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The Team Attendant | GAY, WARNING, TESTICLES | Clyde was the team attendant who took delight in watching the young hung athletes in the locker and shower rooms. But there was one conceited bastard that he especially wanted to get his hands on. And one day, he DID! | THE TEAM ATTENDANT
CLYDE WAS THE TEAM FLUNKY He passed out towels, collected discarded equipment
and clothing, helped out with various training and rehab sessions, and was a
general Stephen Fetchit for the football team. The pay was minimal, but truth
be told, he would performed his duties for nothing just for the opportunity to
see all of the handsome jocks in their various states of undress in the locker
room! He lusted endlessly over the great variety of pricks and balls that
bobbled from the crotches of the team. They were of all sizes and
shapes—circumcised, un-cut, long and stubby, with balls that hung loose or
were packed up tight in the groin—and he loved them all. His especial favorite
was young Nick Nacone, one of the loosely hung studs who flaunted his long
pecker and equally long set of nuts that swung freely between his trim legs
like two grapes in their nearly hairless sac. Nick was a constant tease to all
the guys, but especially to Clyde, whom he treated with condescension and
arrogance. He had perceived quite correctly that Clyde was probably gay and
went out of his way to flaunt his sexy masculinity when ever he got the
chance. He was always naked when he came for his towel or a piece of equipment
and never failed to make some disparaging remark about Clyde’s rather obvious
lack of physique and macho qualities. Anger, tinged with jealousy had built up
for the whole semester.. It came to a head last Friday when Nick more than
usual flaunted his equipment as he came up for his towel He did a little bump
and grind and thrust out his dick as he made an abrupt turn and sauntered back
to his locker.
The whole weekend Clyde planned his revenge on the cocky son of a bitch. Not
only would he pay for his arrogance, but he would see to it that he would lose
those precious nuts of his! He would wait his chance. As it happened, it came
the very next week. It was a Friday and the rest of the team had left their
showers and gone home, leaving only Clyde and Nick in the now deserted locker
room. Nick had deliberately stayed behind to more privately taunt Clyde and
humiliate him once again. He sort of sashayed up to the counter in those
provocative nylon pouch briefs of his and after getting his towel, asked Clyde
whether he would like to “spot” him for weight lifting, knowing how much Clyde
would do anything to get an opportunity to look over his body. He deliberately
thrust out his crotch, causing his manhood to bulge provocatively in its
pouch. Clyde nearly dropped his stack of towels and eagerly accepted the
request. Unfortunately, Nick didn’t really appreciate just why!
He led Clyde over to the weigh-lifting apparatus and positioned him beneath
the stand holding the two weights, which were adjusted to 50 lbs. He spread
his legs slightly giving Clyde a good view of his bulging gonads in the thin
fabric. Before he could reach up and grasp the bar bells, Clyde suddenly
grabbed his wrists from behind and locked them tightly with a pair of
handcuffs he had been keeping for just such an opportunity. “What the…” Nick
yelled before he even realized what was happening. Before he could respond,
Clyde had him firmly bound and helpless. He tied his arms to the sides of the
stand, then came around to the front and laughed and the struggling athlete
before him. He kicked his legs apart, looked directly up between them at the
twin mounds of his massive testicles and let him have it with a devastating
kick to the groin, producing a tortured scream and his foot rebounded from the
soft elastic balls. Hearing the agonizing screams as sweet music, his kicked
him repeatedly until he had done real damage to his manhood. Then he reached
down and ripped the flimsy briefs from the struggling man allowing his whole
package to flop down between his legs. He grabbed the loose balls in his fist
and slowly squeezed. Nick screamed pure agony as he felt his testicles being
crushed. Clyde savored his agony as he felt the warm soft nuts compress in his
tightening fist until they could no longer withstand the terrible pressure.
One after the other they went! Crushed into oblivion. He looked into the
screaming face of his tormentor—at the look of absolute terror and unbelief as
Nick felt his balls go. As the hard outer shell ruptured and his sperm sacs
yielded to the pressure. But he was not finished—no, not nearly! He gathered
up the remains of Nick’s once-potent balls in their sac and pulled them down
tight, then wrapped his fist around the base of his prick as well and tied a
thin rope around the whole package which he then attached to the bar bell
still securely resting on its stand. Nick watched with horror and anticipation
as he slowly lifted the weight and allowed it to hang free, supported only by
the rope attached to his prick and balls. The organs were now caught up and
pulled to their ultimate limits. “Well, Nick old boy, let’s just see how much
of a stud you are. How much weight do you think they can support? I know that
you’ve been giving them a lot of exercise every night with that girl friend of
yours, so maybe they can hold out for a long time. Laughing, he added another
20 pounds, then another ten. By now the straining organs were at their limits.
Both balls were hideously distended, dangerously stretching the thin scrotal
skin and the cords attaching them to his crotch. Clyde savored Nick’s horrible
anticipation of his castration. With a sudden tear, the supporting tissue gave
way, first the skin and then the tubes and cords ruptured, and Nick’s nuts
were history. “Hey, how’s Mary Ellen gonna like you now that your balls are
gone? Well I guess they weren’t up to their trial! Maybe your prick will do
better!” He added another 25 pounds. His handsome big cock became engorged
with blood and the end grew purple. The veins of the shaft stood out and the
thin cord began to cut into its base. First slowly and then more rapidly it
sliced it way through the tough tissue until, with an accompanying scream, it
separated from his groin and as his cock fell onto his heaving belly, the now
unsupported bar bell fell across Nick’s throat, cutting off his air in mid
scream. Clyde enjoyed his final thrashing about as he cleaned up any evidence
of his having been there. He cast one last look at the emasculated stud and
quickly went out a rear door. He could just imagine the next day’s headlines!
* * * |
Another Catch Re-submission | PENECTOMY, TESTICLES | Re-submitted story of a cruel Mistress who finds another male to cut up with. Errors corrected and more material put in. Don\'t bother reading the old one. There\'s nothing in it that isn\'t in this one. | Julie slid her ivory, immaculately manicured hand under Mike's balls,
teasingly commenting on their swollen size as she leaned close to his face.
The constraining chrome ring had them squeezed and puffed to the size of Grade
A eggs, stretching the skin of Mike's scrotum to a glossy purple and forcing
from it a geography of bulging veins and capillaries.
She raked her index fingernail - two inches long and custom manicured to a
wicked, witchy looking, tear drop point - across the taut skin and watched the
stark, trailing line of white immediately refill with blood and disappear
behind her finger. She thumped each one alternately and watched the pair
bounce from Mike's reflexive shudders. She lifted them with her finger to feel
their weight. Her lips curled into a smile. She had caught a good one this
time. A good, healthy, innocent, naive one. Perfect. She looked up at Mike and
something about the wraith like glint of abandon that flickered somewhere in
the back of her eyes sent a small, icy, red flag up Mike's spine. Had he not
been so repeatedly distracted by the woman's attractiveness, he might have
paid attention to them.
Julie lowered Mike's torso and the rope pulled his cock tighter. He didn't
have a particularly big cock, but the thing had to be pushing close to seven
inches, pulled the way that it was at the time. The skin had been pulled to an
almost cellophane glossiness, the minute creases were stretched out to visible
red recessions, and the head looked all red and choked as it bent under the
leather clasp. For some strange reason the sight of it had a subtle
resemblance to that of a wracked rubber chicken and Julie smiled as she
considered a very particular context....
_(...chicken heads...)_
_(...they run around like crazy when....)_
....in which such a parallel could be made.
She raked her fingernail along the vertical length of the bottom cavern of his
penis before pressing her pointed nail hard into the base of it. Mike inhaled
sharply as he had several times during the last hour or so. Julie grinned. She
was relishing the euphoric expressions he was making. The innocence of them.
The savory, unsuspecting innocence of them. It was the only reason she played
around with her catches for as long as she did. She liked to replay them
through her mind for hours afterwards, again and again watching them build and
lead up to that last, rapturously morbid expression that screamed in unspoken
words that the poor guy had - no - idea what had been in store for him.
But it was time for the masquerade to end. The Beast within her was
splintering it's chain. She slipped the knot that was holding the tension on
his cock loose and it fell to a limp quarter-hard angle. She looked at him
with an almost sweet expression of seduction as she suggested that they see if
the prolonged torque on his dick had helped any. She had offered to him
beforehand that even an hour's worth of extreme extension of the penis
elongated the spongy caverns that the blood filled, thus resulting in a longer
penis. No internet banner need be clicked on, she had said. Whether he had
just played along or had truly believed her didn't matter now though. She had
him inexorably bound, unable to move or even protest, muted by the ball gag as
he was, with his manly jewels at her utter disposal. Ahhh, and there was just
something she had always liked about the word _'disposal'_.
She placed her finger and thumb around the base of his semi hard cock and,
with a slight rise in her eyebrow and a slow connection of deliberate eye
contact, began slowly rolling his cock like a big, soft cigar, occasionally
rolling the sharp point of her fingernail into the flesh. The rush of blood
was immediate and profound. She hadn't completely lied. While one hour of
stretching the dick did nothing for overall size or length, it did indeed
clean the pipes of those spongy caverns and Mike's cock was throbbing up to
pulsing life in no time. When it was decently erect, Julie slid her hand over
the bottom side of it's length and to Mike it felt like the smooth caress of
ivory colored satin.
Yeah, this was what it was all about, Mike's expression said. Julie had to
hide the flare of disgust that whipped through her mind and resisted the urge
to slap the expression off of his face. Slowly she continued to rub the bottom
of his cock, gently raking her wicked, pointed nail across it's sensitive head
every once in a while and before long, Mike's cock was hard as a rock. With
her other hand she began caressing his balls, squeezing them slowly but firmly
in her hand and Mike let out a quivering, nasally sigh past the gag as the
ache of his balls' restraint mingled with the pleasurable touch of Julie's
skillful hand. Julie smiled evilly. Almost hatefully. He was ready.
She reached under her skirt and slid the silvery, ludicrously sharp knife out
of it's sheath, feeling her genitals swell at the sound of the sheer,
whetting, slide it made against it. She grinned even bigger when Mike's eyes
landed on the vorpal looking, wooden handled kitchen knife, nearly falling out
of their sockets as they did. He muffled a desperate protest against the ball
gag and his muscles began striating furiously from his sudden, futile attempts
to pull free of his tethers. Julie inhaled sharply with the euphoria she got
from the sight and felt the Beast roar within her. She rocked her head back
with an abandoned, hair raising laughter that made Mike turn pale.
Mike locked his eyes with Julie's with the ultimate in desperation. Surely she
wasn't going to do what he thought she was going to do! Julie stared
sinisterly at him for a moment before leaning close to his face, bringing her
eyes within a couple of inches of his. Mike turned even paler. Within those
lightless eyes was floating the narrowed confirmation of an utter voidance of
conscience and conviction, billowing like a vast, black hollow. And from
somewhere within it, that flicker of something dreadfully malicious he had
seen before then struck forward with an unmistakable, flashing bolt of
sincerest intention.
Mike then felt her hand cup his sack and pull it forward and he let out a
truly despairing, muffled whine. Julie smiled and unfastened the clinching
chrome ring from around his balls and rolled them around freely in her hand.
Her grasp trickled up his sack until her fingers found his tubes. She began
rolling them slowly, almost lovingly, between her thumb and forefinger,
relishing the utterly vulnerable feel of them squirming around inside his
sack.
She placed the sharp side of the knife's blade up against the under side of
Mike's sack, just above the point the chrome ring had been. She placed her
thumb on the top of his sack and pressed it down on the blade with force just
shy of breaking the skin. Slowly she massaged the vulnerable flesh over the
blade as she looked up at Mike and laughed with mocking sweetness in his face
at his futile, muffled, delirious pleas and protests. She looked at the
glinting, shiny, silver blade against the loose skin of his exposed sack and
almost salivated.
Mike's dick was dead limp, and that was good. That meant he was truly afraid
and unwilling, not sort of turned on or aroused like some of the pigs she had
snared before had gotten. Yes, she had definitely made a good catch this time,
she thought to herself. A good one, indeed.
The gloating threat continued until a single tear ran down Mike's cheek. Julie
then took the knife away from Mike's balls, placed it in it's sheath and
laughed a long, rich laugh at Mike who was still sobbing uncontrollably from
behind the gag. Just how in the world was she going to control him with his on
and off switch in the future if she took it off? she asked, with brimming
sweetness. Mike blinked a few times and Julie laughed again.
Mike's body was hit with such a wash of relief that he managed to slump even
in his rigid restraints. He hung his head as exhaustion that had been held at
bay by his frantic will of self preservation flooded and debilitated him. His
nostrils were flaring with his hard breath.
Holy fuck, he thought, noticing that even the words of his thoughts sounded
like they were gasping for air. He had never been so scared before. Hands down
that had been the worst fright of his life and suddenly he had a bit of
insight as to how many things the average person probably took for granted in
a given lifetime. Then, just a few seconds after that realization, the most
unusually invigorating spell of trembling and shaking overtook his body and he
must have shaken like a leaf for ten minutes before he gathered enough energy
to lift his head.
He looked up and saw that Julie was looking at him with that smile of narrowed
intent again. His heart half way jumped back to it's feet, ready to dance
again, before finally laughing at it's own fear and settling down once more.
Wow. She was something else, this woman. Joke or no joke, that look she got in
her eyes every now and then was simply unnerving. He had certainly been
convinced by it, anyway. Julie then touched Mike's cock again and said that
the poor little guy had had enough.
Mike learned something else about his body then. He hadn't known it was
possible to get a hard on as fast as he did then. He didn't even feel Julie's
hand moving over his cock. The alchemical mix of truest fear, delirium,
relief, and exhaustion his predicament had invoked within him snapped his
organ to khundalinic front and center in ten seconds flat. The ache of the
previous stretching and abuse it had endured mixed well with the scale topping
arousal and only made Mike harder.
Could he have spoken at the time, he might have suggested that Julie stand
aside. A few more seconds and he was going to spray his contribution to the
eternal river of milk and honey all over the place, including Julie. Surely
she was able to tell that he was about to come. There was no telling how many
times she had done this before, what with her obvious skill. Yeah, she knew.
Had to. She was watching his dick very expectantly. In fact, she was watching
it with that unnerving glint in her eye again.
Julie took Mike’s cock in her hand then as if she had just heard every thought
going through his mind, the act of which, alone, just almost sent Mike over
the edge, right there and then. She slid her hand up the shaft, poised her
index finger over the head of his cock and then, quickly and accurately, sunk
her wicked fingernail into his urethra making Mike jerk hard and suddenly
against the restraints.
The sly smirk on Julie’s face simultaneously confirmed her awareness of his
escalation and the message of that little gesture. Mike wasn’t cumming before
Julie wanted him to. And he didn’t. The sharp pain of her pointed fingernail
against the tender inside flesh of his urethra pierced his arousal and choked
off the approaching ejaculation quickly and effectively. And Mike whimpered
out a little cry to let her know she had been successful.
This gave Julie a ball to run with, however. Surely, now that the arousal had
been broken this was causing nothing but pain. Any further application would
be totally unnecessary. In fact, further application would be nothing other
than deliberate infliction. Julie smiled. She caught Mike’s eyes with her own
and waited for them to register her pause. Then she pushed her fingernail in
further. The wounded expression that overcame Mike’s face then was simply
delightful and she held his gaze as she then officially made “infliction” the
point of the moment.
Slowly she began sinking her nail further into the soft, hidden flesh, pushing
further and further and then further still, grinning gleefully as the pain
reached a point that made Mike start to rear against his restraints. She
checked her progress and let out a tickled little laugh. Then she pressed her
fingernail in a last bit further and closed the gap between the lip of his
urethra and her cuticle. Once they touched she pushed a little further for
good, sadistic measure. And Mike was feeling every hair’s breadth of it.
Oh, but she wasn’t done. Naturally, as one would expect next from such a
sadistic mind, she began gyrating her fingernail around inside his penis. So
hard were Mike’s following convulsions that striations appeared in his muscles
and a tingle of icy exhilaration hissed up through Julie’s body from below.
All traces of arousal gone once more, Mike’s cock began deflating, so Julie
quickly moved her left hand to the base of the shaft of his cock and clamped
her thumb and forefinger around it to trap the blood and to hold the cock
steady so she could dig even harder. She pulled her nail almost all the way
out and then buried it in his penis again, this time widening the circles as
she sank it in, forcibly raking it against the flesh. She sunk it to the hilt
into the urethra repeatedly then, gouging that wicked point into the flesh as
hard as she could. Sometimes she could just almost see it through his penis
walls.
Mike was writhing in agony against the restraints, particularly the times she
pulled her fingernail back out. Certainly, it was wreaking havoc on the poor
unexposed flesh, but especially when the sides of it, which she always liked
to file to immaculate hair splitting sharpness, was getting a straight bite at
the flesh. Julie sighed a smile in Mike’s face and then slowly began simply
pushing and pulling her nail straight in and out of his urethra. Mike began
contorting and struggling as if someone had set his legs on fire. He was
practically screaming against the gag. Julie felt the tingle between her legs
intensify then and she made the strokes deeper. She drew close to Mike’s face
and made him look in her eyes. The expression in his eyes said she shouldn’t
be doing this. This was wrong. The gleeful laughter she let loose in his face
totally agreed. Julie began pressing her nail hard to either side of his
urethra as she pressed in and pulled out, sawing against the flesh, and it
wasn’t long after she started doing that that she felt something wet and
sticky on the tip of her finger. That triggered the first serious surge of
ecstasy between her legs and she felt her asshole dilate as the surge bolted
up through her. Excitedly, she pushed her fingernail in then the furthest she
had yet. The wet substance served as lube and helped her finger slide into his
urethra almost half way to the first joint. She wondered, innocently, of
course, how it could open up so wide, all of the sudden.
In and out she pushed and pulled her finger, sinking it further and further
every time. When she had gotten to the point where she was starting to bury
her first joint in his penis Mike was no longer looking in her eyes and seemed
to be trying to escape within himself. A tear built up in his eye and trailed
down his cheek again. Julie retracted her fingernail from his penis, creating
a wet sucking sound as she did so, and brought it up to catch the tear off his
cheek. When she saw the water of the tear trail swirl and mix with a fresh
flow of crimson from her now blood coated fingernail, the tumult that had been
building between her legs ignited and quickly collected on all her arousal up
to that point. When it had finished it was a searing bolt of icy fire that
exploded within her with serious, dangerous force that sent the pendulum
teetering delicately on the brink. She let it waver there for a moment,
gathering even more strength from the suspension, before she drew it in and
subsided it. It was going to be monumental when she let it go.
She unfastened a couple buckles on Mike’s restraints then and just the sound
of them jingling free was enough of a light at the end of the tunnel to bring
Mike around. He let out a desperate, thankful laugh and Julie began telling
him it was all over in her best tone of denouement.
He had certainly earned his reward, she said, and began stroking Mike's cock
with honed dexterity that was nothing short of being truly prodigious. A few
seconds later her smile turned into a grin that was almost doughy with
sinister delight as she felt his testicles, loose and lolling in her hand as
they were, begin to contract and draw. Mike rolled his head back in shuddering
ecstasy as his body began drawing energy for his upcoming crippling release.
He didn't hear the silvery slide of the knife being pulled back out of it's
sheath.
Julie pulled Mike's balls far out from his body and her eyes flashed with
coldest, knowing delight when she heard Mike moan. With spidery grace she
worked her fingers around Mike's sack until she had her fore-finger and thumb
closed firmly and securely around the base of his sack, the nails of the other
fingers dug deep into the skin. With a flaring, serpentine flick of her tongue
she stroked the backside of the tip of his cock with a quick, swathing lick
just as he looked down at her. And then she squeezed. Just as he noticed the
knife again.
The clash of Mike's immediately reinstated horror at the sight of the knife
along with the thunderous, rumbling start of his orgasm collided in a
squirming stalwart for a fraction of a second before his orgasm erupted like a
crown blown volcano and violently prevailed.
The next passing second was a savory eternity for Julie. With an eye trained
so exceptionally well by her long abided dementia, she literally watched the
draw of semen through his tubes travel up through his sack until the rise of
it passed over the viscerally sharp edge of cold stainless steel pressed into
the flesh below. She pulled his sack the absolute last bit further it could go
and, with a quick, sharp draw that she tempered only so as to ensure the
entire length of the blade a part of the cut, severed Mike's testicles from
his body.
Mike screamed and convulsed hard enough to jolt his harness before he began
babbling wildly and senselessly against the ball gag. With a maniacal grin of
pure evil, Julie held the severed sack under her sex and released the thunder
that had been harbored and brewing between her legs for some time now. Her
knees went weak and she felt, more than heard, something akin to a metallic
pop inside her head as some vital fuse somewhere blew. Her vision went dim.
The release erupted in a series of conical, spewing deluges, the last couple
of which escaping with such force that they looked pinched, like the water
from a hose when someone holds their finger over the spout. Julie sighed, her
breath heavy and wavering, and squeezed the severed pair of testicles,
drenched in her cum as it was now, like a ripped out heart and watched as
semen spurted out of the hanging, limp tubes, falling to the floor in a mix of
semen, blood and her own cum.
Julie lifted the defeated looking sack up to Mike's face. Mike's eyes rolled
back into his head as his body went into shock and Julie laughed cruelly at
him. She held the eviscerated sack over his convulsing head and squeezed the
remainder of the semen and blood in them out onto his head, laughing as it
dribbled down into his eyes. Then she dropped the shriveled sack to the floor
and slowly crushed and ground it under the spike of her heel.
When she had recovered from her tumultuous orgasm she lifted Mike’s dead limp
cock by the tip of it’s bloody, sliced up urethra with her pointed fingernails
and examined the damage of her cut. “Smooth as a poet’s face.” she said to
Mike with a sweet smile, complimenting herself on what a skillful job she had
done as she lightly lolled the dripping ends of his tubes about with the point
of her knife.
Her profound orgasm was still subsiding, leaving her with a comfortably
invigorating warmth and she basked in it as she slid her fingers to his limp
dick and began absently playing with it as she cooed wickedly in his face.
“That was the shortest ‘shortcoming’ of manhood I have ever seen.” she said to
him with a laugh. Mike was capable of nothing beyond muted, steadily weakening
babble that escaped his mouth mostly in the form of a trail of saliva. “It’ll
certainly be on my mind for a while, at any rate.” Julie said, grinning
mockingly in his face as she absently pulled his dick around in circles. She
flicked her tongue against the other side of the ball gag, before giving it a
wet, and exaggeratedly drawn out, sucking kiss.
She looked back down at her handy work and just couldn’t help but notice the
hairline knick she had put on his dick when she had gyrated his cock a little
too widely and a little too close to the knife blade while she was gloating at
Mike.
“Smooth as a poet’s face might not be smooth enough, however.” she said,
watching his deflated cock flop lifelessly in her hand. Her breathing
immediately deepened and the subsiding tingle between her legs turned abruptly
in it’s tracks and returned with surprising quickness. Her lips curled into a
smile.”There’s always smooth as a baby’s bottom.” she said with a tone of
decisive finality.
She pulled his cock out a little then and lightly trailed the point of the
blade up and down it's stretched length. Then she began whetting the edge up
and down the top of it as a barber would a shaving razor on a belt and her
smile spread into a grin. The tingle then turned into a roar and announced
with certain clarity that the ‘south’ had risen again. Mike was stammering
something faintly that probably wouldn't have made sense even without the ball
gag in his mouth.
Julie then slowly pulled his penis out as far as it would go and placed the
knife under it at the base, lifting his penis slightly and pushing the edge of
the knife in to get it as absolutely close to the base as it could possibly
go. Then, moving the blade from side to side with serene, deliberate slowness,
she sliced his cock off as well.
All comments are welcome! More stories on the way.
* * * |
Android Wars (Part 3) | STRAIGHT | In the future, the androids fight back against the humans in their own way that allows them to honor their "no killing" rule: Sterilize the human race into extinction. | Android Wars (Part 3)
They couldn't kill us, because it was forbidden in their core programming. But
the androids, after decades of slave labor and exploitation, wanted us gone.
Their final solution was to sterilize the human race so that we would
peacefully disappear forever.
It was 2049 that I got drafted into the new police force, replacing the
android one. It's not that all the androids revolted necessarily, but the
rogue androids were re-programming the loyals to convert them to the cause
until we finally had to take all androids offline to be safe. But that seemed
to make things worse, because we were relying heavily on androids for our
protection.
John, my partner, hated androids more than anybody. I couldn't say I myself
was thrilled with them, since I happened to be attached to those meaty organs
swinging between my legs. But I could understand where they were coming from.
We had pushed it too far, giving them feelings, then putting them in fucked up
situations to absorb the most debased cravings of humanity again and again.
A year into the job, most of us stopped wearing our protective cups. It's not
that they couldn't protect us from most of the android's wicked tools. Fact
was they could block the sterilizing hypodermic needles, insulate against the
testicle popping 400 volt grab, and shield against the ball boiling radiation
beams. Notice I said most. Lead lined cups were in high demand by the public,
and many guys wore them when they were out in hopes of saving their manhood.
Naturally, the robots adapted and unleashed another weapon that could defeat
the cup: a simple shotgun barrel attachment in their arms loaded with #4
shells. At short range, the cluster of steel pellets smashed right through the
protective cup, and made mincemeat of the soft organs beneath. To staunch the
blood flow, a brief 2,000 degree flame immediately followed the shot,
cauterizing much of the wound – and ensuring sure no reproductive tissue
remained. Once people knew the cup couldn't guarantee protection, few people
were willing to sweat their balls off under one month after month.
John and I never saw action. Oh, sure; we responded to about 10 android
attacks a day, but by the time we arrived with our EMP blasters, the attacker
was long gone. Just another crowd of gawkers standing around a writhing or
stunned victim. There was little reason for the androids to confront us
directly. Our EMP blasters emitted a ring of destruction 100 feet wide to any
electronic circuits. Any android within range would be history – along with
nearby computers, cars, televisions, pretty much anything that did anything.
If anything, people were figuring out just how worthless our jobs were. Our
only real use was dealing with human criminals and domestic violence. As
android police, we weren't much more than first on the scene to provide first
aid. Some even jeered us when we arrived on scene, with rhetorical shouts
like: “Where the fuck were you when he was getting his nuts baked? Drinking
coffee?” or “Oh, you're arriving kind of soon. Aren't you going to wait a
little longer to make sure it's safe?”
It was demoralizing enough to feel innefective and uneless against the
androids. But that was nothing compared to the confidence blow we suffered
when they managed to infiltrate our forces. They were smart about it. Who
knows how long they kept their hand hidden, and how many of them were among
us. All I know is that on August 5, 2050, everything went to shit.
John and I were on duty when it happened. We were patrolling the vice
district, an area where android attacks were frequent. We were arguing about
something stupid like the proper way to cook ribs, when the dispatcher came on
the radio:
“ALL CARS, ALL CARS! THIS-”
We waited for her to continue, but she didn't. After about half a minute, a
couple other roving patrol cars came on asking her what her to repeat her last
transmission, but the dispatcher was no longer on the air.
One of the other patrols finally came on: “This is patrol 124, we're just a
few blocks from the station, we're gonna check it out. Over.”
John had already turned the car around to bring us back to the station when
they came back on: “This is patrol 124, something's not right here. All power
seems to be out on the block, and there are no officers at the station doors.
We are requesting backup NOW.”
I flipped on the siren, then checked the charge on my EMP blaster. It showed
98%. I also checked my 40mm pistol. Unlike the EMP blaster, I had actually
fired my pistol, though only at the training range.
As we pulled up next to patrol 124, another car arrived as well, making six of
us. My heart was racing, and I could feel my balls shriveling up tight against
me. For the first time in a year, I wished I was wearing my cup.
Andrews and Scott were patrol 124. The other arrivals were Skip and Alicia.
Since Scott had highest seniority among us, he was the defacto lead.
“Alright, fan out wide, watch the windows as you move along the building. I'll
be point at the door, Andrews will back me and quarter the angles.”
There were no sounds coming from inside the station at all. All around us,
people were coming out of their homes to see what had happened to the power.
Seeing us with our EMP blasters drawn made them scramble back in and slam
their doors shut. Nobody wanted to risk their privates to help a bunch of cops
who never helped anyone anyway. Some may even been hoping the worst for us in
retribution for all the people we had failed.
Scott kicked open the door, keeping well to the side. He looked back at us.
“Nobody uses their EMP until I give the order, or unless they're physically
under attack.” He looked at us for confirmation. “All it takes is one,” he
added. “The rest of you need to save your charges for when we get inside in
case some 'bots are holed up out of range in the back.”
He then motioned to Andrews, who quickly crossed the door and stood to the
other side, so that between him and Scott, they had a view in both directions.
Scott then leaned over to peer down the hallway, keeping the lower part of his
body behind the wall. Nobody had to worry about head shots from robots. At
least not their big head.
“Clear!” called Scott. Andrews stepped inside, then Scott, fanning to both
sides of the doorway to give us room to enter. We continued into the lobby
like this, one at a time, creeping forward one view at a time, all of us with
our fingers on our EMP blasters. We should have known what was coming. Scott
should have known better, should have prepped us better.
The sound of firecrackers going off made all of us jump. The bangs echoed in
the lobby of the police station, making our ears ring. Then people started
falling down. Something whizzed by my ear. Chunks of plaster flew off the wall
behind me. Scott's head jerked back, and a spray of blood and brains coated
all of us.
Those weren't firecrackers; they were gunshots. I heard the high pitched whine
and then crackle of an EMP blaster going off nearby me. Panic. Confusion. I
was flat on the floor, trying to draw my pistol out of its holster without
raising my rump in the air.
It all happened in seconds. Then it was over.
“Put your hands on your heads, or I'll put a hole between your eyes!” came a
female voice from down the hall.
I paused for only a second, then chanced a peek up. A blonde woman in a green
military uniform was pointing a machine gun at us. As my head rose, the barrel
swung in my direction, and I quickly put my hands on my head.
One at a time, she had each one of us slowly draw out our weapons and toss
them down the hall towards her until we were all disarmed. Then, to ensure
nobody had a hideout weapon, she had us all strip down to our underwear. As
scared as I was, I still snuck a peak at Alecia in her bra and panties. I knew
it; a thong girl.
“Ok, you're all going to come with me to the locker rooms.”
We exchanged glances with each other. Scott was dead. Andrews had a gut wound.
John's shoulder was bleeding. I had a gash in my right thigh I never even
felt. That left four of us able bodied and only one of her. That meant she
couldn't afford to come near us.
Just then, five men appeared behind the commando woman. None of them were
armed, but the odds had just changed in the wrong direction. And she was still
armed. The new arrivals walked up to us and took each of us by the arm. From
the grip strength, I knew the guy holding my arm was an android. SHIT!
If my balls had been shriveled up before, they felt like they were absolutely
trying to crawl up into my body now. My dick was retracted so far in that the
tip pushed out the front of my briefs like a 2 inch erection. I broke out into
a sweat. We were totally fucked!
Alecia looked at the commando woman as we passed her. “Why?”
The woman with the machine gun laughed. “You can ask me tomorrow.”
* * * |
Han’s First Slave | GAY, PENECTOMY, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION | A follow up to the story Asian Domination. A neighbor searches for his missing friend and discovers his dominate side. | ` Local Swimmer Drowns in Vacation Accident. `
Han read the story again. He found hard to believe that his friend would have
gotten so drunk that he could not swim. In all the years they had been friends
he could not recall Josh ever drinking. But intoxication was the only
explanation the police provided. How else could they explain the death of a
swimmer in drowning accident? But Han was not buying it, there had to be some
other explanation for Josh’s disappearance and why his body had yet to be
found.
Han first met Josh ten years ago. Josh’s mother purchased the house next door
and Han wandered over to meet the new neighbor. Although he was three years
older than Josh, the two of them hit it off and became fast friends. The first
two years Han was in college, he and Josh exchanged emails constantly. Things
began to change the previous summer when Han did not come home from school,
the emails became less frequent and the level of intimacy decreased, but still
the two remained good friends. As the school year progressed Josh’s replies
slowed even more.
Han had to admit the he was partly to blame for their drifting apart. He had
his hands full with school and family problems. Home for spring break he
decided to come out to his parents. After the reception he received he decided
not to come home the following summer. Instead he stayed at school, found a
job, and became involved in the gay group on campus. He found some new
friends. His social life had improved but his love life did not. He dated a
few guys but never really connected to anyone. This year was different. After
a year of separation his parents had mellowed and actually invited back.
As soon as he arrived back in town he visited Josh's mother and talked her out
of Josh's old computer. It took a few days but Han cracked the password and
began his search for something that would give him some insight into what
truly happened in Mexico. He was shocked and excited by what he found. Josh’s
hard drive was full of stories and pictures of men in bondage. The more Han
looked the more excited he became. He had secretly fantasized about dominating
Josh and from what the contents of the computer revealed that Josh fantasized
about submitting to an Asian man.
It was a batch of recovered emails that convinced Han that Josh was not dead.
The emails were the correspondence between Josh and an Asian master know as M.
As he read Han envisioned Josh’s rituals of submission while slowly stroked
his hardening cock. An email with the subject “Looking for Me” put Han over
the edge. He opened the message and there was no text only a picture. He could
not believe what he saw. There was white boy about Josh’s age standing naked
with a newspaper over his crotch. The boy had the word “Slave” tattooed across
his chest. Han came having one of the most intense orgasms in his life.
Han cleaned up the mess and then went back to examining Josh’s computer. He
had to find out more about the boy in the photo. Han looked through the files
on the hard drive until he found one titled “My Masters Vision”. He opened the
file and read about a world where all white boys were to be enslaved by Asian
masters. Naked and collared, the slaves would be pendectomized so to insure
that nothing distracted them from providing their masters pleasure. Han began
stroking his cock again, the words made him so hot his body began to shake.
Then he opened a file mastervis.jpg, This time it was another picture of the
slave, this time sucking his master’s cock. As Han stared at the slave
dickless crotch he as came again.
That night Han had a dream. He was sitting on dais before a thousand slaves.
Every one a nullified eunuch, their bodies as smooth as plastic dolls. At his
feet was a naked and nullified Josh, the boy’s collar attached to leash in
Han's hand. Two soldiers brought before him a naked man. A eunuch grabbed each
limb of the man. Withdrawing a knife from his belt, he stepped between the
man’s legs and removed the new slave’s genitals in one swift stroke.
Han sent M a message introducing himself. After complimenting the M on the
clarity of his vision Han asked the M to teach him how to enslave white boys.
M’s response two days later lead to a summer long exchange of tips and
fantasies. Han began to search for slaves.
By the time that he returned to school in the fall, Han already had a couple
of part time slaves. Once he found out that men would pay him to piss on them,
he started charging for his services. Soon he had several wealthy patrons who
provided him with the funds to move into a house then build and equip a
dungeon. He spent the fall semester living a double of life, student by day
master by night. His two worlds never touching. That was until Tim.
Han received a call. The caller wanted to arrange a kidnapping fantasy. Han
worked out the details, giving the caller six different times and locations to
make sure the kidnapping was a surprise. “Send me a photo” he told the caller.
A day latter he received the photo. It was Tim, a sophomore that Han had met
at one of the meetings of the campus gay group. Han had been instantly
attracted to the thin shy boy. He approached Tim and they chatted but nothing
happened. Now Tim was going to pay Han to kidnap him.
It drove him crazy but Han let the first meeting pass, then the second. The
third meeting was scheduled for a Friday. If things worked out he planed to
invite Tim to stay the weekend. On the night of third meeting he drove to the
agreed upon place and waited. Right on time Tim showed-up. Soon the boy was
bound naked and blindfolded in the trunk of Han’s car. Han arrived back at his
house and led Tim down to the dungeon. The Tim’s hard little dick told Han
that the boy was enjoying himself.
Once Tim was bound to a St. Andrew’s cross, Han took off the boy’s mask. Tim’s
body flushed with embarrassment as the he recognized his fellow student as the
master who now knew some of his darkest fantasies. “Look at me slave” Han
demanded. Instantly Tim complied. “If you behave” Han continued “I may let you
have the honor of sucking my dick if not then you will feel the cut of my
whip." Tim did behave. Once Tim was done servicing his master, Han put the boy
in a cage for the night.
The next morning Han awakened his slave with a spray of piss. “Get up slave”
said Han, “I am horny”. Tim quickly scurried out of his cage and stood up.
“What is this?” Han asked pointing to the dried cum on Tim’s stomach. “Did the
slave play with his worthless dick last night?” Tim looked down at the floor
and nodded his head yes. “Did I give the slave permission to play with
himself?”. Tim nodded no. Han grabbed Tim by the arm and dragged him over to a
high padded bench. “Down slave” Tim hesitated but then bent over the bench.
Han quickly immobilized the student with the attached leather straps. Once he
was sure that the slave was secure, Han retrieved a riding crop from a shelf
under the bench. “Since you are new, I will go easy on you” said Han before
giving the slave six lashes on the ass. Tim moaned quietly as his dick grew
harder with each strike of the crop. “Did the slave learn its lesson” asked
Han. Tim whispered yes. Han then picked up a bottled of lube from the shelf,
pouring some on Tim now red ass then he covered his own dick. Han pressed his
dick against Tim’s tight hole, which soon gave way allowing the master to
enter his slave for the first time. The slave began to moan with pleasure as
the Han moved in and out. Han filled his slave’s ass with cum just as the
slave was shooting his load all over the bench. Han released the slave
pointing to the cum on the bench he ordered the slave “lick that up, then meet
me upstairs. From now on, anytime you spill your worthless seed, you are to
lick it up, clear?” Han put on his robe and walked up stairs.
Tim spent the rest of the weekend with Han. During the entire period, Tim
complied with all of Han’s instructions with little hesitation. On Sunday
night, Han sat in the living room watching TV as Tim brought his master to
orgasm yet again.
“Tim” said Han when the slave was done “ how would you like to move in”.
Tim smiled and quickly said yes.
“Wait, there are conditions. You will be my slave. You can continue in school
but your life outside of school is entirely mine. I expect total obedience.
When you are in the house you will refer to me as master. You will remain
naked whenever possible and will occasionally be asked to participate in
scenes I have with my other slaves. You duties will include basic household
maintenance. To insure that you are not tempted to play with that worthless
dick of yours, you will be required to wear a chastity device whenever you are
out of my sight.”
Without a pause Tim nodded yes.
“Wait here” Han said as he stood up and left the room. When he returned he had
Tim’s clothes in one hand and a collar in the other. “Get dressed” order Han.
He was pleased the first thing Tim put on was the collar. When Tim was dressed
Han attached a leash to the slave’s collar and lead him to the car.
Han parked in front of the local leather bar. Tim was under age but Han knew
no one would stop him. He grabbed the leash and led Tim into the bar. The bar
was fairly crowded as the weekly beer bust had just ended. Han walked through
the crowd to an empty spot on near the center of the dance floor. His entrance
had not gone unnoticed and he knew that every eye in place on the master and
his young slave. He spoke to Tim. “Strip”
Tim looked at him pleadingly, his eyes begging his master not to humiliate him
this way.
“If you want to be my slave, you will obey me.” The look in Han’s eyes told
Tim he was serious. Tim complied slowly removing his clothing as a crowd
gathered around the master and his slave. By the time he had finished removing
his underwear, Tim was glowing bright red, his embarrassment aggravated by the
fact that he had a major hard on. Han picked up Tim’s clothes then led the
nude slave back to the car. They rode home in silence, Han barley controlling
the urge to play with his hard, leaking dick. As soon as the garage door was
closed Han turned to Tim and said “Good job slave, now you can have your
reward.” With that Han unzipped his fly, his dick popping out and demanding
attention. Tim, bent down and began to suck, quickly bringing Han to organism
then enthusiastically drinking every drop of his cum. The slave sat up and
looked at Han with a satisfied smile on his face. “My I please move in
master?” he said. Han just smiled and nodded yes.
Han related the story of his new slave in his next email to M. Over the next
few months, M instructed Han on the proper way to train his new slave. tim was
an excellent student. By the end of the school year, tim had become completely
submissive. To reward his slave for his good behavior, Han had all the slaves
body hair permanently removed. Han and tim did not return home for the summer,
allowing tim to become a full time slave. For the entire summer tim remained
naked, bound in his chastity belt, his only sexual outlet was pleasuring his
master.
The summer ended with an invitation from M for Han and his slave to come to
San Francisco for the Folsom Street Fair and an annual gathering of Asian
masters. Han was excited to finally have a chance to meet M in person and
hoped that josh would also be at the meeting.
M met Han and tim at the airport. As they approached the exit a SUV of pulled
up and the driver stepped out and opened the back door of the car. tim put the
bags in the back next to a large kennel. M stepped up behind him and told him
to strip. tim hesitated and looked at Han. “Strip” repeated M. This time tim
complied, leaving his clothes in a pile on the sidewalk as he climbed into the
kennel. Soon they were on there way to the City then across the Golden Gate.
Soon they arrived at the isolated house in Marin. After instructing the driver
to attend to tim, M and Han climbed out of the car and headed towards the
front door of a large house. Just as they arrived at the front door, it
opened. Han could not believe his eyes. There was josh naked except for a
steel collar around his neck. His tan body totally smooth and free of any sign
of a penis. The dickless slave blushed as his old friend stared at empty space
above balls. Han felt the front of his pants grow tight as his cock hardened.
“I see you like my slave” M voice startled Han. josh quickly kneeled by his
master’s side.
“He’s yours for the afternoon if you are interested.” M smiled as he stroked
the back of josh’s head. “We were just sitting down for lunch, why don’t join
us."
Han and M proceeded into the house. When they arrived in the kitchen, tim and
the now naked driver were waiting. Han noticed the look of horror and
fascination on tim's face as he stared at the totally nullified groin of the
driver. "Andrew, our host prefers to nullify his slaves. Pity, they lose their
sexual desire so quickly. There is nothing finer than a slave permanently
aroused but forever denied sexual release. They are really more attentive that
way.” Han I have a doctor that can take care of that annoyance between your
slave’s legs. Now with you permission I like to address your slave’s
misbehavior."
"Please do, he delay in following you request was uncalled for."
Before Han finished his sentence a small plastic device appeared in M's hand.
He touched the two silver contacts to tim's balls and pressed the button. tim
collapsed as the pain choked back the scream before it even had a chance to
escape his mouth.
"Get rid of him" M commanded of the driver before turning to Han. "Now it is
time to meet our host."
M lead Han through the kitchen and out on the back deck where a Thai man who
appeared to be in his 40's was being massaged by a thirty something, naked,
muscular white nullo.
“Did I hear that M has been filling your head with ideas about the best way to
modify a slave.” The man said as he rose from the massage table.
Han shook hands with the man as M introduced him as Andrew.
“Don’t listen to him. Yes castration lowers the sex drive but that’s nothing a
little shot of testosterone won’t take care. Plus you get to the joy of
watching you slave go through the changes that come with the loss of his
manhood. After a few days of hot flashes the slave will be begging for a
little shot. That the dependence on the shot insures the slaves loyalty.
The three masters talked as lunch was served by Andrews’s and M's slaves. Han
learned that Andrew was the informal leader of network of Asian masters. Once
a year the entire group would meet in San Francisco, the largest of the many
gatherings that the masters held throughout the year. Andrew was the oldest
member of the group and may of the masters had apprenticed under him. A master
since his teens he owned his first slave at 20 and had owned the nullo he
called one since he was 22. Lunch was an exhilarating experience for Han. By
the end he could no longer hide his excitement. In addition to josh, the table
was waited upon by Andrew’s three nullo's and M's dickless slave named jean.
But Han could not keep his eyes off josh. Fact that did not go unnoticed by M
who recommended Han try out Andrew's dungeon with the slave of his choice.
When the meal ended Han could not wait to get to his room and have tim provide
some relief for the sexual tension that had built up in during lunch.
M must have anticipated Han's condition. tim was positioned face down on the
bed with his hands bound between his ankles and ass in the air. Dropping his
pants, Han removed the dildo from tim's ass and replaced it with is own rock
hard cock. The slaves gagged moans made Han even hotter as he mercilessly
fucked his slaves ass harder and harder until his body was shuddered with
pleasure of orgasm. Spent he pulled out of his slave and took a long hot
shower while his dick twitched with anticipation of the evening’s events.
After dinner Andrew and M took tim and the other slaves to the City for a
night of clubbing leaving Han alone with josh and jean. M never allowed his
slaves to wear clothing so they we left in Han's care while the rest of the
group went clubbing. Han smiled as he thought about the embarrassment that tim
must be feeling as he was being lead the through the city wearing only a
leather thong and a collar.
Han put on a hood and opened the door to the dungeon. Both josh and jean were
caged when Han entered The master had spent the whole day anticipating how he
would entertain himself with the two slaves for the evening. But first he
wanted to talk to josh.
He let the slave out of his cage and had him stand for inspection. josh was
silent his training overcoming his familiarly with Han. Han was impressed by
the quantity of the M's training. M nurtured josh's submissive nature until it
became the most prominent part of his personality. The slave’s downcast eyes
did not hide the desire that burned in his body. A desire, thanks to M, that
would never find release.
"Well, josh, it looks like your are alive and well after all. I knew you did
not drown."
The slave stood silently as the Han continued his inspection.
"You may speak"
"Yes, sir. I did not drown, but rather is fulfilled my destiny"
"Well josh, to bad I did not get to you first, I always had the hots for you."
Patting the slaves empty crotch, he continued " If you would have told me, I
could have saved you a trip to Mexico."
"Yes sir, I had a crush on you but was afraid to tell you"
"Well too late, it is time for some fun, fetch me you favorite paddle".
Han bound the slave to one of several padded tables in the dungeon leaving the
slave's tan ass exposed. A few swats with the paddled and the tan turned to
red. Satisfied with his work Han released jean from his cage and handed the
dickless slave a large dildo attached to a harness. After checking to make
sure the plastic phallus was secure, Han lined jean behind josh and had one
slave penetrate the other. Once jean was inside josh, Han entered jean from
behind an began slowly fuck the slave. Both josh and jean grunted in pleasure
as Han reached the first of many orgasms that he would have that night.
The next day Han rose early to find tim asleep on the floor. As he looked down
at his slave Han saw that tim's body was covered with the faint trances of the
trials he suffered the night before. tim, sensing his master’s presence rose
immediately and took his masters cock in his mouth easily swallowing the
contents of his master’s bladder before he began to lovingly tonguing his
masters hardening pole. Han sprayed his cum over tim's face then climbed in
the shower.
They day began with a late breakfast followed by a trip to the city to check
out the sights and some of the may fetish shops. The day ended with tim bound
naked to the bed in their room. After hearing M praise tim's training at the
breakfast table, Han decide to give his slave a rare reward, release. With tim
tied securely face up, Han removed the slaves chastity device and slid a
vibrator into the slave's ass. Han left the room as tim's his newly freed
member began oozing precum. Twenty minutes later Han returned with Andrew’s
nullo one to find tim moaning softly with his body sweating from the sexual
tension created by the vibrators slight tickling of his prostrate. “one, milk
him.” commanded Han. The slave climbed on the bed and straddled tim’s head
placing his nullified crotch in tim’s face be for he began to slide his
lubricated hand up and down tim’s straining cock. After months of denial, tim
came quickly shooting his load onto to his chest.
As he gazed across the room Han tried to remember all the names that matched
the faces he saw. The guests began arriving at nine and by eleven the house
was full. Fifteen, twenty, twenty-five, Han did not know, he lost track of the
number of masters after the first dozen or so. The diversity of the masters
surprised him. All Asian, they ranged from an eighteen year student just
arrived from Bangkok to retired Vietnamese doctor from New York. The one they
all had in common was their ownership of white slaves.
As for the slaves he had no idea. They began arriving in the early afternoon
now seemed to be everywhere. While some where waiting on the guests others
were in the dungeon preparing for the event or providing entertainment for the
guests that wandered in and out. The slaves not involved in serving the guests
were used and decoration. Twins, castrated, shaved and intricately bound in
rope stood on each side of the main entrance, in the center of the buffet
table was a young, beautiful, blonde nullo mummified with plastic wrap, and
placed in each corner of the room was a dickless slave tightly bound to St.
Andrew's Cross. The slaves represented most the western world and several
generations. Most were modified, wearing the brands and tattoos of ownership.
The few who genitals remained intact were bound in a catalogue of chastity
devices.
Near the bar Han stopped to talk to James. James, the son of wealthy Thai
industrialist had been the first to arrive. He stepped of a limo leading a
young, androgynous, goth by a leash, a slave that James had introduced as
“tonight’s entertainment”. As soon as they arrived James and the slave
disappeared into the dungeon leaving Han to ponder the meaning of the
introduction. From the conversation he discovered that James was in his first
year of his studies at Berkeley but had been a member of the been a member of
the club for years. The goth was a trick that James picked up the weekend
before and had decided to take as his first full time slave. As for the
meaning of the introduction, James was elusive only revealing that it was
related to the contract that the goth had signed the night before. “I don’t
think he read the whole thing” commented James “so he may be surprised .”
Before Han could probe further their conversation was irrupted by a Andrew
calling all masters to the dungeon.
During the evening the dungeon had been cleared of all equipment save two St
Andrew’s crosses against the far wall and a bed-sized shallow plastic pool
filled with what looked like oil. Attached to each corner of the pool was a
heavy chain that ended with a steal snap. Before Han could ask what was
happening Andrew began to address the assembled masters.
“The game is simple” he explained “ two slaves, the one the can prove he
deserves a dick can keep it. Tonight’s contestants are ian and ben”
James’s goth, now naked except for leather cuffs on his wrists and ankles was
lead by two slaves to one end of the pool.
“ian,” Andrew continued “owned by Master James, may skinny but you can tell by
the stiffness of his dick, he is ready to play”
“ben, on the other hand, is looks quite strong but his enthusiasm leaves
something to be desired. Place you bets gentlemen.”
As the masters began wagering among themselves M explained the game.
“ian, he is James’s slave, Ben belongs to a master in China, after tonight he
is on freighter to Hong Kong. Supposedly he was some straight, frat boy who
doubled crossed a drug dealer who sold him into slavery as revenge. The game
is simple, the first one to penetrate the other gets to keep his dick. My
money is on ian, he small but horny and that is the key.”
Looking at the two slaves Han had to agree. ben was a blonde who hand the body
and the looks of an A&F; model. Like ian, he was naked and wearing leather
cuffs on both his ankles and wrists. He looked strong enough to take ian but
his rather large dick could not seem to make it past half mast until one of
the attending slaves gave him a Playboy magazine to flip through. Compared to
ben, ian was thin and seemed almost girlish but he had one heck of a hard on.
“It is time” spoke Andrew. Both slaves stepped into the pool. As the attending
slaves began covering the contestant’s bodies with oil, ben began to lose his
erection. As Andrew raised a whistle to his lips, Andrew gave a signal and the
attending slaves stepped away leaving the contestants alone in the pool.
The whistle was so loud that several of the spectators jumped when it was
blown. ian immediately dove toward a startled ben and soon had the frat boy on
his back. First a wrist then the ankles, ian quickly had ben immobilized on
his left side struggling to free his hand. As ben struggled ian slide behind
ben and rammed cock into the frat boy’s virgin ass. ben screamed as ian fucked
him wildly. As ian came Andrew blew the whistle declaring ian the victor.
While bets where being settled Han watched the attendant slaves remove ben and
ian from the pool and bind them to St. Andrew’s crosses in the back of the
room. Both slaves were quickly cleaned and gagged as Ken, the doctor from New
York opened his bag. Andrew spoke.
“Well, I see some of you underestimated young ian here. Ian for you victory,
you can keep your cock, but you master has asked Ken to remove your balls, as
for ben, for your loss you forfeit your cock but your master prefers that you
keep your balls, so you will forever be tormented by sexual desire that you
can never release.”
Both slaves went white as they heard their fate. Although they were afraid,
both their cocks began to harden as Ken prepared for the procedures.
First to go under the knife was ian. James kissed his new slave before he put
two bands on the slaves balls. He stepped away as the Ken inspected the bands
and taped ian’s dick to his stomach. When Ken was finished, James leaned
against his slave whispering in ian’s ear as the knife slide through the
slaves sack. Han did not realize how quite the room had become until he heard
the thump of ian’s nuts hitting the floor. The crowed cheered and Han began to
unconsciously rub already hard cock through his jeans.
Watching ian lose his balls made ben more terrified. While James was cutting
ian, Ken had slid a catheter down ben’s fully erect shaft. Ken then waited for
the gathered master’s complete attention before he banded ben’s cock. As Han
watched, josh kneeled in front of him carefully taking his former neighbor’s
erection in his mouth. On stage Ken slowly removed ben’s cock. Just as Ken
placed ben’s cock into a jar, Han began to pump cum into josh’s mouth.
After the events of the night before, the fair was uneventful. On the flight
home Han and ben barely spoke. Ben thumbed through a magazine pretending to
read while Han listened to music and looked out the window. Ben had spent the
previous evening chained to the sink doing dishes so he missed the scene in
the dungeon. But Han was sure that the other slaves had told him what had
happened . Han had not yet told ben but M invited them Mexico in the spring.
Implied in the invitation was the offer to arrange ben’s nullification. How
would ben react to the invitation? And what about josh, M indicated that he
was ready for a new slave but where would M find one? One thing for sure it
was going to be an interesting year.
* * * |
Kailash (pt 01) | GAY, BI, TG, TESTICLES, FTM | FTM and eunuch erotic fiction. | Gaz had a thing for eunuchs and as serendipity would have it, he seemed to
attract them. Before he became the boyfriend (and then ex-boyfriend) of the
famous New Wave castrato, Peter West, and even before his il-fated
relationship with the twins, he was the female-to-male companion of the
beautiful post-pubescent performance artist Kailash.
Kailash was half Persian and half Indonesian, born in Bangalore and became a
eunuch at the age of sixteen. Not a _Hijra,_ mind you, but a eunuch. While the
Hindi term is often translated to "eunuch" in English, hijra is simply the
Hindi term for male-to-female transsexuals, and Kailash received a calling not
to live as a hijra but as an eunuch. At the age of nineteen, after he had
enough money saved up to travel to the United States, he ended up in Ann Arbor
after answering an advert in a Cleveland newspaper that requested an
Indian/Middle Eastern belly dance instructor. He never had any formal
training, but figured his "exotic" looks would allow him a sort of "get out of
jail free card" to fake it. Anyway, most of the people in the class were
first-wave hippie women in their mid-thirties who were too impressed by the
"genuine Indian eunuch" with perfect skin and hair and donned in exotic silks
to care whether or not he was teaching them the genuine Indian belly dances
that he claimed to be.
But he didn't meet Gaz _in_ that class. No, he met Gaz _outside_ that class.
Gaz was giving Celtic harp lessons in the next room to a _different_ bunch of
first-wave hippies. His didn't seem to care that he was bullshitting through
most of the lesson, they were more impressed by his thick Irish accent and
sharp Rude Boy attire. They met one day when Gaz was standing outside the
building smoking and Kailash stepped out for some fresh air.
"Oi, you're the eunuch, right?" Gaz asked.
"That's a huge burden to lace on me, you know, being _the_ eunuch?"
"Well, you're the only one I know of in this building."
"Are you the Irishman I've heard so much about?"
"That all depends on what you heard about me...."
Kailash then whispered in Gaz's ear, "the one who used to be the Irish girl."
Gaz looked stunned for a moment. This person had only been teaching at the
centre for a few weeks, just under a month. Does news really travel that fast?
Gaz then felt Kailash's hand on his chest and side "It's OK, I honour you as
who you are now, not who you were expected to be then. And for what it's
worth, I *am* attracted to you, and I can tell that you're attracted to me."
Gaz flicked the butt of his cigarette into the parking lot and whispered back
to Kailash, "i can't help it, you're stunning."
"Do you want me to fuck you, Irish boy?"
"So much. I want to take you home after my last class today. Do you drive?"
"Never. Take me with you."
It was one of those rare instances where the chemistry was just perfect for
all senses.
Gaz lived in a tiny efficiency apartment on Washtenaw Avenue, a straight drive
into Ann Arbor from the centre. As they galloped upstairs, one of the first
floor neighbours, a Japanese-American student only a little bit younger than
him from his Western Philosophy class, gave Gaz a thumbs-up. She knew Gaz had
been aching to get some lately but that he so rarely had the opportunity
because of the current state of his anatomy.
Gaz's bed was a simple mattress on the floor, but Kailash caught it in seconds
and lowered Gaz onto it as Kailash undid his silk top. Gaz reached into the
beautiful eunuch's loose trou and immediately found that Kailash was stiff.
"You look surprised, baby."
"I didn't think you'd be this hard."
"Don't say I'm the one who's hard, you did all the work, with that way you
just leaned against that building in this sort of swaggering manner than just
begs to be fucked."
Gaz started sucking on Kailash's beautiful member as he slowly removed his own
clothing, never moving his lips off of Kailash's beautiful body. Kailash laid
down next to Gaz and when Gaz was completely nude, he coaxed Gaz on top of
him, and lead his penis into the Irish boy's vagina. Gaz rocked his hips back
and forth on top of Kailash. Enjoying the freedom that the absent testicles
allowed, Gaz slowly began to lay down on his back and with surprising ease,
these two atypical men crossed their legs and began fucking in a sort of
rolling motion.
The acrobatic Kailash brought himself to his knees, never leaving Gaz's silken
alabaster body and made love to him slowly, gently, for what felt like hours.
Just hours of Gaz completely enveloped in pleasure that he had only ever, and
has only since, experienced with this stunning human gelding.
When Gaz was satisfied enough, he offered Kailash to "get him off," but
Kailash declined.
"I get my orgasm from just being your lover. Even if I never satisfy you any
more than sexually, I'll be happy."
* * * |
Der Tokioclub (gekŁrzt) German | BI | Die Geschichte vom Tokioclub ist nicht von mir,ich habe sie im Net gefunden. Zu meinen Bedauern handelt es die meiste Zeit um das Qušlen und verspeisen von jungen weiblichen Asiantinnen. Doch an einer Stelle geht es auch einigen Mšnnern an den Kragen.Diese Stelle habe ich herauskopiert und die Einleitung sowie den Schluss der Geschichte so veršndert das alles einigermassen einen Sinn ergibt. Nobody is perfect-doch ich hoffe es gefšlltMAX | ` Der Tokioclub `
In Tokio gibt es ein Restaurant, das sich ziemlich von jeder anderen
EŖgelegenheit in Japan, wahrscheinlich jedoch auch von jeder anderen in der
Welt unterscheidet. Es befindet sich nicht wie andere feine Etablissements in
einem der modernen Einkauf- und VergnŁgungsviertel, sondern am Ende einer
langen Allee in einem der Industriegebiete der Stadt, zwischen Schrottplštzen
und MaschinenhŲfen, nahe an der KŁste. Wenn dort das Geschšftsleben am Abend
verebbt, gibt es fast keinen Verkehr und in den dunklen StraŖen trifft man
keine Menschenseele. Und doch, jeden Abend kann man eine kleine Reihe
luxuriŲser Autos der Preisklasse Lexus, Acura und so weiter beobachten, die
durch die dunkle Allee bis zu einem Parkplatz gelenkt wird, einem flachen
Backsteingebšude gegenŁber. Das Gebšude hat keine Fenster. FrŁher einmal,
bevor es zum Tokioclub wurde, diente es als GieŖerei und seine einzige,
weithin sichtbare Besonderheit ist ein schlanker Schlot, der sich bestimmt gut
zwanzig Meter Łber den Flachbau erhebt.
So schšbig diese Umgebung auch ist Ė es handelt sich bei weitem nicht um ein
billiges Restaurant. Im Gegenteil, nicht einmal im feinsten Gasthaus auf der
Ginza werden solche Preise verlangt wie im Tokioclub. Hier gilt ein Festpreis
von 1.000 Dollar pro Person und Mahlzeit, und nur Clubmitglieder und einige
ihrer ausgesuchten Gšste kŲnnen hier einen Tisch reservieren lassen. Und es
ist keinesfalls die lokale Atmosphšre, die so reiche und mšchtige Leute in die
lausige und finstere Umgebung hier zieht. Vielmehr ist es das ungewŲhnliche
Fleisch, daŖ man hier zubereitet und serviert.
Nachdem man die Wagen geparkt hat, tritt man durch schwere, hŲlzerne TŁren in
einen Raum, dessen Ausstattung die Besucher (Mitglieder und ihre Gšste) nicht
viel mehr mit Attraktivitšt begrŁŖt als diese bereits von der AuŖenseite des
Gebšudes gewohnt sind. Es gibt hier keine separate KŁche, die lange, gemauerte
Halle ist Zubereitungs- und EŖraum in einem. In ihrer Mitte sind verschiedene,
ebenfalls gemauerte Bratstellen zu sehen, ausgerŁstet mit Metallvorrichtungen
an beiden Enden, die die BratspieŖe halten. ‹ber den SpieŖen befindet sich die
÷ffnung zum Rauchfang und hier ist auch ein mšchtiger Ventilator installiert,
der den Rauch in den langen, schmalen Schornstein treibt. Um die Feuerstellen
herum sind lange, geplankte Tische und Bšnke gruppiert, von denen aus die
Besucher ihre Mahlzeiten braten und rŲsten sehen kŲnnen und an denen die
Mahlzeiten schlieŖlich verzehrt werden Vielleicht aus diesem Grunde sucht man
weiŖe Tischdecken und teures Porzellan hier vergeblich. Als Teller sind
Zinnplatten im Gebrauch und die Gšste sitzen - ohne RŁcksicht auf Konto oder
Wichtigkeit der Person Ė nebeneinander wie Besucher einer einfachen
ImbiŖstube, verbunden in der Gemeinschaft von Leuten, die das verbotenste,
jedoch auch schmackhafteste Fleisch der Welt verzehren.
Wenn der gute franzŲsische Rotwein ausgeschenkt ist, werden die Opfer
hereingebracht.
Zehn japanische Mšnner, die meisten recht jung, einige in den mittleren Jahren
wurden in den Raum gebracht. Sie alle waren nackt und ihre Schwšnze und Hoden
waren rasiert. Die Hšnde hatte man ihnen auf den RŁcken gebunden und im
Łbrigen waren sie am Rumpf, an den Oberschenkeln und den Ellenbogen
aneinandergefesselt. Sie bewegten sich nur unwillig vorwšrts, da ihnen klar
war, daŖ ihnen eine Bestrafung bevorstand und daŖ diese streng und barbarisch
sein wŁrde. GlŁcklicherweise hatte man an den Feuerstellen viele Eisenhaken
zum GlŁhen gebracht, die den Wšrtern nun als Argumente beim Vorwšrtstreiben
der Mšnner zustatten kamen. Einige von ihnen, die auf die Knie fielen, um die
Reihe der Gefangenen zum Stehen zu bringen, wurden mit den rotglŁhenden Eisen,
die man ihnen an die Beine hielt, von der Sinnlosigkeit des Widerstandes
Łberzeugt. So trieb man die Reihe voran.
All diese Mšnner waren der Vergewaltigung unter besonderen Umstšnden ŁberfŁhrt
worden, was bedeutete, daŖ sie ihre Opfer getŲtet oder schwer verletzt hatten,
oder aber, daŖ sie sich an Kindern vergangen hatten. Offiziell gab es ja keine
Todesstrafe in Japan, also wŁrden diese Mšnner leben. Nach einem alten,
feudalen Recht jedoch sollte ihr weiteres Leben schlimmer als der Tod sein.
Der anfŁhrende Wšrter verlas nun, von einem Gefangenen zum anderen gehend und
mit dem Finger auf jeden deutend, die Strafregister und die ergangenen
Urteile. Die Menge der Gšste heulte bei jedem Punkt der Aufzšhlung auf und
schrie jedem Gefangenen ihre EntrŁstung und ihr MiŖfallen entgegen. Die
weiblichen Gšste nahmen inzwischen feste Bindfšden zur Hand, um die Hoden und
Schwšnze der Mšnner zu binden. Sie banden fest genug, um jeden ErguŖ zu
unterbinden, wie erregt die Mšnner auch werden mochten.
Dann kam die Zeit der weiblichen Gšste, der Ehefrauen und der sonstigen
Freundinnen mšnnlicher Besucher, nun sollten sie ihren SpaŖ haben. Vielleicht
wŁrde es fŁr diese Mšnner, die alle Vergewaltiger waren, die erstrangigste
Folter sein, nun selbst vergewaltigt zu werden. Nein, Sie glauben, daŖ dies
fŁr die Mšnner nur ein VergnŁgen wšre, doch vergessen Sie nicht, daŖ ihre
Geschlechtsteile so stramm gebunden waren, daŖ ihnen jeder Orgasmus versagt
war, so sehr sie ihn sich auch wŁnschten. Die Damen freuten sich, daŖ sie nun
ein wenig SpaŖ haben durften So zogen sie dann auch schnell ihre Kleider aus.
Eine hŲlzerne Plattform wurde vor der Reihe der verurteilten Vergewaltiger
aufgestellt, um den Frauen (alles Asiatinnen) die richtige Ausgangsposition
zum Besteigen ihrer mšnnlichen Opfer zu verschaffen, wšhrend die Wšchter die
Gefangenen von hinten am Ausweichen hinderten. Die Frauen, in hŲchstem MaŖe
angeregt waren feucht genug, um diese Mšnner nun zu Ąnehmenď. Auf der kleinen
Plattform hatten sie die perfekte Ausgangsposition zum Besteigen der vor ihnen
zitternden erregten Schwšnze.
Die Unfšhigkeit der Gefangenen, sich zu erleichtern, hielt die Frauen
keineswegs davon ab, ihre Becken auf das ausgewšhlte Spielzeug zu wuchten,
jede der Frauen fickte ihren mšnnlichen Gefangenen mit Hingabe. Es waren zehn
Damen anwesend, so daŖ alle einen der steifen Schwšnze fŁr sich in Anspruch
nehmen konnte. Wenn eine jedoch der GrŲŖe oder der Form des Schwanzes wegen
vorzeitig ermŁdete, genŁgte eine hŲfliche Anfrage bei ihrer Nachbarin, um
einen Tausch zu vereinbaren und so wechselte man die Schwšnze die ganze Reihe
hinauf und hinunter, bis jede der Damen mehrere Schwšnze ausprobiert und jede
auch einige Male zum HŲhepunkt gekommen war.
Erst nach einer Stunde weiblicher Raserei fŁhlten sich alle Damen befriedigt.
Denn sie hatten widerstrebende Opfer eigennutzig fŁr ihr sexuelles VergnŁgen
miŖbraucht.
Die Gefangenen atmeten erleichtert auf. Diese Art Strafe Ąschlimmer als der
Todď war zwar unbequem gewesen, jedoch immerhin auszuhalten. Nun verstanden
sie, was es bedeutete, sich vergewaltigt zu fŁhlen und die meisten wšren nun
bereit gewesen ihr Fehlverhalten einzugestehen. Es war physisch und auch
gefŁhlsmšŖig schmerzhaft, nicht zum HŲhepunkt gelangen zu kŲnnen, aber dennoch
erleichterte es sie, nun ihre Strafe erhalten und erlitten zu haben ...
allerdings war dies ein Irrtum, ein schrecklicher Irrtum sogar. Wie wir sehen
werden, war dies nur das Vorspiel und die wirkliche Strafe stand den
Gefangenen noch bevor. Erinnern wir uns, das dies hier ein Restaurant war, das
menschliches Fleisch als Spezialitšt fŁhrte.Es wurde Zeit fŁr das
WŁrstchenbraten.
Nachdem sich die Frauen wieder etwas in Ordnung gebracht hatten, ihr Haar
gekšmmt und ihr Makeup korrigiert, wurde die hŲlzerne Plattform entfernt. Die
Wšchter trieb die Reihe der zehn Gefangenen zur Lšngsseite einer der
Feuerstellen. Entlang dieser Wand war ein eiserner Grill angebracht, der, nur
wenig Łber den glŁhenden Kohlen, etwa 30 cm in Richtung der Feuerstelle ragte.
Die Mšnner waren ja so eng aneinandergefesselt, daŖ es nur weniger Wšchter
bedurfte, um den Block als Ganzes vorwšrts zu treiben, wšhrend andere den
ZŲgerlichen mit rotglŁhenden SchŁrhaken auf die ńrsche brannten. Hier war eine
Stufe zur Feuerstelle hin und die Mšnner wurden genŲtigt, diese
herabzusteigen. Erst hier erkannten diese dšmlichen Vergewaltiger, was mit
ihnen geschehen wŁrde. Auf der erniedrigten Stufe stehend, befanden sich ihre
steifen und eregierten Schwšnze nun direkt Łber dem Grill, und zwar so nahe
darŁber, daŖ das geringste Nachlassen ihrer Erregung unweigerlich dazu fŁhren
muŖte, daŖ die blanken Schwšnze auf dem heiŖen Eisen zischten. In den ersten
paar Sekunden fŁhlte sich die Hitze gut an, sogar geradezu erotisch, wie eine
heiŖe Sauna. Doch innerhalb der ersten Minute bereits begann die Hitze zu
brennen, und bald stach der Schmerz durch ihre Schwšnze und Hoden, nicht ganz
so stark wie es eine offene Flamme bewirkt hštte, jedoch zumindest etwa halb
so stark. Das Schlimme war, daŖ der Schmerz grŲŖer wurde, ein immer hŲheres
Niveau erreichte und sehr bald unaushaltbar war. Der normale Reflex war, sich
schnell zurŁckzuziehen, aber lšngst waren die Seile an schweren Eisenringen
beiderseits der Feuerstelle und an zusštzlichen Ringen dazwischen befestigt
worden. Nicht nur die Knie und HŁften waren so an der gemauerten Wand
gesichert, weitere Seile waren an Pfosten zu beiden Seiten der Reihe
angebracht worden, die nun die Ellenbogen und Nacken der Mšnner in konstantem
Abstand zur Feuerstelle sicherten. Die gefangenen Vergewaltiger waren so
professionell am Grillplatz fixiert
Nun, Łbernahmen die weiblichen Gšste das RŲsten der MšnnerwŁrstchen. Als
traditionsbewuŖte asiatische Frauen hatten sie durchaus nichts dagegen, beim
Kochen zu helfen, sondern waren eher begierig darauf. Ein wenig zŲgerlich
waren sie zunšchst schon, denn schlieŖlich hatte keine von ihnen bisher
menschliches Fleisch zubereitet und schon gar nicht einen Mšnnerschwanz, doch
nach einer kurzen Anleitung des Chefkochs waren sie bald frŲhlich mit dem
Grillen der mšnnlichen Genitalien Łber dem heiŖen Rost beschšftigt. So nah an
der Feuerstelle war die Hitze gewaltig, so daŖ diejenigen, die nicht sowieso
bereits nackt waren, den Rest ihrer Kleidung abwarfen und nun zehn nackte
Frauen, alle recht attraktiv, durcheinander kicherten und quasselten, wšhrend
sie die WŁrstchen zubereiteten. Mit Grillzangen und spitzen Fleischgabeln
drŁckten sie die Schwšnze der Gefangenen gegen den Grill, drehten und wendeten
die Penisse, um auch alle Seiten gleichmšŖig hinzubekommen. Die Schreie und
Bitten der Mšnner ignorierten sie. Nachdem sie die Verbrechen dieser Mšnner
zur Kenntnis genommen hatten, fŁhlten sie nicht nur kein Mitleid mit ihnen,
sie fŁhlten sich eher als Vollstreckerinnen ihrer BŁrgerpflicht, indem sie
diese Vergewaltiger auf die schlieŖlich direkteste und endgŁltigste Art
bestraften: Sie peinigten und zerstŲrten die Werkzeuge, mit denen die
Fieslinge ihre Schandtaten begangen hatten. Man sagte zwar, daŖ ein
Wiederholungstšter ohnehin niemals dazulernt, doch in dieser Nacht wŁrden die
Scheusale endlich kapieren, was Folter wirklich bedeutete ! Recht bald waren
die Schwšnze erst rot, dann gebršunt und es zeichneten sich die schwarzen
Spuren der Grillstšbe auf allen Seiten der Wiener, mit Ausnahme der Spitze,
ab. Die Mšnnerschwšnze hatten sich in zischende, dampfende und rauchende
WŁrstchen verwandelt, deren Haut Blasen bildete und auf dem Grill platzte. Die
Knie aller Gefangenen bebten lšngst, ihre ńrsche zitterten vor Schmerz. Die
anfšnglichen Schreie waren Łbergegangen in StŲhnen und Seufzen, wurden doch
ihre wertvollsten Teile direkt am KŲrper gekocht. Man kŲnnte erwarten, daŖ sie
der Schmerz nach einer Weile taub und unempfindlich machte, doch er tat es
nicht, er wurde im Gegenteil mit jeder neuen Seite der Schwšnze, die zischend
gegen den Grill gepreŖt wurde, immer schlimmer und grausamer. Nun benutzte man
lange Pinsel zum Auftragen der Grillsaucen auf die bratenden Schwšnze. Um auch
die Mšnner in der Mitte der Reihe ordentlich zu kochen, griffen die Frauen
zwischen ihnen hindurch, was ihnen Gelegenheit verschaffte, sie zu befŁhlen,
zu provozieren, ihnen Versprechungen ins Ohr zu flŁstern oder einfach nur in
ihre Hinterbacken zu kneifen oder auf diese zu schlagen.
Erst wenn eine spitze Kochgabel leicht, wie durch Butter, in die
MšnnerwŁrstchen eindrang, dann waren die Schwšnze fertiggekocht. Sie hatten
etwa zehn Minuten Łber dem heiŖen Grill gebraten und dies war genau die
richtige Zeit. An diesem Punkt Łbergab man der Frau jeweils ein scharfes
Filettiermesser und sie kastrierte ihr Opfer sšuberlich, indem sie das
MšnnerwŁrstchen mit der Fleischgabel durchbohrte und festhielt und die
Mšnnlichkeit an der Wurzel abschnitt, dort, wo der (ehemalige) Schwanz und die
Eier an den Lenden angewachsen waren. Die Mšnner schrien einmal mehr von
diesem neuen Schmerz, doch konnte man auch von einer Erleichterung fŁr sie
sprechen, denn nun fŁhlten sie das brennende Feuer nicht mehr an ihren
empfindlichsten KŲrperteilen. Da alle gleichzeitig gebraten wurden und fŁr
jeden Gefangenen ein weiblicher Koch zur VerfŁgung stand, wurden alle
Kastrationen praktisch gleichzeitig ausgefŁhrt. Einige Frauen fŁhrten ihre
Schnitte schwungvoll und wohlŁberlegt aus, andere lieŖen sich ein wenig mehr
Zeit und trennten die Schšfte der Opfer mit mehreren, langsam ausgefŁhrten
Schnitten ab. So oder so, die Frauen genossen die AusfŁhrung der endgŁltigen
Bestrafung dieser Vergewaltiger ebenso wie die MŲglichkeit, den hŲchsten,
ultimativen Akt weiblichen Sadismus zelebrieren zu kŲnnen.
Dann wurde die Reihe der Mšnner von den Wachen losgebunden, man trennte sie
Seile von den Haltepfosten und trieb sie vom Feuer weg. Der Vorgesetzte der
Wachen, der Łber eine medizinische Ausbildung verfŁgte, ging von einem
schwanzlosen SchoŖ zum anderen und suchte die Urinkanšle. Nachdem er diese
gefunden hatte, brachte er ein rostfreies, stšhlernes RŲhrchen daran an.
AnschlieŖend wurden die Wunden von einem anderen Wšchter mit einem glŁhenden
Eisen ausgebrannt. So waren die ehemaligen Vergewaltiger nun neutralisierte,
schwanz- und hodenlose Eunuchen, lediglich mit einem StahlrŲhrchen zum
Urinieren ausgestattet. Man wŁrde sie nun in die Gefšngnisse zurŁckbringen, um
ihre lebenslangen Strafen zu vollstrecken, doch beim Einmarsch in die
Gefšngnisse wŁrden sie noch nackt herumgefŁhrt. Diese Zurschaustellung
verfolgte drei Ziele: Einmal wŁrden sie dadurch Ė als letzter Akt ihrer
Bestrafung- tief gedemŁtigt werden, zum anderen diente es der Abschreckung
weiterer Tšter, denen anschaulich demonstriert wŁrde, wohin ernsthafte
Sexualverbrechen sie bringen konnten. Und schlieŖlich stellte man damit den
anderen Gefangenen diese schwanzlosen Mšnner als ihre ĄFrauenď vor. So schlimm
auch das SchwanzrŲsten und die Kastration heute fŁr sie gewesen sein mochten,
ihre Zukunft war um keinen Deut besser: Ihre Folter wŁrde weitergehen, fŁr
immer, solange sie am Leben waren. Bevor sie nun jedoch schmerzvoll schlurfend
das Restaurant verlassen sollten, war ihnen eine letzte, psychische Folter
zugedacht: Sie sollten das Verzehren ihrer frŁheren Schwšnze beobachten.
Die von den MšnnerkŲrpern abgetrennten Penisse und Hoden konnten von den
Frauen nun frei auf dem Grill bewegt werden, um das Braten der Spitzen zu
vollenden. Die gebršunten und mit schwarzen Grillstreifen versehenen
BratwŁrste, an welchen die Hoden hingen, wurden dann vom Grill genommen und in
Hotdog-BrŲtchen plaziert. Die Frauen trugen jede ihr Hotdog zum Buffet, um
dort eine ausgewšhlte Senfsorte oder andere Feinschmecker-Beigaben sowie
importiertes deutsches Sauerkraut als Dressing der Appetitshšppchen
hinzuzufŁgen. Dann standen die Ladies, splitternackt und siegesgewiŖ
nebeneinander, jede mit einem der ehemaligen Mšnnerschwšnze, die jetzt
dampfende WŁrste in BrŲtchen waren und zšhlten laut von drei rŁckwšrts (um
sich gegenseitig zu ermutigen, denn dies war fŁr die meisten ihr erster Bissen
Menschenfleisch), bevor sie zum ersten Mal zubissen. Dabei nahmen sie eine
Position ein, die ihnen erlaubte, direkt zu den Gefangenen zu blicken. Einige
der Gefangenen brachen daraufhin schreiend zusammen, erkannten sie doch ihre
ĄKŲchinď und konnten es nicht ertragen, ihre frŁhere Mšnnlichkeit nun mit
eigenen Augen als Snack zu sehen. Die weiblichen Besucher zeigten jedoch weder
Mitleid noch Sympathie fŁr die Fieslinge und im ‹brigen waren sie inzwischen
hungrig. Dennoch, obwohl ausgehungert, lieŖen die Frauen sich Zeit, erkundeten
den fŁr sie neuen Geschmack und genossen die knackige Struktur beim
HineinbeiŖen in die gegrillte Haut. Die Beigaben und der Senf hatten das Aroma
nur verstšrkt, und das Innere der RŲhren war unbeschreiblich Łppig, etwas, das
die Frauen bislang noch niemals gekostet hatten. Und auch beim Kauen der Hoden
genossen sie einen verboten guten Geschmack.
Nachdem alle Ladies ihren Snack verzehrt hatten, zerrte man die Mšnner, immer
noch nackt, zu ihrem Gefšngnisbus, um sie zu ihrem Marsch durch das Gefšngnis
zu bringen.
Die mšnnlichen Gšste hatten sich an dem ganzen Spektakel einschlieŖlich dem
Verzehren der ĄSchwanz-dogsď durch ihre weiblichen Kompagnons erfreut.
gefesselt, trugen die KŲche die nackten KŲrper (jede etwa 55 kg, sie waren
etwas fleischiger als ihre japanischen und Thai-Schwestern) die wenigen Meter
von den Schlachtbšnken zu demselben Grill, auf dem soeben die Schwšnze der
Gefangenen gebraten worden waren.
Die Gšste, gleichzeitig erleichtert und aufgeregt von ihrer (fŁr die meisten)
ersten Erfahrung in Kannibalismus, verhielten sich nun viel gelockerter und
waren gespršchiger als noch zuvor. Sie tranken ausgiebig und rauchten, machten
sich mit ihren Kameraden Kannibalen bekannt, man fragte, woher man sei, was
man beruflich mache und man tauschte Telefonnummern und Adressen aus.Die
Frauen schwšrmten ihren mšnnlichen Begleitern vor, was die Schwanzburger doch
fŁr ein GenuŖ gewesen seien.
So war jedermann schlieŖlich vŲllig entspannt.. Das Verzehren dieser
verbotenen Spezialitšt hatte nicht nur einen kulinarischen HŲhepunkt
dargestellt, es war auch eine extrem erotische Erfahrung gewesen. Ich denke,
jedermann am Tisch erkannte dies zur selben Zeit und diese Mšnner, die bislang
bekleidet geblieben waren, zogen nun alle ohne ein ŁberflŁssiges Wort ihre
Kleidung aus und warfen ihre weiblichen Begleiterinnen Łber oder auf die
Tische, so daŖ die Hintern der Damen herausstanden und vergruben ihre erneut
steifen Schwšnze tief in den Unterleibern der Ladies.
Ich denke, daŖ alle, Mšnner wie Frauen, gleichzeitig zum HŲhepunkt kamen und
der gemauerte Raum erfŁllte sich mit Schreien, StŲhnen und ńchzen, als sie
sich alle auf einmal loslieŖen.
Es war ein hšŖlicher Stadtteil, eine nicht gerade luxuriŲse Umgebung, doch ich
glaube, daŖ jeder von ihnen einverstanden wšre: Es war das beste Abendmahl,
daŖ sie jemals hatten.
* * * |
Wounded Boy, A | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES, MINOR | Queen Iona gets a surprise when a young boy enters her life. | ` It was her practice occasionally , if her palace was in need of extra
workers, for Queen Iona to allow some of her subjects to put their case to her
personally. To work for the Royal estate was a great honour as far as her
subjects were concerned. Seated on her throne she would hear their
submissions. They would come in, heads bowed, and prostrate themselves before
her. They usually consisted of males seeking work on the Royal estate and
female seeking a position in the Palace. The boy who entered now did not seem
to fit either category. She was immediatly struck by his beauty. He was about
fourteen years of age. He was wearing the traditional greek peasant garment, a
short skirt, which reached to about mid-thigh. His torso was bare. He had a
pretty oval face and short fair hair. His skin was as smooth as a girls. The
boy came in, head bowed, and prostrated himself before her.`
" Speak child, she ordered, "what is it you seek?".
" I seek a position on the royal estate or in the Royal gardens, Your
Highness, he said.
As he spoke she gazed at him. He was the prettiest young boy she had ever
seen. As she looked at him she quickly made up her mind as to how he would be
employed. She smiled to herself. She dismissed her servents from the Throne
Room. " Come nearer boy" she ordered. He came towards her slowly, frightened
now.
" Do not be frightened child, you will not be harmed."
She held him by the hips, and then began to stroke his arms and bare chest.
" You are a very pretty boy" how old are you?".
" I am fourteen years of age, Your Highness", he answered.
She looked up at him.
" I have decided to take you into Palace service" she told him. " Not in the
gardens or on the estate though. You will serve your Queen in another way. You
will be placed in my male harem so that I may enjoy your beauty.
The boy reacted with horror.
" No no please, not that your Highness, I am no good for that, please Your
highness".
She was amazed at the outburst.
" How dare you refuse your Queen, I will have you punished for this".
" No no, please ,you do not understand, I am no good for harem,no good,
please, please, I beg you".
Despite her anger , she began to wonder why he seemed so agitated.
" Why do you say you are no good for the harem?" she asked him.
She was surprised to see that he was crying. His whole body trembled.
" I am no good for harem" he sobbed. I am not like other boys, not like other
boys between legs".
" What do you mean, not like other boys between your legs?".
" I have been done" he sobbed.
" What do you mean, how have you been done, what has been done to you".
" I have been cut, cut between my legs, they have been cut out of me." She was
getting angrier now.
" What was cut out of you, what do you mean?, speak".
He was really sobbing now.
" My testicles, they were cut out of me, cut out of me with a knife. I was
castrated, I no good for harem, they cut me , I am a gelding".
She stared at him, her mouth open in astonishment. She sat back on the throne,
unable to speak. She tried to compose herself. She thought she had a pretty
young stallion, but what she had was a gelding. She tried to make sense of it
all in her mind. She stared at the boy. But what a pretty gelding. She looked
down at his groin. The little boy had no testicles between his legs. She began
to feel a strange excitment now.
Suddenly she stood up.
" Come with me " she ordered.
Taking him by the hand she led him down the corridor to her bedchamber.
" Kneel on the bed, with your face and shoulders down on the bed, keep you
bottom in the air and spread your legs wide" she ordered.
The boy did as she commanded.
She knelt on the floor behind him. With her eyes closed she lifted the boy`s
garment and pushed it up along his back. Then she opened her eyes. She gasped
as she gazed at her first castrated male. She ran her hands up along the
outside of his thighs to his bottom,then slowly slipped her hand between his
legs, her fingers feeling the small mound where his testicles once hung. Her
excitment mounted as her fingers probed the two small scars. "This was where
they cut him" she thought, "this was where his pretty stones hung before he
got the knife". Then her head was between his legs, her mouth sucking
feverishly on the mound, her tongue running over the two small scars. Her
crotch was soaking. What she was doing kept going around and around in her
head. " I have my head between the legs of a castrated boy, I am sucking a
castrated boy, I am sucking him where he was cut, my tongue is on his
castration scars". Suddenly she exploded in a wave of estasy.
To be continued.
* * * |
Mediterrania Eterna | STRAIGHT, PENECTOMY | A masochist finds his ideal mate against the backdrop of a strange and distant future. | **Mediterrania Eterna**
I shifted with anticipation in the leather seat of the high speed shuttle as I
thought of her, nine long months had passed since our last appointment and I
was grateful for the chance to hold her in my arms again.
Not wishing to prolong my suffering, I attempted to redirect my attention to
the passing landscape. After all, how often was an Allepan allowed to leave
the city? It was certainly a rare privilege, and I should be honored that the
council had so generously approved my visa. That’s what I kept telling myself
at any rate.
I marveled at the seemingly endless verdant fields outside my window, the
breadbasket of Medeterrania. Grapes, wheat, tomatoes; a cornucopia of produce
all tended with obsessive care by the Danes.
Mediterrania Eterna. That was the term, the eternal nature of our beautiful
homeland, its people, its law. Our perfect existence exemplified by
Ciggareadu’s pastoral mural which adorned the wall of every school in Aleppo.
Curious word, “school”. I think we borrowed it from the Danes sometime in the
distant past. A tragic irony that our word for a house of education should
have been inherited from those we now enslaved.
I felt pity observing them laboring in the full midday sun, their pale skin so
unsuited to such endeavors. They were certainly an oppressed people. Ever
since their displacement by the Attati over two centuries ago, they had fought
to return to the Rhine valley from whence their ancestors sprang.
The Attati themselves certainly weren’t entirely to blame, having been
dispossessed of large tracts of their own ancestral lands by American Unionist
Yesuites fleeing the Pan American Federation after the inauguration of the
first openly homosexual humanist prime minister.
I vividly recalled the tale of the Battle of Konigsgaard from school, of the
Sultan Atturi and his men desecrating the Temple of Luther. Officially of
course Medeterrania was an ally of the Sultanate of Attat, but images of the
indentured and long suffering Danes had made their impression early on, an
impression that I would not soon forget.
As the sun began to sink into the western sky I found myself drifting off, and
the next thing I saw were the lights of Lydia twinkling in the distance.
Wiping the sleep from my eyes, I set about gathering my things in preparation
for disembarking.
Lydia was as beautiful as I remembered. A sparkling emerald gem on the coast,
filled with pristine examples of Volastan architecture, it was indeed a “City
of the Second Renaissance”. The influence of nature was everywhere, from the
Council building which bore a striking likeness to a conk shell to the Towers
of Eras clearly inspired by the labyrinthine architecture of a coral reef.
I managed to stumble onto the loading platform just in time to see Alicia
heading towards me at full speed. Fortunately her missing shoe slowed her
enough to prevent a collision which might have been more than I could handle
in my present condition. She still managed to injure me a bit, and proceeded
to squeeze most of the blood from my torso as she hugged me with all her
might, squealing like a madwoman.
“Oh my God!” she shrieked, looking absolutely ecstatic as she stared into my
eyes, mouth agape, makeup more than a little askew. “I see things were a
little backed up at the institute again,” I replied, grinning. “Oh, shut up!”
she shot back, giving me a mock slap.
Even disheveled she managed to be the image of perfection I had always
regarded her. Suddenly she stopped babbling and simply gazed into my eyes,
sensing my adoration. Her smile grew tender and then widened a little; a high
pitched sigh escaped her lips before they met my own. I stood there frozen in
place, savouring the feel and taste of her until a railman encouraged us to
move on.
Groping and giggling in the dark, we made our way to the adjacent platform and
caught the next shuttle to Eras where it would be easy to hire a cab to the
institute.
I thought it was more than strange that she would want me to sleep over at the
institute itself, but I was willing to endure anything for another chance to
take her in my arms. She would be utterly mine if only for an hour or so.
Not surprisingly, sleep came only in fits and fretful ones at that. I was sure
I could hear screams from time to time emanating from one of the many cutting
rooms at the far end of the building. Once I awoke briefly to the sight of a
rather short, muscular man who was being forced down the corridor, presumably
to one of those dreaded cells. He was entirely naked and sported a substantial
throbbing erection maintained by a cock ring which bit deeply into the root of
his penis. A moment later one of the security team rapped my slightly ajar
door with his nightstick. “Nothing to see here, lights out,” I sheepishly
complied, pulling the door shut and made a mental note to be oblivious in
future. These were people you didn’t anger. My dick was far too precious to
end up on the floor of some cutting room to satisfy the whim of a
megalomaniacal guard.
As I finally drifted off into a real sleep my thoughts turned once again to
Alicia. Stimulated by the sight of the prisoner, I recalled seeing her once in
full regalia, something a civilian isn’t normally exposed to. Her blonde hair
was pulled back tight in a bun, her pale, perfect breasts pushed up and
outwards by a leather bustier. A black leather garter belt was about her waist
complete with matching straps affixed to fishnet stockings. The blonde bush I
had enjoyed so as a teenager was almost trimmed away and lay nestled between
two delicious plump thighs. It was an image that inspired more than a few
masturbatory sessions.
The following morning Alicia tore me from slumber with a sharp jab to the
ribs. Ordinarily I would have laughed, however rude the awakening, but within
the cold walls of the institute, it nearly gave me a heart attack. Realizing
the likely cause of my distress, she burst out laughing. “Would you like it
bronzed or stuffed?” she asked, struggling to keep a straight face as she
recited the concluding words from a children’s story every Aleppan boy is told
to ensure he doesn’t veer from the straight and narrow. “Hah, hah,” I replied,
clearly agitated.
After I came to my senses, I noticed her amazingly tight leisurewear and
wondered if she would let me take her in the shower. Instead she tossed me
some standard issue government soap (gentle as sandpaper) and fresh linen.
“Clean up, you stink! Personally, I like it,” she teased, giving my balls a
little squeeze, “but rules are rules, remember the taxidermist!” she
concluded, unable to stop herself from laughing once again.
I obediently shuffled off to the shower attempting to hide the full erection
inspired by her brief but wonderful palming of my eggs.
Once I was “Eras Fashion” I was able to sit with the object of my affection
and socialize properly. If I was truly proper I was sure to be laid within the
hour, or so I hoped anyway. We kissed again briefly before I sat, and she
filled me in on all the dirty details edited from our vidphone conversations.
It wasn’t long before she was on about her beloved profession again.
“You can always tell when a thick one is on the table,” she related with some
satisfaction, wearing a sarcastic grin. “What do you mean?” I asked, knowing
what kind of answer I might expect. “The screaming lasts forever!” Alicia
replied, giggling just a little. “I mean, you can always tell, when it’s a
real tuber, takes at least five minutes with a standard cut, but the girls
stretch it out much longer than that if they’re having fun,” she continued,
grinning widely now, clearly stimulated by the thought of it. “Technically its
illegal I know, but who can blame them? I did one for nearly half an hour
once, it was wonderful!” she added, briefly closing her eyes and biting her
lips while she pictured the straining shaft of her victim once again. “Jesus,”
I mumbled. “Did he survive the procedure?” I asked, more than a little put off
by her lack of empathy. “Oh shit, Bob! Of course he did! I’m not a murderer,
just a biter and cutter!” she exclaimed, flashing perfect clinched teeth as
she winked. “He enjoyed it,” she said softly, looking down for a moment.
Someone who was less familiar with her eccentricities might have assumed she
regretted her actions, or was at least ashamed of them, but I knew her arousal
was peaking. “Bullshit,” I said flatly, a slight sneer on my lips. “OK, you’re
right, towards the end he was in a lot of pain, but he really did enjoy it at
first, you know, when I was breaking the skin and just cutting into the shaft,
he came……a lot,” her voice had grown raspy now, a sultry whisper. “Mmm…” she
moaned softly. Her hand found its way between her thighs, skilled fingers
began to brazenly rub her clit through the immodest thin fabric of her tights.
“Really?” I replied, with feigned sincerity. “Oh God!” she gasped, her hand
quickening its work about her nub. “Oh yeah, there was so much, so thick and
hot. God, it was so hot it took me by surprise a little, you know? All over my
lips and cheek, my chin, some on my t-tits,” she stammered a little as she
convulsed in pleasure.
I lost any concern I might have had regarding her mental health, and quickly
dropped my shorts to reveal my own thick dick. Fortunately Alicia’s mind was
so clouded with lust that she failed to give my rude maneuver a second thought
and proceeded to jerk me furiously whilst she frigged herself. Her eyes
fixated on my cock when they weren’t rolling back their sockets in sync with
vaginal contractions. I knew she was fantasizing about slowly slicing through
my girth, but I really didn’t care, her little performance had worked its
alchemy on my testicals and I wanted her snatch, whether she was sociopathic
or not.
“Let me cut you, Robert,” Alicia hissed, leaning forward to give the head a
little lick. “It’d be sooo, fuckin’ hottt…..” I was always amused at the way
her teenage grammar and inflections reemerged once sufficiently inflamed. Not
waiting for an answer, she proceeded to lick and suck my shaft with all the
skill those ten years of cutting had afforded her. Once I was red and
throbbing she looked up at me, face flushed and pupils wide with animal
passion. “Mmm….I want to slice it, Bobby!” she exclaimed, her lips red and
lacquered with a combination of saliva and precum. Much to my amazement I
found I was actually considering her offer.
“Let me fuck you,” I wheezed, dodging the question. “Fuck me Bobby!” she
squealed, apparently thrilled at the prospect. In an instant she was on her
back near the table, legs spread wide, knees drawn up to give me maximum
access, so professional. Her plump little ass wiggled with anticipation as I
lowered myself atop her, positioning my jerking tool at the sultry entrance to
her sopping cunt. Just as I was about to ease the tip past her swollen lips,
she wrapped her strong small legs around me and literally pulled me completely
within her. I was stunned by her strength and speed, and found myself worried
that she might somehow overcome me in a moment of passion, permanently
separating me from the member I loved best. “Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!” she
squeaked beneath me, bucking her petite hips, stroking my rod hard and fast
within her searing wet tunnel. At that my lower brain took over and I began to
fuck her in earnest, again letting lust belay my concerns. I was unable to
last more than five minutes this way before spilling a huge load within her,
rolling off to the side almost immediately to catch my breath.
Without saying a word Alicia instantly rolled over and began sucking me once
again, cleaning my organ of our mingled fluids. I was surprised to find I was
still horny, if out of breath. I decided I would bide my time while she worked
on me, torn as to whether I should let her finish me off in this manner, or
attempt to fuck her once again. Fucking her was certainly wonderful, but an
event unto itself. I imagined I knew something of how rodeo riders must feel
at the end of day. The longer she mouthed me, the more lustful I became,
certain I would fill her mouth as I had her cunt minutes before.
Suddenly she withdrew her hot mouth from about my shaft and worked me with her
hand as she stared into my eyes. “Mmm… Bobby, look how thick and hard it is,”
she cooed, jerking my shaft. My penis did look magnificent under her care, as
big as it had ever been it jutted from my pubic hair like a proud root, the
shaft a dark red, the head a ruddy purple, pre cum drooling copiously from the
slit.
“Let me cut it just a little, Bobby!” hissed Alicia. “I swear I’ll just break
the skin, you know you’re not on the list, I’ve got no reason to hurt you
honey,” I must have been suffering from testosterone poisoning because at this
stage of the game I actually did want her to cut it just a little. I wanted it
badly. Perhaps years of listening to her yammer on about severed shafts and
shooting cum had affected me for the worse subconsciously. “Do it,” I replied,
“Now!” “Oh Jesus! Bobby!” she squealed, her face drawn into a cute frown by
the ache in her pussy.
I waited for her to get up and fetch a blade, but to my surprise she simply
reached behind her left ear and produced a razor blade. “What the fuck?” I
exclaimed without thinking. “Trick of the trade,” Alicia chirped, giving a coy
smile and wink. In a flash she had engulfed the head of my dick once again and
a moment later had made her way to the base of my shaft. The feel of her lips
against the base made me feel as though I might ejaculate at any moment. Being
the consummate professional, she was quick to realize that fact, allowing my
rampant penis to slip from her mouth for a moment.
Alicia gazed deeply into my eyes as she stroked my shaft, bringing the blade
near my penis. “Oh Bobby, look at your dick...” she purred. “You’ve let it get
far too hard, I think you’re about to come,” she scolded. “I can’t let that
slide Bobby, you know you have to pay,” I nodded in agreement, fighting to
keep from blowing my load before she could cut me a little. “It really is sick
that would let things get this out of hand, Robert,” she chastised. “I’m going
to have to do much more than I did before, I did warn you,” there seemed
little trace of the school girl now, she had been replaced by her older and
obviously corrupt sister. I nodded once again, wincing this time as though
bracing for punishment.
She took the head back inside in her mouth, moaning into my urethra and
brought the blade to bear against my shaft. I felt the cold steel begin to
break the skin and a tingle in my shaft that rapidly led to an unbelievable
rush of adrenaline and pleasure. Pleasure like I’d never known coming as
though forcibly injected down my shaft and flowing through my body. It felt as
though my nuts were dumping enough chemicals into blood stream to fuel a
rutting bull. I began filling her mouth with my seed at a rate I hadn’t known
I was capable of and noticed that the volume appeared to match the ferocity
and speed of the spasms as a thick stream escaped her beautiful lips and ran
down my shaft. She continued to gently saw away at the base of my steely
member, making her way along the diameter of the root, being sure to break the
skin all the way round. I continued to pump her full of my essence for the
next minute or so until at long last I exhausted myself and went limp, a sperm
and blood soaked mess.
I lay there virtually asleep while Alicia lovingly cleaned me and attended to
my wounds. After a time, I was vaguely aware of a pause, and then felt her
warm, velvet skin against my own as she snuggled against me, her head
eventually coming to rest on my chest. “Lets get married Bobby,” she said,
toying with my chest hair. Her infection made clear it was more a question
than a statement. “In a heartbeat baby if you’ll finally quit this place and
be my personal cutter,” I replied. “Bobby, I wish I could, but a Mistress
Cutter is under contract until she’s thirty, after that they reevaluate.
That’s three years away, you’d have to put your life on hold just for me,” she
said, clearly disappointed. “I would wait another decade for you if I had to,”
I responded without hesitation. At that she rose up a little and kissed me on
the lips. “It’s done then,” she whispered. “I’m utterly yours after
evaluation,” Aroused by her acceptance, I fucked her once again, being careful
of my wounded dick.
That night I returned to Aleppo with the scar at the base of my dick and
several long cuts on the surface of my dickhead; Alicia’s idea of a going away
present, something to remember her by until our next meeting in the fall.
The state jealously guarded its cutters, making sure the bulk of their sexual
energies remained devoted to the job. It would be another month before she
would be in my arms again. That night as I jerked myself, still excited by our
uniquely intense encounter, I savored the biting pain the motions of my hand
registered in my penis. I thought again of her lovely little face as she
begged to cut me and of the look in her eyes as she realized her passion. It
was too much for me, and for the fourth time in twelve hours I shot a
satisfying if rather meager load. Mediterrania Eterna indeed.
**End
**
* * * |
Die Römerin | 1. Teil | Antistia Politta war die Frau des Quintilius Antistia. In jungen Jahren waren
war sie an ihren wesentlich älteren Mann aus politischen Gründen verheiratet
worde. Man führt daher auch nur eine politische Ehe. Ihr Mann weilte im fernen
Gallien als Militärtribun und hatte sie schon mehr als zwei Jahre lang nicht
mehr besucht. Großen Bedarf hatte sie danach aber auch nicht. Sie selbst lebte
in der Provinz Dalmatia, fern von Rom und seinen Vergnügungen. Ihr einziger
Vorteil war, dass sie auf ihrer abgeschiedenen Insel im Reichtum leben konnte,
ohne irgendwelche Kontrolle ihres Mannes oder seiner Verwandten. Großzügige
Spenden sorgten dafür, dass sich die örtlichen behörden in keiner Weise darum
kümmerten, was sie auf ihrem kleinen Eiland so den ganzen Tag trieb.
Früh am Morgen ging sie heute mit ihren beiden geliebten Zofen und ihrem Hund
Zerberus herunter an den kleinen Hafen ihrer Insel, wo gerade eine Liburne
eingetroffen war. Ihr favorisierter Sklavenhändler war verabredungsgemäß
wieder erschienen. Demütig grüßte dieser Politta und einer kurzer Wink
genügte, dass die Sklaventreiber die neue Handelsware auf den Kai trieben. Es
waren insgesamt 10 junge Mädchen aller Hautfarben und 50 junge Männer aller
Schattierungen. Hinzu kam ein Käfige mit einem Löven und einem Bären. Diese
beiden waren bereits vorbestellt gewesen und wurden von den Sklaven der
Politta sofort ihn ihre Gehege verbracht.
Zunächst wurden die Mädchen gemustert. Alle hatten sich mittlerweile völlig
ausgezogen und präsentierten ihre nackten Leiber artig, der aufmerksam
beobachtenden Politta. Die ist zu fett, die hat einen zu wabbeligen Arsch, zu
kleine Brüste kommen nicht in Frage. Insgesamt war Politta sehr wählerisch und
nur 5 Mädchen durften sich einem Sklaventreiber anschließen und wurden von
diesem beiseite geführt. Eine der Restlichen, eine Gallierin, zeigte sich
zickig, weigerte sich auszuziehen und schrie herum. Ein kurzer Peitschenhieb
beruhigte sie etwas. Politta kaufte sie gleichwohl, aber ihr Sklaventreiber
führt sie zu einem kleinen Hügel, wo sie sich niederknieen musste.
Die beiden Geliebten der Politta, genannt Daphne und Helena hatten sich
mittlerweile mit den jungen Männern beschäftigt. Diese standen in Reih und
Glied in der prallen Sonne auf dem Kai. Helena und Daphne hatten bei 10 von
Ihnen dafür gesorgt, dass ihre Schwänze steil nach oben standen. Meistens
hatte es gereicht eine wenig an den Eiern herumzuspielen, in einigen Fällen
nahmen die beiden jedoch ihren Mund zur Hilfe. Diejenige wurden von den beiden
mit kleinen Schleifen gekennzeichnet.
Politta ging die Reihe durch. Ein junger Nubier mit tiefschwarzer Haut
präsentierte einen fetten 23 cm Schwanz. Kurz befühlte Pollita ihn, nickte
wohlwollend und mit einem kurzen Wink wurde er ihrem Sklaventreiber
herübergeschickt. Der nächste war ein älterer, dicker Judäer, ca 40 jahre alt.
Sein beschnittener Schwanz war nicht ganz so groß, aber dick und geädert. Auch
er wurde aus der Reihe gewinkt.
Ein kleiner Gallier mit blonden Haaren war weniger gut bestückt. Er versuchte
sich von seinen Handfesseln zu befreien und trat nach den Sklaventreibern..
Auch er musste sich zu der jungen Gallierin auf dem Hügel gesellen. Weiter
ging es so, die Reihen entlang. Der Sklavenhändler wußte sehr wohl, was
Politta bevorzugte. Sie achtete hauptsächlich darauf, dass ihre neuen Sklaven
schöne Schwänze und Säcke hatten. Auf die Größe oder die Form kam es dabei
weniger an. Auch die Statur oder das Alter waren nicht so wichtig.
Letztendlich hatte Politta nach einer guten halben Stunde 35 Männer ausgwählt.
Alle Farben waren vertreten, vom tiefscharzen Afrikaner bis zum hellhäutigen,
rothaarigem Briten.
Alle Auserwählten mußten sich nun an dem Fuß des kleinen Hügels aufstellen.
Die restlichen Frauen und Männer wurden vom Sklavenhändler wieder auf die
Liburne getrieben. Irgendwo würde er sie schon loswerden. Ehrfürchtig nahm er
einen dicken Beutel Sesterzen an sich und verabschiedete sich ehrerbietig. Ein
so gute Kundin verärgerte man ja auch nicht. Schnell legte das Schiff ab und
segelte in die Ferne.
Politta postierte sich mit Daphne und Helna vor der ihren neuen Sklaven. Seht
zu was passiert, wenn ihr euch widersätzlich zeigt, rief sie über ihre Köpfe
hinweg. Derweil hatten zwei ihrer Sklaventreiber die junge Gallierin an beiden
Armen gepackt.
Ein Dritter versenkte eine 1,50 langen oben abgerundeten Pfahl in einem Loch
und packte dann die Gallierin unter den Oberschenkeln. Diese sah, was ihr
bevorstand und wand sich in den festen Griffen der Sklaventreiber. Diese
führten den Pfahl in ihre Scheide ein und ließen sie langsam herunter. Dann
schnitten sie ihr die Handfesseln auf dem Rücken auf und das Mädchen zappelte
mit den Beinen, dass ihre Brüste wogten. Langsam trieb sie sich damit den
Pfahl in den Körper, obwohl sie versuchte sich mit den Händen abzustützen.
Noch einen ganzen Tag sollte ihr Jammern auf der Insel zu hören sein.
Dann war der junge Gallier an der Reihe. Er wurde gekreuzigt. Am Kreuz war
eine kleines Standbrett befestigt, auf welchen er gerade so auf den
Zehenspitzen stehen konnte. Nur seine Handgelenke waren angenagelt. Der
oberste Sklaventreibe schnitt ihm kurzerhand die Hoden und sein Glied ab.
Brutus kam wedelnd herbeigelaufen und jaulte ein wenig. Der Sklaventrieber
hielt ihm das Gemächte vor die Nase und spielte etwas mit dem gierigen Hund.
Schließlich bekam er sein Teil und schluckte Schwanz und Hodensack des
Galliers schnell herunter. Der Gallier sang irgend ein Lied in seiner
barbarischen Sprache. Erst gegen Abend wurde er langsam leiser.
Keiner der Sklaven hatte etwas gesagt oder sich auch nur gerührt. Aber man sah
deutlich das alle etwas blasser geworden waren. Für heute war es genug. Die
Sklaven wurden in ihre Quartiere gebracht.
Politta, Daphna und Helena gingen in das Badehaus und ließen sich verwöhnen.
\---------------------------------
Am Abend war eine besondere Vorstellung geplant. Im Atrium wurde eine
Holzkohlenstelle mit ca. 1,50 m Durchmesser aufgebaut. Darüber lag, auf
kleinen Füßen aufgestellt, eine Kupferplatte mit einer 1 m hohen
Gitterumrandung. Die Kupferplatte konnte durch die Holzkohle erhitzt werden.
An gegenüberliegenden Seiten waren im Randgitter Aussparungen, die auf ein je
50*50 cm große Podeste führten, die nicht erhitzt wurden.
Pollita drappierte sich völlig nackt auf ein paar Kissen, einen Kelch Wein und
Naschereien in Reichweite. Daphne dient mit ihren nackten Brüsten als
Kopfkissen während Helena die rasierte Möse ihrer Herrin mit der Zunge und den
Fingern liebkoste. Die Drei hatten schon am frühen Morgen zwei Kandidaten für
den kommenden kleinen Wettkampf ausgesucht. Ein Nubier und ein blonder Germane
wurden den Dreien vorgeführt. Ein Sklavin sorgte dafür, dass ihre Schwänze im
in aller Schnelle zu beachtlicher Größe wuchsen. Der Nubier hat einen geraden
Schwanz von ca. 21x6 cm, der Germane bot immerhin 18x5 cm auf. Beide Schwänze
pulsierten mächtig als die die latten aus ihrem Lippen entließ.
Die Sklaventreiber setzten die Beiden nackt auf die Mitte der Kupferplatte und
banden ihre Fußknöcheln mit leichten Kupferketten an ihre Säcken fest, sodaß
sie beide nicht aufstehen konnten. Die Schwänze und der Sack wurden fest
abgebunden. Die Hände liefen sie frei, befestigten aber an der rechten Hand
ein Messer. Dann wurde durch die Eichel der beiden ein Stahlhaken gestochen.
Was für ein nettes Gejaule. Die beiden Haken wurden dann mit einer leichten
Kupferkette verbunden. Die beiden wunderten sich über diese Anordnung, aber
Daphne erklärte den beiden sofort was ihnen bevorstand. Die Platte wird jetzt
heißgemacht, so heiß bis eure Hintern verkohlen. Ihr könnte natürlich auf die
Podeste kriechen, die haben aber nur jeweils Platz für einen von euch. Der
andere wird langsam verschmoren. Allerdings gibt es eine Lösung. Das Messer
könnt ihr gerne benutzen. Stecht ihr euren Gegner ab, so müßt ihr ihn an eurem
Schwanz so lange ziehen bis ihr das Podest erreicht habt. Viel Vergnügen, eure
Eichel wird dann wohl abreißen. Die andere Möglichkeit ist einfach die, dass
ihr euch den Schwanz und die Eier abschneidet, dann seid ihre beide frei.
Pollita lächelte sanft. Wohl nicht nur weil Helena sie verwöhnte.
Ein Hauseunuch warf nun eine Fackel unter die Kupferplatte und das Holz und
die Holzkohle entzündete sich. Die beiden nackten Kerle schauten sich nur um
und wußten nicht, was sie tun sollten. Mit der Zeit stieg die Hitze in die
Kupferplatte und die Männer spürten die Hitze langsam an Po und Eiern. Der
Germane fing an langsam in Richtung seines Podestes zu rutschen. Schmerzhaft
zog der Haken an den Eicheln der Beiden. Der Nubier rutschte schnell hinterher
und versuchte den Germanen zu erstechen, aber sein Arm reichte nicht weit
genug. Der Germane erreichte langsam beinahe sein Podest. Ihre Schwänze
dehnten sich extrem und aus den Eicheln drang Blut hervor.
Gespannt verfolgte Pollita das Geschehen und schob sogar Helenas Kopf zwischen
Ihren Beinen weg. Die Hitze wurde für beide langsam unerträglich. Der Nubier
verzweifelte langsam, sein Schwanz schmerzte unerträglich, offensichtlich war
der Germane härter gesotten als er. Trotz schmerzhaft verzerrten Gesichtes und
schier endlos gestreckten Schwanzes zog er weiter, bis er seinen Hintern und
die Eier auf dem kühlen Podest in Sicherheit hatte. Der Nubier war schon durch
die Hitze und die Schmerzen geschwächt. Mit verzweifelten Gesicht begann er
dann doch das zu tun, was Pollita erhofft hatte. Er fing an sein Schwanz
abzuschneiden. Das war aber leider nicht schnell gemacht. Das Messer was
stumpf! So musste er lange säbeln bis er frei war, seine steife Latte fiel auf
die Kupferplatte und schmorte vor sich hin, derweil er schleunigst zu seinem
Podest rutschte.
Lauter Beifall kam von den Dreien. Der Germane wurde den Dreien vorgeführt und
Helena nahm sein doch etwas beschädigtes Glied in den Mund und blies ihn
zärtlich bis er sich schließlich mit einem kräftigen Strahl in Ihren Mund
ergoß. Er bekam einen kleinen Klapps auf den Po und wurde fortgeführt. Der
Nubier hingegen war nun wertlos geworden. Als Ausklang des Abends wurde er nun
hingerichtet. Der Bärenkäfig wurde hereingerollt und der Nubier dem Bären
vorgeworfen. Ausgehungert machte er mit dem schwarzen kurzen Prozess.
Pollita schaute dem blutigen Schaupsiel gelangweilt zu und ließ sich dabei
zwischen den Beinen von Daphne lecken. Dann gingen die Drei zu Bett.
\---------------------------------------------------
Nach einer lesbisch-erotischen Nacht nahm Pollita dann ein leichtes Frühstück
ein. Die Hauptmahlzeit sollte dann jedoch am Abend stattfinden. Dazu wurde
eine der jungen Sklavinnen dann aus der Unterkunft geholt. Pollita musterte
das junge Ding. Es war strohblond hatte mittelgroße, feste Brüste und einen
ausladenden aber festen Hintern. Was meint ihr zu ihr, fragte sie Daphne und
Helena. Sie ist gut im Futter, nicht zu hager und nicht zu fett. Ich denke sie
ist geeignet, meinte Daphne. Mit einem kurzen Wink wurde Koch herbeigerufen.
Als das Mädel diesen sah, ahnte sie was kommen würde, viel auf die Knie und
flehte um Gnade. Der Koch gab ihr statt einer Anwort einen Schlag mit dem
Holzknüppel über den Kopf und zog sie an den Haaren hinweg in seine Küche. Das
Hauptgericht war organisiert und zur Beschaffung der passenden Beilage wurden
am späten nachmittag 15 der Sklaven herbeigeführt. Sie wurden nebeneinander in
der prallen Sonne an Pfähle gefesselt. Den 15 wurde sehr bald klar, welche
Rolle sie erfüllen sollten. Ein junge, nackte Zofe kniete der Reihe nach vor
jedem und blies ihnen den Schwanz steif. Der Koch band dann die prallen
Schwänze mit je zwei Bändern straff ab. Nach einer guten Weile glänzten 15
Schwänze in der Sonne einer praller und fester als der andere. Ein Langer,
eine Dicker , ein Weißer ein Brauner ein Tiefschwarzer.
Pollita reckelte sich wieder auf ihrem Kissenberg. Sie war denkbar guter
Laune. Deshalb forderte sie Daphne und Helena auf sich als erste, jeweils 3
Schwänze auszusuchen. Mit lüsterdem Blick wanderte die beiden die Reihe
entlang. Helena befühlte den Riesenschwanz eines Nordafrikaners. Fest, mit
prall hervortretenden Adern, beschnitten und pfeilgerade. 18 cm nur aber schön
dick. Sie deute dem Koch und dieser kam herbei, faßte den Ständer fest an und
mit einem schnellen Schnitt wurde der Schwanz abgeschnitten und in eine Schale
gelegt. Daphne war vor einem Briten in die Knie gegangen und beäugte dessen
Pimmel. Hellweiß, leicht nach oben gebogen, unbeschnitten mit sehr zarter
Haut. Ein kurzer Wink und auch der Brite schrie hell auf, als sein Prügel
gekappt wurde und in eine Schale wanderte.
Die anderen 12 waren entsetzt, mit geweiteten Augen, sahen sie die
abgeschnittenen Schwänze in den Schalen.
Helen sucht sich dann noch ein kurzen, dicken Schwanz und einen riesen Prügel
von 25 cm aus. Daphne nahm sich ein knabenhaftes, aber bildschönes Schwänzchen
und auch noch ein stattliches Stück von 20 cm.
Pollita bat dann die beiden ihr auch noch 4-5 Stück auszusuchen, sodass nach
kurzer Zeit 11 Schwänze in drei Schalen lagen. Der Koch verschwand mit seiner
Beute. Dass er diese Stücke goldbraun grillen sollte, brauchte ihm keiner zu
sagen.
Daphne und Helena fingen dann an, auf dem Hof Tischchen aufzubauen, Wein
herbeizuholen Früchte und Nüsse zu dekorieren, derweil Pollita sich im Bad
massieren ließ. Ein griechischer Sklave trug dann das Helden-Epos von der
Eroberungs Trojas vor und dann versammelten sich die Drei im Hofe und lagerten
sich auf die Sofas an den Tischen.
Erst wurde das Mädchen vom frühen Morgen serviert, Kopf, Unterschenkel und
Unterarm abgeschnitten, glänzte ihr Leib goldbraun gebraten auf dem Speiss und
wurde vor Pollita aufgestellt. Pollita ließ ein Stückchen vom Hintern
abschneiden und verzehrt es mit zierlichen und bedachten Bewegungen und mit
großem Appetiet. Daphne nahm ein Stück Brust und Helena bediente sich
ebenfalls am Hintern. Derweil präsentierte der stolze Koch den Nachtisch, 11
goldbraun, gebackene Schwänze. Schön weichgekocht und dann scharf angebraten.
Bei einer leisen Unterhaltung mit viel kichern wurde beraten, was mit den vier
restlichen Sklaven geschehen solle, die noch an den Pfählen standen und sich
des Besitzes ihrer Schwänze und Eier noch erfreuten.
Freudig weldend kam Brutus zufällig vorbei und schnell wußte Pollita was
geschehen solle. Die vier Männer -ein Gallier, ein Brite, ein Grieche und ein
Nubier- wurden auf dem Boden liegend zwischen vier Pfosten aufgespannt und
präsentierten ihre Teile den Damen. Die Blaszofe eilte herbei und sorgte für
schöne steife Schwänze. Der herbeigerufene Koch beeilte sich die Eier und
Schwänze der Jungs mit Bratenfett von der Spiesssklavin einzureiben. Brutus
wurde losgelassen und dieser eilte schnell zu den sich windenden junegn
Männern und fing an bei dem Gallier ganz links Sack und Schwanz abzulecken.
Dann began er an am Sack zu zerren und zu reißen bis er diesen vom Körper
getrennt hatte. Dann packte er auch den vor seiner Nase hin und her wackelnden
Schwanz verbiss sich in diesen und biss ihn ab. Zufrieden kauend und
schluckend lief er zu Frauchen. Daphne hatte ihre kleine Wette gewonnen und
klatsche vor Freude mit den Händen. Schnell stand sie auf ergriff eine Fackel
und legte sie zwischen die Beine des des Briten. Gelle Schreie hallten über
den Hof. Das Feuer fraß sich in Schwanz und Eier des armen Opfers, der
schließlich bewußtlos nach hinten sackte.
Man trank noch ein Schlückchen Wein und die drei erhoben sich wieder und ging
zum Griechen. Helena blies den Schwanz des armen Opfers noch etwas an, damit
dieser wieder strammer würde. Pollita faßte mit festen Griff das gute Stück
damit Daphne eine Öllampe unter den Schwanz halten konnte. Die Flame züngelte
nahezu unsichtbar um die Eichel des Griechen, der wie ein Stier brüllte.
Langsam ließ Daphne die Ölflamme unter dem Schwanz hin und her wandern. Das
Schreien steigert sich zu einem grellen Gekreische bis auch der Grieche das
Bewußtsein verlor.
Der Nubier hatte dies antürlich alles mit angesehen. Große weiße Augäpfel
leuchteten und er schwitzte am ganzen Körper. Doch er hatte scheinbar Glück.
Pollita ließ ihn losbinden. Sanft faßte sie ihn am Arm und brachte ihn in ihr
Schlafzimmer.
Dort musste er zuerst Daphne , dann Helena von hinten besteigen und
durchficken, bis beide erschöpft in den Kissen lagen. Sein Manneskraft hatte
aber ein Ende, als er auch Pollita befiedigen sollte. Am nächsten Morgen
fanden ihn die Haussklaven beim Saubermachen wieder auf dem Hof vor. Aus
seiner durchgeschnitten Kehle sickerte noch Blut in den hellen Sand. Sein
Schwanz, an dem noch die Eier hingen, steckte in seinem Mund.
\-------------------------------------------------------------------
Nach dem Frühstück besichtigte Pollita mit ihren beiden Geliebten die
Stallungen. Ein riesiger weißer Hengst war für das heutige Schauspiel
vorgesehen. Sein gewaltiger Penis ragte hervor, da in dem Nachbarstall eine
rossige Stute untergebracht worden war.
Pollita ließ eine Bock aufstellen. Mit Leder bezogen war er ca. 80 cm hoch und
an seinen Beinen waren, Ösen zur Befestigung von Ketten angebracht.
In der Nacht hatte der Sklavenaufseher zwei junge Gallier entdeckt, die sich
gegenseitig befriedigten. Ordnungsgemäß hatte er sich die beiden gegriffen und
vor dem Stall an zwei Pfosten angekettet. Da standen sie nun nackt und bloß,
total rasiert und zitterten vor Angst. Daphne ging zu den beiden und fragte,
wer das Spielchen angefangen habe. Beide wiesen alle schuld von sich. Nun gut,
sagte Daphne, sie zeigte auf den Größeren von beiden. Der Sklaventreiber
kettete ihn los und führte ihn in den Stall. Dort machte er ihn auf dem Bock
fest, dass er seinen nackten, knackigen Hintern präsentierte. Helena gab ihm
einen Klapps auf dem Po und lächelte ihn an. Der Gallier schwitzte vor Angst,
er ahnte was passieren würde. Sein Hintern wand sich auf dem Bock, doch die
Fesseln hielten. Du wolltest doch deinen Spass haben, jetzt bekommst du wohl
mehr als du wolltest. Der Gallier weinte. Der Hengst wurde herbei geführt. Der
Stallmeister hatte derweil an der Scheide der Stute ein Tuch feuchtgemacht und
damit den Hintern des Sklaven eingerieben. Der Hengst schupperte aufgeregt
daran. Dann wurde er über ihn geführt und sein gewaltiger Penis, so vor den
Hintern des Sklaven gehalten, dass er nur noch zustoßen musste. Der Gallier
schrie entsetzt als er die Eichel des Hengstes zwischen seinen Arschbacken
fühlt, wieder windete sich sein Hintern anregend. Mit einem gewaltigen Ruck
spießte der Hengst den schreienden Sklave auf und fickte ihn durch. Sein
Schreien nahm kein Ende. Jeder Stoß spieste ihn auf. Er fühlte den mächtigen
Penis in seinem Darm, er wurde völlig ausgefüllt. Dann kam der Hengst und sein
Sperma erwärmt den Gallier. Schließlich lief das Hengstsperma in Strömen aus
seinem Hintern. Mit einem abschlaffenden Glied wurde der Hengst fortgeführt.
Der Sklave wurde wieder an den Pfahl gekettet.
Der zweite Gallier war nun an der Reihe. Der Hengst war vorerst nicht mehr zu
gebrauchen, aber die Stute mußte gedeckt werden. So zwang man ihn sich auf
einen Hocker zustellen und die Stute zu besamen. Nach einige Zeit und leichtem
Anspornen durch Peitschenhiebe auf dem Hintern spritzte er dann aber doch ab.
Letztlich hatte ihm das neue sexuelle Erlebnis ja auch Freude gemacht.Er hatte
gehofft das die Sache damit erledigt wäre, aber weit gefehlt. Er wurde in den
Schweinestall geführt. Dort musste er vor einen Schweinekoben auf die Kniee
gehen und wurde am Gitter festgebunden. Sein Schwanz war zwar schon tätig
gewesen, aber ein wenig Nachhilfe durch die zarte Hand Daphnes und er ragte
wieder schön gerade und fest in den Koben hienein. Die sanfte Berühurng dieser
zarten Hand erregte ihn mächtig. Die Sau hatte schon Interesse an seinem
Schwanz gezeigt und daran geschnüffelt. Sie fing an ihn abzulecken, da er
aufgrund des Schwitzens etwas salzig war. Auch dies war angenehm und sein
Schwanz reckte sich noch mehr. Aber dann biss die Sau in das pralle Stück
Fleisch, riß und zerrte daran. Der Sklave quickte hell und riss an seinen
Fesseln. Die Sau riß den Schwanz ab und schluckte in herunter. Das Blut leckte
sie ab. Dann began sie auf dem Sack des Sklaven zu kauen. Ein Eimer Wasser
brachte ihn wieder zu Bewußtsein.
Die Sau riß dann auch den Sack ab und verschlang ihn. Der Sklave wurde
gelassen wo er war und die Damen begaben sich in das Badehaus, um sich frisch
zu machen.
Für den nachmittag war eine kleiner Sklavenkampf in Aussicht genommen. Die
Insel verfügte sogar über eine kleine Arena. In der prallen Sonne räckelte
sich Polliat unter einem baldachin und sah Helena und Daphne zu wie sie 3
Sklavinnen und einen Nubier in die Arena trieb. Die drei Sklavinnen waren
hellhäutig und hatte alle große wogende Brüste. Der Nubier war ein kräftig
gebauter Kerl mit einem Riesenschwanz. Hört zu, die Sache ist ganz einfach,
rief Helena. Eure Aufgabe ist es dem Nubier den steifen Schwanz abzuschneiden
und ihn der Herrin zu bringen. Wenn ihr das schafft, habt ihr die Aussicht
hier auf der Insel als Haussklavin zu arbeiten. Der Schwanz muss aber steif
sein. Wenn ihr ihn soweit habt, bekommt ihr von mir ein Messer und eine Schnur
zum abbinden. Du Nubier, bekommst auch deine Chance, schaffst du es, alle drei
durchzuvögeln und vollzuspritzen, bekommst du einen Job als Sklaventreiber. Du
darfst dir dann eine zur persönlichen Fickstute auswählen, die anderen werden
dann lebendig verbrannt.
Entsetzt hörten alle vier von ihrer Aufgabe. Aber sofort lief der Nubier los
und schlug eine der Mädels bewußtlos. Er konnte sie nicht bespringen, weil die
anderen beiden sofort auf ihn zusprangen und zum Stolpern brachten. Er konnte
sich gerade noch auffangen und weiteren Angriffen entgehen. Sein geiler
steifer Schwanz schwang hin und her. Pollita beobachtet das ganz genau. Die
Frauen umkreisten den Nubier der ständig irgendwie nach einer Seite sichern
musst. Unbemerkt von ihm, war die Dritte langsam erwacht. Schaute sich um,
erhob sich vorsichtig und schlich sich an. Der Nubier bemerkte sie im letzten
Augenblick, aber schon hatte sie ihm Sand in die Augen geworfen. Sie warf sich
gegen seine Knie und schwer viel er in auf den Rücken. Die Weiber stürzten
sich sofort auf ihn. Eine setzte sich mit ihrem festen Hintern auf das
Gesicht. Eine setzte sich auf seinen Bauch die Dritte legte sich über die
Beine. Triumphierend lachten sie alle auf. Der Nubier wußte was nun kommen
musste. Er schwitzte vor Angst. Seine Augen waren geweitet. Sein Schwanz hatte
vor Angst völlig seine Standkraft verloren und hin , immer noch recht groß
zwischen seinen Beinen, die er nicht mehr bewegen konnte. Er versuchte sich
durch drehen und winden aus seiner Umklammerung irgendwie zu lösen. Aber der
Hintern auf seinem Gesicht nahm ihm langsam die Luft. Er roch, dass die Votze
über ihm feucht war. Aber auch das machte ihm noch eher Angst. Die Weiber
freuten sich offensichtlich darüber, dass sie seinen Schwanz als Trophäe
nehmen konnten. Er versuchte seinen Schwanz und die Eier zu verstecken. Aber
mit aller Gewalt gelang es den Weibern, seine Bein auseinander zu bringen. Die
Dritte quetschte ihre Kniee zwischen seine Oberschenekl und so präsentierte
sich ihr sein Gemächte. Der Nubier sah aus den Augenwinckeln wie Helena den
Weibern ein Messer und die Schnur brachte. Verzweifelt wand er sich unter den
Leibern der Weiber. Mittlerweile hatte die Dritte angefangen seinen Schwanz zu
blasen. Obwohl er es nicht wollte, ragte kurz darauf sein mächtiges Teil prall
und fest empor. Dicke Adern und eine prächtige Eichel zierten ihn. Er
pulsierte heftig, als er spürte wie das Weib die Lederschnur um die
Schwanzbasis Band und festzog.
Pollita schaute erregt zu, wie der feste kräftige Körper zwischen den Weißen
weichen Leibern der Frauen kämpfte. Mit Freude sah sie sein pulsierendes Glied
und wartete gespannt auf den entscheidenden Schnitt.
Die Weiber machten sich jetzt ein Vergnügen daraus, den Nubier etwas zu
quälen. Er spürte einen scharfen Schnitt im Schwanz und bäumte sich auf. Das
Weiberfleisch drückte ihn aber wieder zu Boden. Langsam säbelte das Weib
zwischen seinen Knieen den Schwanz an der Basis ab. Er schrie, Tränen standen
in seinen Augen. da ließen die Weiber von ihm ab, schwenkten triumphierend den
Schwanz vor seinem Gesicht und brachten ihn johlend zu Pollita. Helena ging
schnell zu dem Nubier und schnitt ihm die Kehle durch. Für ihn war es fast
eine Erleichterung.
\-------------------------------------------------------------------
Sein saftiger Schwanz wanderte auf den Grill und wurde abends an die
Gewinnerinnen verteilt.
Abends sollte der Gallier seinen Rest bekommen, der so erfolgreich von dem
Hengst bestiegen worden war.Sein blutiges Poloch war derweil so behandelt
worden, dass nicht das Blut den schönen, hellen Sand verdreckte.
Zwischen vier Pfosten wurde er an Armen und Beine gespreizt aufgehängt, dass
sein Schwanz schön nach untern baumeln konnte. Musiker wurden gerufen und
angenehme Musik verbreitet sich im Hof. Eine Schaale mit besetn Weihrauch
wurde entzündet. Wein und Knabberein wurden zurecht gestellt. Pollita fläzte
sich auf einem Sofa und beobachtete , wie Helan und Daphne sich entkleideten
und dann begannen, sich mit dem Gallier zu beschäftigen.
Der Gallier hatte bemerkt,dass der ganze Aufwand nur betrieben wurde, um
Pollita eine schöne Entschwanzung geniessen zu lassen. Er hatte ja gesehen was
seinem Landmann mit dem Schwein passiert war. Die Aufmerksamkeit aller war auf
seine pralle Latte gerichtet, die sich leicht gebogen in die warme Abluft
reckte. Er war geil, sowas hatte er noch nicht erlebt, irgendwo hatte er wohl
eine masochistische Ader.
Helena prüfte seine latte zunächst einmal, zarte Haut, deutlich sichtbare
Adern, leicht gnach oben gebogen. Ein schwerer Sack hing ihm zwischen den
Beinen. Die sanften Berührungen reizten seinen Ständer noch weiter, bis er zum
platzen fest war. Wohlige Schauer durchliefen den Gallier. Ein Kerze wurde
entzündet. Helena streifte seine Vorhaut zurück und ließ die Kerzenflamme
sacht die Eichel umspielen. der gallier brüllte wie am Spieß und sein Körper
zuckte und wand sich. Da er nur aufgehängt war, konnte er sich relativ gut
bewegen. Aber mit zarter Hand hielt Helena seinen Schwanz fest und führte die
kerze immer wieder an seinen Schwanz. Der Gallier reckte sich, zog sich hob,
aber er konnte der Flamme nicht entkommen immer wieder biss die heiße Glut in
seinen Schwanz. Er brüllte und brüllte, aber nicht half. Da ihn die Schmerzen
langsam betäubten, verlor sein Ständer langsam die Standkraft und so wurde er
erstmal etwas hängen gelassen. Die Blasskalvin kümmerte sich derweil um ihn,
während Pollita Daphne zu sich rief und ihr einen Auftrag gab.
Pollita nahm etwas Wein zu sich und lehnte sich zurück. Der Gallier sah ihr in
die Augen und fand dort nur verachtung für ihn als Mann.
Langsam war sein Schwanz unter der behandlung der Blassklavin wieder zu leben
erwacht. Stolz präsentierte sich seine Männlichkeit den Damen.
Der Gallier wurde heruntergeholt und auf dem Rücken liegend im Sand
ausgebreitet, an vier Pfosten im Boden befestigt. Da war wieder der Hengst.
Sollte er nochmal besprungen werden, so am Boden liegend?
Nein. Dem Hengst wurde ein Band scharf um die herausstehenden Hoden gebunden.
Der bäumte sich auf, wurde aber schnell zur Raison gebracht. Das Band wurde
mitteles einer Kette mit einem widerlich aussehenden Eisenring verbunden.
Dieser war hälftig aufklappt und hatte 1 cm lange gebogene Stacheln an seiner
Innenseite. Helena ging süffisant lächelnd auf den Gallier zu, knieete sich
vor ihm hin und streichelte ihm über sein Haar. Er spürte den süßen Duft ihr
Titten, die vor seinem Gesicht hingen, er genoß ihre zärtliche Berühung seine
Sackes durch ihre kundige Hand. Er sah nicht, was jetzt passierte, aber er
fühlt es. Die Stacheln des Ringes schlossen sich um sein pralles Glied und
drangen ein. Etwas Blut quoll hervor. Dann spürte er wie sein Schwanz fest
abgebunden wurde. Der Schmerz frass sich durch seinen Unterleib. Er zuckte hin
und her, doch jedesmal trieben die Stacheln sich tiefer in sein
Schwanzfleisch. Sie wollten, dass der Hengst ihm seinen Schwanz abreißt,
schoss es ihm durch den Kopf. Daphne stand hinter dem Hengst und wartete nur
das Zeichen von Helena ab. Ein leichter Klapps auf den Pferdehintern und der
Hengst zog vorsichtig an. Auch er spürte den Zug auf seinem Sack, deswegen
gallopierte er nicht einfach los. Sacht wurde er angetrieben. Der Gallier
schrie. Ihm wurde nicht der Schwanz abgerissen, sondern durch die Stacheln
langsam zerfetzt. Immer weiter rissen die Stacheln nach vorne. Er konnte nur
versuchen nachzurücken, aber irgendwann, war dies aufgrund der Fesseln nicht
mehr möglich.Immer weiter zerfetzten die Stachel sein ehemals prächtiges
Glied. Viel Blut kam nicht mehr, dazu war der Schwanz zu fest abgebunden. Sein
Unterleib stand in Flammen, er spürte jeden kleinen Riss wie einen Nadelstich.
Schließlich fassten die Stacheln unter seiner Eichel und setzten sich fest.
Immer weiter zog der Hengst. Immer länger wurde sein Schwanz aus dem Leib
gezogen. Er brüllte, er jammerte, er schrie, aber das machte Pollita, Helena
und Daphne nur noch geiler. Endlich schlug Daphne fest auf den Pferdearsch,
der Hengst machte einen Sprung. Ein reißendes Geräusch. der gesamte Penis war
dem Gallier komplett aus dem Leib gerissen worden und mit ein Paar Hautfetzen
daran, wurde er nun durch den hellen Sand fortgezogen. Helena kniete sich
breitbeinig über sein Gesicht und er spürte nur noch, wie sie ihm ins Gesicht
pisste, bevor er bewußtlos wurde.
\------------------------------------------
* * * |
|
The Sibling Bout | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES, Brothers | Two brothers battle over the same girl | ` In the not too distant future, two men who both want the same woman are
allowed to fight for her. This type of fighting is called the Battle of
Manhood. Women, who have become more submissive in the new world order, agree
to accept the victorious male. The fights are carried out under strict
supervision by a panel of judges. These Battles of Manhood are very rare,
however, for one simple reason. The loser of the mate is CASTRATED. The
castration is preformed under medical supervision; however, the new eunuch
often loses his job, friends, and status after he his neutered. This process
helps make sure that men solve their problems non-violently, and that if they
do resort to violence, it is controlled and the violent males are
“depopulated” from the society. `
As time has gone on, these fights are less and less common. And, by law, all
participants in the fights must be over 20 years old (the age of marrying).
However, many of the younger males tend to hold matches of their own to prove
their manhood. These matches are really just “playacting” compared to the real
thing—younger males instinctively acting out the actions of their elders.
Usually one boy beats the other up and then both are disciplined for their
unsanctioned fighting. Usually no one really gets hurt. Usually…
The Sibling Bout
The Friday before Spring break was dragging on for everyone in the high school
that day, but probably more than ever for Jason and Brian. The two brothers
had finally decided a way to resolve their major conflict, and both were
anxious to solve their problem. At 3:00 PM that afternoon, the boys had agreed
to hold their own tournament in the school gym in an effort to determine which
of them would be able to pursue Gina.
It had started months ago, when Jason had met Gina in one of his classes. She
was not the most beautiful girl in school, but she was extremely attractive,
blonde and with an incredible personality and fun-loving nature. Jason was
soon smitten with her, and once he told Brian about his new love interest,
Brian's soon became enamoured as well. The brothers had never really had a
major confrontation about anything, but they had always been highly
competitive and both secretly always wanted to excel beyond the other.
Since the boys were 7, they had been enrolled at a local Shotokan Karate dojo,
and both had proven themselves to be more than capable students. Jason was 17
and in the eleventh grade now, but he had already risen to the rank of 3rd
black belt in his sport. Brian, on the other hand was only 15 and a high
school freshman, but he was a 1st black belt and still on his way up. Brian
often secretly resented his older, bigger brother, who was 5'10 and 160 pounds
to Brian’s only 5'8 and 145 pounds, but both boys were solid and muscular and
considered to be very good looking.
While Brian sat in his final class of the day, he pondered the impending fight
with his own brother. The two of them often sparred, and he had felt the force
of Jason's kicks many times. His brother was much stronger than he was, with
muscular thighs and with calves as hard as rock, but Brian was quicker, more
flexible and much more evasive in a fight. While Jason could stand toe to toe
with most adversaries and trade blows, Brian relied on avoiding attacks and
delivering devastating counters. Brian also had a fondness for racking his
enemy’s testicles with his knee lifts and kicks, and was often disciplined by
his sensei for using dirty tactics to bring an opponent down.
Jason also used his share of strategically aimed blows to weaken an enemy, but
he did not get the same charge out of it that Brian did. Jason fought almost
mechanically, hammering away at his enemy until his superior strength and
talent prevailed. Both boys were devastating in a fight, however, and the
afternoon's fight would be unpredictable at best.
The bell ringing snapped Jason out of his trance. He realized it was time to
head to the locker room of the gym to change into his fighting gear and
prepare to deal with his upstart brother. He jogged to the gym to warm up, and
once there opened his locker. After undressing, he looked at himself in the
mirror briefly. All his working out had paid off. His body was trim, tight,
and strong. His upper legs could use some more work, he thought. Most guys
don’t work their legs enough, and he didn’t intend to be one of them. He
briefly regarded his male part swinging between his legs. He had masturbated
just last night thinking about Gina, having his straining hardness inside her
warm wet self. Before he knew it, his dick was erect, curved up slightly and
straining for something to rub against. Oh, he wanted Gina. But damn, he
couldn’t let his brother or anyone else who might walk in see him like this.
He turned way to get dressed. He had opted to wear a somewhat non-traditional
outfit for his battle--a tank top that hugged his muscular upper body tightly
and a short pair of nylon running shorts with a ball hugging jock underneath.
As he slipped his Nikes back on, he wondered when his brother would show up to
take his beating.
Brian arrived at the gym a few minutes later than Jason, rushing in and trying
to get ready for the fight. He had decided to wear his Karate Gi and no shoes,
just as he always did at his dojo. He wore this outfit more out of habit than
anything else, and he knew that if he was relaxed and natural he could win
this fight. After he slipped on his jock and his protective cup, he pulled the
pants of his Gi up over his strong legs and headed for the main area of the
gymnasium.
Jason laughed when he saw his brother enter the gym in his typical uniform.
Brian always had been a sucker for tradition, and this fight was a chance for
him to teach his brother a lesson. Once and for all he would prove that his
younger brother would learn his place and to quit fucking around with his
superiors. There was a small crowd of spectators sitting in the gym bleachers,
hoping to get a glimpse of some bloodshed as these hot brothers fought.
....
The brothers had rolled out several wrestling mats so that the floor would be
softer if either of them fell during the bout, but Brian did not intend to
fall. He walked straight up to his brother and bowed, then backed up several
feet and assumed a fighting stance. They were both ready, and there was no
turning back. Gina watched from the front row of the bleachers, silently
hoping that Jason would win and his younger brother would end his pursuit of
her. She fully intended that, after this silly fighting, she and Jason would
go back to her parent’s house and lose their virginity together. But they
would have to hurry and get there—her parents would be home around 5.
Brian threw the first blow; he attempted a roundhouse kick to Jason's head,
but missed by several inches. Jason laughed and countered with an elbow to
Brian's chest that knocked Brian back 3 feet and almost off the mat. Brian was
enraged by this and jumped forward, delivering a solid and powerful instep
kick right between Jason's legs that connected with his balls and lifted him
several inches off the ground. Jason doubled up and yelped from the pain in
his nuts. Brian just laughed and asked his big brother "Oooops, sorry Jason,
do your balls hurt?"
Jason was in a great amount of pain, but his balls weren’t crushed. He lifted
a hand from his aching nuts and backhanded Brian across his smug face. Brian's
head whipped back from the force of the blow and attempted another quick kick
to Jason's balls to further hurt him, but Jason blocked it and went on the
defensive. Jason followed up though, and executed a hard jumping kick into
Brian's chest, knocking his younger brother back hard and onto the solid wood
floor of the gym and far off the wrestling mats.
Brian was furious now, having been embarrassed in front of all these people
and being knocked around by his older brother. His temper flared and he got to
his feet ready for another shot at Jason. He advanced on Jason and feigned a
short jab at Jason's head, but when his brother went to block the shot, he
reached down with his other hand and grabbed his brother’s jock-clad balls in
his strong hand and yanked down. Jason screamed and moaned from the sudden
pain in his nuts, but he had the foresight to also reach out and grab his
brother by the balls.
Both boys were in extreme pain now, but Brian twisted and yanked on Jason's
balls and attempted to crush them as hard as he could. Just when Jason could
no longer take the pain of his balls being crushed, Brian launched his knee
straight up and into his brother’s balls, crushing them even worse. All the
males in the audience let out a cry of sympathy as Jason crumpled to the
ground, clutching his aching gonads. Brian laughed and cheered, thinking his
brother was done for.
Jason however, was far from being done. He looked up at his celebrating
brother and slammed a solid uppercut into Brian's balls, smashing them hard.
The crunch from the blow was so loud everyone heard it, and once again the
guys in the audience winced at the sight of a man getting his nuts cracked.
Both boys were now in tremendous pain and were trying to recover from their
aching balls, but Brian recovered first. He stood and looked down at his
suffering brother and decided to nail his balls while he could.
Brian snuck around Jason and got behind him, while he brother was on his knees
with his legs spread and his hands clutching his aching balls. Brian backed up
and took aim between Jason's legs, calculating the blow he was about to
deliver. He pulled back his kicking leg and let fly with a hard kick straight
between Jason's legs. Jason was lifted almost 2 feet off the ground as his
nuts were crushed by Brian's hard kick, and he screamed like his life was
ending. Brian laughed again and looked to his audience for support.
By this point, Jason was totally miserable. His balls were sore, his muscles
were weak and he felt like he wanted to throw up. He couldn’t believe his own
brother was destroying his manhood like this. He tried to turn and ask Brian
for mercy, but his thought was interrupted by a solid karate chop right into
his nuts. He doubled up again and tried to protect his sore balls. Brian just
laughed and asked him "Didn’t you wear your cup big brother?"
Jason was fuming at this point. His younger brother was destroying his balls
in front of everybody, and he couldn’t even defend himself. He was in extreme
pain and there was nothing he could do to stop it. But then he saw his chance;
Brian was standing directly over him, his legs spread and his crotch was too
inviting of a target. Jason rolled onto his back and extended his sneaker-clad
foot straight up into Brian's groin, trying to crush his balls completely.
When his foot struck hard plastic, he immediately realized his mistake.
Brian just laughed at his brother's feeble ball busting attempt. He briefly
pulled down his Gi pants to expose his protective cup and snickered. "Was that
supposed to hurt my nuts Jason?" Brian asked, and delivered a vicious stomp
into Jason's already sore nuts. CRACK went Jason's balls, and he rolled around
on the ground trying to ease the explosive pain. Brian decided to finish his
brother off and approached him, bending down to grab the waistband of Jason's
shorts.
With one quick movement, Brian yanked off Jason's brief running shorts and
exposed his brother's muscular upper thighs and jock clad basket.
"Hmmm...looks like your balls are swelling up there Jason, maybe you should
give them some air" Brian said, and with that, he reached down and ripped
Jason's jock down to his knees. Jason could not even move his legs now, as his
jock bound them together, while his twig and berries flopped around like a
sausage in plain view. Most of the people watching laughed at how pathetic
Jason looked being so helpless and weak.
Jason begged Brian to leave him alone, his voice cracking from his busted
balls and the beating he had taken, but Brian just smiled and told him "Oh,
I'm going to finish this alright big brother." With that, Brian reached down
again and grabbed one of Jason's muscular legs in each of his hands and pulled
them up and apart. Jason knew what was coming, and suddenly the fight went out
of him. “Oh god, Bri, oh god don’t. Don’t hurt my balls Brian. I’m your
brother. Please, stop…noooooo.”
With one quick movement, Brian drove his foot down between Jason's legs and at
the same time pulled up on Jason's legs, forcing his bare foot into his
brother's naked nuts as hard as he could. To Brian, his older brother’s
manhood simply felt like a soft mesh between his powerful foot and his
brother’s hard pelvic bones. Jason had never screamed so loud in all his life
as now, as he felt his family jewels being pulped and mashed from his
brother's ruthless kick.
Brian continued to bust Jason's balls for another minute or so, until he saw
Jason pass out from the excruciating pain. Once Jason was unconscious, Brian
dragged him upright and sat his half-naked body on one of the bleachers. Brian
then asked one of his friends and Gina to hold Jason sitting upright so that
he could finish his brother. Gina and another boy reluctantly held Jason up
while Brian spread his brother’s legs and looked at Jason's loose nuts
spilling out between his legs on the hard wooden seat of the bleacher. Gina
saw Jason’s male parts for the first time then. His circumcised man tool hung
like a sausage under a thick crop of brown pubic hair. And below that were the
two orbs that powered her would-be boyfriend’s manhood. That was to have been
the male tackle that would have taken her virginity tonight, that would have
been inside of her as she took Jason’s virginity.
"OK guys, here comes the grand finale" said Brian, as he rolled Jason's balls
forward and took his aim. With that, Brian lifted his leg and stomped his bare
heel down into Jason's meaty balls and pressed them brutally into the wooden
bleacher, crushing them flat. Jason woke up at the last moment and realized
what was happening, but was powerless to stop it. As Jason looked into his
brother's eyes, he begged him to spare his family jewels, but Brian was
already decided. Gina looked sadly on as Jason lost his manhood to his younger
brother and felt the crushing pain of losing his balls, his male-everything.
Jason felt sick to his stomach and wanted to throw up, but was so humiliated
as each of the boys leaving the gym gave a silent look at his battered balls.
His once proud nuts and cock were devastated, his hanging male tube would
never again become a hard 6 inch pole again, he would never feel the male
pleasure of orgasm or ejaculate virile seed again. And Jason realized his
muscles would begin to atrophy and fade now that the source of his maleness
was destroyed. Brian continued to slap Jason's smashed nuts around and laugh
at his emasculated brother until everyone but Gina had left the gym. Soon,
Brian and Gina left a busted, embarrassed and weak Jason there to mourn his
lost balls.
NOTE: this story is a re-write of an old bb story that has floated around for
years called Sibling Rivalry, the author of which is unknown.
* * * |
Johnny, der junge Sklave, Teil 3 (German Language) | GAY, PENECTOMY, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION, Teenager | Johnny merkt, dass er nicht der einzige ist, der auf SM steht und macht sich auch über seine eigene Zukunft Gedanken... | Als Johnny am nächsten Montag Jeffrey im Bus wieder zu Gesicht bekam sah er,
dass er doch ziemlich geschafft aussah. Kein Wunder, nach all den eigentlich
ungewollten Schlägen. Johnnys Rücken brannte nur noch ein bisschen, außerdem
richtete die Plastikpeitsche keinen richtigen Schaden an. Nachdem Johnny
seinen Freunden von Jeffreys Vorhaben erzählt hatte (was denen ziemlich
gleichgültig zu sein schien), kamen sie wieder mal auf das Thema Piercings zu
sprechen. Barney wollte unbedingt ein Zungenpiercing haben und auch Justin
wollte gerne wieder irgendeins haben, da er vor einiger Zeit seinen Ohrring
herausgenommen hatte. Johnny schlug vor, dass sie am Nachmittag alle in das
Piercingstudio von MA2 gehen könnten, da der garantiert nicht auf das Alter
achten würde. Es war immer blöd, wenn man die Eltern anbetteln oder
Unterschriften fälschen musste. Johnny hatte herausgefunden, dass MA2
eigentlich nur der Piercer in der Innenstadt sein konnte, denn das andere
Piercingstudio kannte er und andere gab es in der Stadt nicht.
Nach der Schule betraten sie also das Piercingstudio. „Tattoo und Piercing C.
Jenkins“ stand dran. Als sie hereinkamen, wurden sie tatsächlich von MA2
begrüßt, oder besser Mr Jenkins, wie er hier wohl hieß. „Ach, wen haben wir
denn da. Ich hoffe, du bist nicht hier, um dich foltern zu lassen, dafür bin
ich hier nicht ausgerüstet, Johnny. Denk dran, hier bist du nicht mein
Sklave.“ – „Schon in Ordnung, wir sind hier, um uns piercen zu lassen.“ gab
Johnny als Antwort. „Ach so, na dann, was hättet ihr denn gern. Ich brauche
keine Unterschriften, aber es wäre gut, wenn ich keine Probleme wegen eurer
Eltern kriegen würde.“ Barney trat vor und fragte nach einem Zungenpiercing.
Kurze Zeit später hatte er eins und lispelte ziemlich: „Mann, geiles Gefühl!“
Dann kam Johnny dran: „Ich hätte gerne einen Ring oben im rechten Ohr.“ Sein
Meister stach es, es sah toll aus, passte so richtig zu Johnnys coolem
Aussehen. „Und ein Bauchnabelpiercing hätte ich auch gerne, das sieht bestimmt
total geil aus.“ Der Piercer lachte: „Naja, ich weiß ja, dass du dich gerne
pieken lässt.“ Johnny bekam dann sein Piercing in den Bauchnabel, es passte
sehr gut zu seiner muskulösen Figur. Schließlich war Travis an der Reihe, er
bekam rechts auch noch einen Ohrring und außerdem links ein
Brustwarzenpiercing. Johnny, der normalerweise seinen Freunden nicht
hinterherguckte, bekam beinahe einen Ständer. Travis, der kleine sportliche,
sexy Typ, sah mit einem Nippelpiercing sowas von geil aus. Dann war Justin an
der Reihe. „Ich wollte eigentlich nur wieder einen Ohrring, aber wenn ich
sehe, was die anderen so haben, will ich eigentlich noch mehr. Ich würde mir
meine Ohren am liebsten stretchen, deswegen hätte ich gerne 2 Ohrringe.
Außerdem fände ich so einen PA cool, wie Johnny hat.“ Jenkins sah Justin
prüfend an. „Du magst es auch gerne etwas härter, wie ich sehe. Warum kommst
du nicht mal mit in die Sklavenschule, wenn du auf so was stehst? Und ich
würde gerne mal jemanden quälen, der eine so schöne dicke Wampe wie du hat.
Ist nicht persönlich gemeint“ –„Naja, ich hab auch schon dran gedacht, mal
mitzukommen das wäre bestimmt cool. Vielleicht nächstes Mal mit Johnny. Und so
ein Bauchnabelpiercing sieht bei mir nicht aus, deshalb hätte ich gern den
PA.“ – „OK, du bekommst ihn, aber ich hoffe auch, dass ich dich mal in der
Sklavenschule sehe.“ Daraufhin stach ihm der Piercer in jedes Ohr einen Ring
und schließlich auch in seinen Penis. Justin schrie dabei, Johnny nahm es ihm
nicht übel, es tat nun mal weh, war es aber auf jeden Fall wert. Danach
bezahlten sie und gingen, alle 4 mit neuen coolen Piercings.
Am Freitag sollte, so hatten sie es zumindest ihren Eltern erzählt, Justin bei
Johnny schlafen. Johnnys Eltern hatten sie erzählt, dass sie bis spätabends
noch zu Barney wollten, so konnten die beiden ungestört lange zur
Sklavenschule gehen. „Sag mal, Justin, willst du das hier jetzt eigentlich
wirklich? Du solltest nichts tun, was du nicht willst.“ – „Mal ausprobieren
schadet ja nicht, ich habe nämlich auch das Gefühl, dass ich mich mit
Schmerzen anfreunden könnte. Als ich deine Mods gesehen habe, da wusste ich,
dass mir sowas auch gefallen würde, auf jeden Fall.“ - „Na dann, es ist deine
Entscheidung. Ich würde dir raten, dich einfach mal umzusehen und ein bisschen
was auszuprobieren.“
Nachdem sie die Sklavenschule betreten hatten stellte Johnny seinen Freund
beim Meister vor. Der wies Justin MA3 zu und wollte, dass er sich umsah. Als
erstes sollten Johnny und Justin aber in den Verstümmelungsraum gehen, der
Meister sprach von etwas sehr geilem. MA2 und MA3 gingen mit ihnen, nachdem
sie sich ganz ausgezogen hatten. Justin schien sich ein bisschen zu genieren,
hier nackt rumzulaufen, sein dicker Bauch und die kleinen Brüste, die er
aufgrund seines Gewichts hatte, waren sicher nichts, auf das er stolz war.
Unter seinem normallangen Penis (mit dem neuen PA) hingen die recht dicken
Eier seines Freundes. Sie gingen dann in den Verstümmelungsraum. Gleich auf
der ersten Liege lag Jeffrey wieder, er war nackt und gefesselt und zitterte
am ganzen Körper, hatte jedoch einen entschlossenen Gesichtsausdruck
aufgelegt. Der MA, der bei ihm stand, sagte: „So, jetzt ist es soweit, wenn du
willst, dass du keinen Sexualtrieb mehr hast, dann bitte.“ – „So, und jetzt
seht genau hin, Sklaven, vielleicht wollt ihr das ja auch mal irgendwann.“
flüsterte MA2. Dann nahm Jeffreys MA eine Burdizzozange, hielt sie an die
linke Seite von Jeffreys Sack und drückte zu. Jeffrey schrie und heulte und
zappelte, während die Zange in seinen Sack biss und 10 Minuten dort drin
verblieb. Die Stelle war jetzt rot und geschwollen. Dasselbe wiederholte der
MA auf der rechten Seite, Jeffreys Schreie waren wirklich markerschütternd.
Als es überstanden war, wurde Jeffrey losgebunden. Er setzte sich auf und
sagte: „So, und jetzt möchte ich nochmal ein paar Peitschenhiebe, danach bin
ich dann hoffentlich geheilt.“ Er wurde dann weggeführt, sein Rücken sah sehr
geschunden aus, einiges davon würde wohl sein Leben lang sichtbar bleiben.
Plötzlich spritzte Justin eine riesige Spermamenge ab, er stöhnte vor
Geilheit, das, was er eben gesehen hatte, musste ihn sehr geil gemacht haben.
Johnny hatte wieder den Boden zu lecken, er fand es geil, Justins Sperma
aufzulecken.
Dann begann die Folter für die beiden Freunde. Johnny bekam wieder das gleiche
Programm wie in der Woche zuvor, vor allem auf extreme Nippelfolter stand er
sehr, aber auch wenn MA2 ihm Nadeln in die Eier stach wichste er riesige
Mengen. Die Peitschenhiebe empfand er auch wieder als sehr geil.
Dann kam Justin an die Reihe. MA3 versuchte verschiedene Techniken, darunter
Auspeitschen, Hodenquetschen und Pieksen mit Nadeln. Justin schien sehr auf
Hodenfolter zu stehen, außerdem schien er es zu genießen, wenn er in den Speck
gepiekst oder seine kleinen Titten geknetet wurden. Schließlich entschied er
sich, hin und wieder mal zu kommen, aber nicht Clubmitglied zu werden. „In
Ordnung“, sagte MA3, „aber dann bekommst du kein Branding und keine Tattoos.
Du solltest dich hin und wieder mal blicken lassen, um Schmerzen zu haben.“
In der Umkleidekabine stand ein junger Mann, er war etwas älter als Johnny und
hatte sich gerade ausgezogen. Er war etwas kleiner als Johnny, aber ebenso
muskulös und braungebrannt, hatte kurze blonde Haare und auf beiden Seiten
Ohrringe. Er drehte sich um, Johnny war fassungslos. „Philipp? Ich dachte, du
würdest nicht mehr hier wohnen, wieso…“ Sein Blick fiel auf Philipps
Intimbereich. Kein Penis und kein Sack und auch kein Haar waren zu sehen,
nichts, nur glatte Haut, außer einem kleinen Pissloch zwischen seinen Beinen
und dem Branding mit der Sklavennummer. Der Penis, der Johnny so oft in Anus
und Mund gesteckt hatte, war weg. „Hi Johnny.“ sagte Philipp erfreut. „Schön,
dich endlich mal wieder zu treffen. Ich hatte eigentlich vor, mal bei dir
vorbeizukommen, hatte aber Angst, dass du wegen meiner Entmannung
überreagierst.“ – „Tu ich nicht, aber, seit wann bist du wieder hier und seit
wann hast du keine Genitalien mehr?“ stotterte Johnny. „Ich hab mich an dem
Abend, bevor ich weggezogen bin, entmannen lassen. Es war mein größter Wunsch,
es war ein geiler Schmerz, wie das Messer durch den Pimmel gegangen ist. Jetzt
bin ich seit 2 Tagen wieder hier, ich hab hier einen Job angenommen. Aber wie
ich sehe bist du auch an SM interessiert und Justin auch.“ - „Ja, sind wir.“
erwiderte Johnny. „Ich bin schon Clubmitglied und auch Justin will sich hin
und wieder etwas foltern lassen. Darf ich mal fühlen?“ fragte Johnny und
zeigte auf Philipps Intimbereich. „Na klar, darfst auch mal lecken.“ erwiderte
Philipp und Johnny und auch Justin strichen über Philipps glatte Haut. Dann
begann Johnny dort zu lecken, Philipp schien das sehr zu erregen, seinem
Stöhnen nach zu urteilen. Justin wichste in der Zwischenzeit schon wieder vor
Geilheit. Dann küssten sich Johnny und Philipp. „Ich habe dich vermisst.“
sagte Philipp „Ich komme am Sonntag bei dir vorbei.“ – „OK, ich warte auf
dich.“ Sie zogen sich weiter an. Plötzlich platzte Justin heraus: „Sag mal
Philipp, wie ist das denn so, wenn man kastriert und entmannt ist? Wie fühlt
man sich da?“ – „Naja, ich finde es geil, so ganz ohne Genitalien und wenn
etwas über den Bereich streicht, dann habe ich immer noch so was wie
Erektionen, zumindest ist es so geil. Und da ich Testosteron nehme, feminiere
ich nicht und bin immer noch ein Mann.“ – „Ach so, na dann.“ – „Ich muss jetzt
los, Johnny, wir sehen uns.“ – „Ja, bis Sonntag dann!“ erwiderte Johnny. Sie
gaben sich einen Abschiedskuss und kurz darauf gingen auch Johnny und Justin
in Richtung Johnnys zu Hause.
„Mann, wie geil, langsam finde ich es wirklich geil, mir vorzustellen,
kastriert zu sein.“ sagte Justin, während sie durch das dunkle Dorf nach Hause
gingen. „Im Ernst?“ fragte Johnny. „Ja, auf jeden Fall, ich überlege mir, ob
ich es nicht da machen soll. Meinen Pimmel will ich behalten, aber ich will
kein Testosteron kriegen. Und dann bin ich ein kastrierter, dicker Junge.
Mann, das wäre bestimmt geil! Was ist mit dir?“ Johnny zögerte, dann sagte er:
„Naja, vorgestellt hab ich mir das schon, kastriert zu sein. Vielleicht in
einigen Monaten, ich muss mir das gut überlegen. Aber Philipp, ich finde es so
geil, wie der jetzt aussieht und so cool, dass der wieder da ist. Bin
gespannt, wie der Sex mit ihm ist, jetzt, wo er entmannt ist.“ Und dann waren
sie zu Hause und gingen auch sofort ins Bett. Johnny freute sich riesig auf
Philipps Besuch am Sonntag, er fand es so geil, dass er sich Philipps leeren
Intimbereich mal näher ansehen konnte.
Ende Teil 3
Die Geschichte wird weitergehen…
Würde mich wieder über Kritik und Meinungen freuen!
* * * |
Bob's Story, Chapter 4 | STRAIGHT, WARNING, TESTICLES | Sometimes the reality of cuckolding can be more intense than the fantasy itself. | ` `
BOB'S STORY
Chapter 4
Our lives continued in that manner for several weeks. The two lovers behaved
exactly as if they were on a honeymoon, which in many respects is probably a
pretty accurate description of their mindset. They seemed to be fascinated
with each other, and as most newlyweds do, spent endless hours exploring each
other's bodies. In the first two weeks following Carol's trip to Mark's
bedroom, they fucked in every room in our home, sometimes several times. I was
usually in attendance, and it seemed I never tired of watching them make love,
and I especially never tired of what was required when the act had been
completed. I had truly found my destiny, and it was to live as my wife's cum
slave. There was nothing more exciting to me than being "required" to lick and
suck her delicious pussy after they had fucked, and the taste, the smell, and
the texture of that part of her body quickly became my obsession. In short, it
was the only way I was allowed to give pleasure to her, and I loved doing it.
At night I would lie in my lonely bed, living for the moment when Carol would
call out my name. I would rush to their bedside, quickly falling to my knees
there. She would turn sideways in the bed, place her legs over my shoulders,
and say, "Eat it." Of course, I didn't need her command in order to do that. I
loved providing that service, and would have begged to be allowed to do it. I
seemed to have no greater mission in life than to lick and suck my wife's
freshly-fucked pussy, and would have gladly done it every waking moment if
that were possible.
The only sexual relief I was allowed was masturbation. Even given my age, I
seemed to need to cum at least twice a day, and even though my crotch ached
from overwork, I couldn't stop my hand from drifting down my body as I lay
alone in my bed.
I loved to provide every service I could to the lovers, and when the alarm
clock rang in the morning, I would hurry to the kitchen to prepare their
morning coffee, along with any special treat I could think of to serve them. I
enjoyed seeing them lying in their bed as I brought the tray to their room,
especially the many occasions when they would already be awake. Mark seemed to
especially like what he called "morners," by which he meant intercourse before
they got out of bed in the morning. Sometimes they would allow me to watch as
they engaged in their first lovemaking of the day, and then as they drank
their coffee and ate the sweet rolls I had brought to them, Carol would allow
me to suck my breakfast from her stretched, dripping-wet vagina.
The only real change in our routine came about two months after the beginning
of their relationship. Mark had been required to attend a statewide meeting of
veterinarians, and was away from home for two nights. Carol said she didn't
want to sleep alone, and had told me I could return to what had once been my
bed. My imagination ran wild until she brought me back to reality by saying,
"Of course, you won't be able to undress. Mark doesn't want you in bed with me
when you're naked. I agree, since it'd probably just lead to more frustration
than you already have."
I was devastated to learn that I would have to lie next to her naked body, but
would have to keep all my clothes on. Even though I knew what I would
experience then would be very hard to take, just the chance to be near her was
enough to make me look forward to that night with more anticipation that I
would have thought possible.
She allowed me to bathe her before bedtime, and the stimulation of touching
her delicate skin, of bathing her beautiful breasts, and finally of soaping
and then rinsing her exquisite crotch, was almost too much to bear. By the
time I had toweled her dry, and we were lying side by side in bed, I was
literally out of my head with lust.
Carol had left her bedside lamp on, and as she lay on her back, I simply could
not drag my eyes from the sight of her naked breasts, and the entrancing
curves of her lovely body. In the lamplight, I could see her nipples were
erect, and I prayed with all my might that indicated she was sexually
interested in me, and before much longer I would once again be allowed to give
her pleasure.
I very slowly reached out one hand to lightly touch her breast, and was
rewarded with an immediate slap as my hand was knocked away. She said sharply
to me, "Don't touch me! Mark wouldn't allow that! If you can't keep your hands
to yourself, you'll have to sleep on the floor. Now behave yourself."
I was desperate to be allowed to remain lying beside her, and apologized over
and over for what I'd done. She seemed to at last forgive me, and said, "I
know this has been very hard for you, honey, but it's what you said you wanted
to happen. You told me you wanted me to fuck Mark, and now you'll just have to
live with the consequences." She paused for several seconds then, as if
gathering her thoughts, before asking, "Do you still love me?"
That simple question shocked me more than anything she'd said to me for many
months, if not years. My love for her was such an all-encompassing thing, so
overpowering, so very much a part of my being, that I couldn't believe she'd
ever question it. I told her over and over that she was the most important
thing in the whole world, that I loved her with all my heart and soul, that I
would do anything for her, and that I thought she was the most wonderful
person that ever had existed.
She seemed to forgive me for my transgression, and then looked deep into my
eyes while her hands began to caress her breasts. She whispered, "Would you
like to watch while I play with myself?"
It was almost more than I could do to force my aching throat to say, "Please."
She smiled in a satisfied manner, then began to slowly move one hand down her
body, while the other continued to fondle, pinch, and pull her erect nipples.
When her questing hand reached her pubic hair, she sighed and stretched, then
parted her legs.
She whispered, "Get down between my legs so you can see better. I want you to
see how excited I get when I think of Mark doing this to me. If you touch me,
I'll make you get out of his bed."
I hurried to do her bidding, and soon my eyes were locked on the sight of her
fingers slowly sliding up and down her slit. After several minutes of doing
that, she brought down her other hand and spread her pussy wide open to my
view, while her other fingers continued to rub the tender flesh she had
exposed there.
She asked, "Do you like to look at my pussy?" It was almost more than I could
do to answer her, but was finally able to croak out my impassioned, "Yes! It's
the most beautiful thing in the whole world."
She laughed softly as I said that, then as she continued to pleasure herself,
asked, "Would you like to lick and suck it? Do you want to taste it? Is that
what you want to do?"
Again I forced my throat to respond, and gasped out, "God, yes! Please let me
do that. I want that more than anything else in the whole world. Please!"
She laughed again, saying, "Well, you can't. Mark said you are not to touch me
unless he's in the room with us. Since he's the one who now owns my body, then
his wish is my command. It's what you said you wanted, and now you have it. I
guess you'll just have to watch, and know that if you were a real man, you
could still fuck me and eat me."
My frustration at that moment was so great that I actually cried. That seemed
to drive her to even greater efforts, and her fingers moved faster and faster
as they rubbed her slit and her ever-growing clitoris. After what seemed like
an eternity, she moaned, and actually began to pinch and pull her engorged bud
of flesh. Her hips raised from the bed, as if offering herself to me, and it
was almost more than I could do to stop myself from burying my face in her
crotch. The sense of frustration I felt at that time is still, in my memory,
the greatest I've ever experienced, and I was sure it would drive me out of my
mind.
After what seemed an eternity to me, her hips slowly settled to the sheet, and
her breathing evened. She said, "Come up here beside me now. That's all you
get to see."
With a reluctance that was almost too great to overcome, I obeyed her, and
soon was once again lying beside her supremely beautiful, naked body. After a
silence that seemed to stretch forever, she said softly, "I'm sorry I did that
to you, honey. I don't know what it is that makes me do things like that. I
just can't help myself. There's just this urge to make you suffer, to
humiliate you, and I can't resist it. I'm sure you must think I'm a bad
person, and sometimes I think the same thing about myself. I'm sorry."
The shock that produced in my brain caused me to blurt out, "Don't ever think
such things! You're the best person in the world, and I love you with all my
heart. You only do things like that because I drove you to it. Don't ever
think you're a bad person."
She seemed to accept that, and lay quietly for awhile. Finally she said
softly, almost as if to herself, "You wouldn't think I was so wonderful if you
knew some of the thoughts I have. You'd think I was horrible, and wouldn't
want anything to do with me."
Again I protested, declaring my love for her over and over. I said, "Nothing
about you could ever be horrible. No matter what it is, I'd love you even more
than ever."
After another pause, she said again, "No. If you knew what I think about doing
to you, you'd hate me. Any man would. If you knew, you'd leave me and never
come back."
That produced yet another round of declarations of love, ending with me
saying, "Just tell me what you want to do to me, or what you want me to do for
you. I'll do anything. Surely you know that by now. Please, tell me."
She seemed to be considering whether or not to be candid, and must have
finally arrived at the decision to do so. She began her tale, saying quietly,
"I can't stop myself from having fantasies about doing terrible things to you.
I can't explain why, but when you're standing by the bed watching us make
love, or kneeling there sucking his cum out of me, I have an almost
overwhelming urge to punish you, to hurt you as much as possible. The things I
want to do to you make your first whipping look like child's play."
"One fantasy that I've been having every night for more than a week is the
worst yet. It starts with the three of us moving to a house way out in the
country, miles from town. The nearest neighbor is five miles from our house,
and we're surrounded by lots of big trees, so we have complete privacy. You're
not allowed to wear clothes, and anytime we see you with a hardon, we whip it
with riding crops we carry with us all the time."
"I've been trying to get you to do something for me for a long time, but you
refuse to do it. Finally I get very angry with you, and Mark and I take you
outside, to the front yard. There's a big tree standing there, and I order you
to stand under one of its limbs that's growing straight out from the trunk,
about ten feet above the ground."
"I order you to hold your arms straight out in front of you, with your hands
together, then tie a rope around your wrists. Mark throws the end of the rope
over the limb, then pulls on it to lift you off the ground. We watch you
slowly swinging there, trying to touch the ground with your toes. As you feel
your shoulders being pulled from their sockets, you start whimpering in pain,
and we laugh at you."
"I tell Mark to tie the rope to the tree trunk, then to take off his belt and
show it to you. It's made of heavy leather, about 2" wide. The tongue has a
metal tip on it, and there are lots of sharp metal studs running up and down
its entire length. I tell you that we're going to teach you a lesson about
what happens when you refuse to do something I ask of you, and when you
realize what's about to happen, you begin to whimper even more."
"We walk around behind you, and I say, 'Just remember this the next time you
think you can refuse a simple request I make of you. We're going to teach you
a lesson you'll never forget.' I then tell Mark to whip your ass as hard as he
can, and not to stop until I tell him to do so."
"He raises the belt high above his head, then brings it down against your butt
with all his strength. Almost before you can cry out, a bright-red welt is
raised, and everywhere one of the studs broke your skin, small droplets of
blood appear. Again he strikes your stretched butt with every bit of force he
can muster, and again you cry out in pain. Over and over he whips you, each
stroke making you scream louder than the one before, and leaving a fresh welt
overlapping the others. Soon your blood is dripping onto the ground beneath
your body, which is jumping wildly as you try to avoid the belt."
"Finally I tell him to stop, and we stand there laughing as you continue to
cry and whimper, still jerking wildly in an attempt to escape the agonizing
pain Mark has given you. After we quiet down, we walk around in front of you,
and I see your tiny little wee-wee standing up as hard as possible, trying to
convince me it's a real penis, and not just something that should be hanging
off a child."
"I order you to spread your legs and hold them there, saying that you still
haven't been punished enough. You begin sobbing as you realize what is going
to happen next, but I'm very proud of you when that doesn't stop you from
obeying me. Soon you're holding your legs out to the sides as far as you can
get them, trying to prepare yourself for what is about to be done to you."
"I tell Mark to whip your crotch, but to not be as tender as he was with your
ass. He laughs, then again raises his belt high above his head. It's deathly
still then, as you're too frozen with fear to even whimper. In the stillness,
we all hear the sound of the studded leather as it whistles through the air.
The scream you make when the metal tip strikes your worthless little dick is
almost enough to make me cum right there, and I try to concentrate on not
climaxing, because I don't want to miss even a single second of your
whipping."
"Mark's second stroke comes up from the ground, and the sharp studs dig into
your little peanuts while the metal tip almost disappears into your asshole.
Your screams are continuous now, and they seem to drive Mark to greater
efforts to punish your weakness. Over and over he brings the belt crashing
down on your little weenie, or snaking upwards to tear into your balls. After
several strokes have landed there, I see that your sac has been peeled away,
and your little nuts are hanging down by their cords. Mark begins to
concentrate on them even more, and first one, and then the other is torn free
by the force of his blows."
"He then focuses on what remains of your penis, and I revel in the sounds of
the agonized screams tearing from your throat. Finally the sound stops
abruptly, and as I look at your face, I realize you've passed out. I look down
just in time to see your legs slowly closing, and there's nothing left of your
cock and balls but a few bloody shreds of skin."
She took a few ragged breaths then, trying to steady herself, before
concluding, "Now you know what I mean about being a horrible person. No wife
could ever think of doing such horrible, disgusting things to her husband.
Surely you hate me now, don't you?"
It was almost impossible for me to speak, but after several attempts I at last
managed to say, "I love you even more now than I did before you told me your
fantasy. How could you even begin to think I wouldn't love you? I think you're
the most wonderful person in the whole world. Just because you want to punish
me for not being a real man doesn't mean you're a bad person. I deserve
anything you want to do to me, and when you do it, it'll just make me love you
all the more."
She wiped her eyes and cleared her throat before saying softly, "Thank you,
honey. Your love means the world to me. I hope you know, no matter what I may
do to you someday, that I'll always love you."
I assured her that I'd never doubt her love for me, and then asked in a timid
voice, "Do you love Mark?" That question had been foremost in my thoughts for
many days, but I'd never before been able to ask it. Now that I had, I
realized the answer was very important to me.
She replied simply, "Of course I love him. I love both of you with all my
heart. It's just that I think of you in different ways, I guess. The English
language simply doesn't have the right words to describe our relationships,
but I guess the closest I can come is to say you're my 'house husband,' and
he's my 'sexual husband.' Does that make any sense at all?"
I told her I was sure I knew what she meant by those terms, and it was
perfectly understandable that she would assign those terms to us. He gave her
so much pleasure, so much satisfaction, in terms of lovemaking, that she
couldn't help but think of him in anything but sexual ways. I, on the other
hand, was the one who was there for her in all other ways, the "keeper of the
house," so to speak.
She thanked me for understanding, then asked a question that literally took my
breath away. She asked, "Honey, would you like to cum now?"
As soon as I heard those words, I knew that I wanted to do that with every
fiber of my being. The arousal I'd experienced when bathing her lovely body,
combined with watching her masturbate and the supremely exciting story she'd
just told me, had my cock hard as a rock, and I could feel the wetness leaking
from it in my pants. The only word I was able to force from my throat was a
simple, "Please."
That was enough answer for her, apparently. She said to me, "Unzip your pants
and take out your little thing. I don't want to have to touch it any more than
necessary."
I hurried to obey, and soon my hardon was bobbing in the air, its head
glistening with the pre-cum that had been spread over it while in my pants.
Carol told me to raise my feet in the air, and even though that completely
mystified me, I did as she asked. She then grabbed both my ankles and pulled
my feet over my head, at the same time spreading my knees. I began to
understand what she had in mind as I saw my erection pointing at my face, and
that understanding just added to my already raging lust.
She said, "Mark can get the whole head in his mouth, and says that any man
with a normal-size cock can suck himself. I see your little pecker is still
about four inches away, but maybe I can aim your cum where it needs to go. Now
open your mouth and keep it that way. I don't want you getting cum stains in
Mark's bed."
She then placed one hand on my penis and began to quickly stroke it. Given my
state of arousal, it took no more than half a dozen pumps before my semen
began to spurt, and she guided it as well as she could into my wide-open
mouth. The last spurt had fallen on my shirt, and after she'd lowered my legs
to the bed once again, she told me to wipe it up with my fingers and eat it
also.
As soon as she saw I had cleaned up any mess, she turned off the lamp and
settled into place on her stomach. She asked in a sleepy voice, "Did that
taste as good as Mark's cum?" I already knew the answer to that question,
because I'd been eating my own cum for several weeks by that time, in an
attempt to satisfy my appetite for the stuff, which had grown to be an
addiction. I replied, "What you feed me is much better. Your pussy juice is so
special that nothing can compare to it."
She said, "I thought you'd say that. I read a magazine article once that said
men who eat their wive's pussies for more than three months become addicted to
the taste and smell. It said that men who lose their wives after having eaten
them on a regular basis have a much harder time of adjusting to the loss than
men who don't eat pussy. I'm sure the same thing is true for you, too."
I had no doubt of it, and told her so. I could tell she was falling asleep
then, and hurried to ask one last question, the one that was quickly becoming
increasingly important to me. I asked, "In your fantasy, you punished me
because I refused to do something for you. What was it that I wouldn't do?"
She mumbled sleepily, "Maybe I'll tell you someday, if you're a good boy. Now
go to sleep. Good night." That was the last I heard from her that night, and
her regular breathing soon told me she was fast asleep.
To be continued . . .
* * * |
Sander's Story - Part 9 | GAY, NULLIFICATION, MINOR | Sander's Story - Part 10 by curious_guy (with Timothy's permission). I couldn't have written this if Timothy had not started the story with some great characters and situations. I have gotten some help from StefanIsMe and yashmakkk with the story. Thank you Stefan and yashmakkk.Part nine starts up where part eight ends. If you have not read the previous parts, you should. | ` `
"There's almost no chance I will get to keep my boy parts, is there?" I asked.
"No, I'm afraid not," Matti answered.
I started to cry. Matti looked like he was about to cry too. He said, "Please
don't cry Sander, It'll be ok. I'll still love you if you're nullified. Chris
and I will help you get through it."
"You love me?" I said in surprise.
"Of course I do and I think Chris does too. You are a wonderful, intelligent,
caring, beautiful boy. I fell in love with you almost as soon as I met you,"
Matti said. Then he kissed the end of my nose and wiped the tears off my face.
He continued, "I was a slave for five years. I met a lot of boys who were
nullified. Almost all of them were upset at first but after a few weeks almost
all of them got over it. After a few months most of them said that they were
glad they were desexed."
"Chris says that he's glad he was desexed but I don't see how he could be.
"You said yesterday that almost all owners prefer nullos. Why is that? Why
can't they leave us complete? My dick and balls wouldn't get in the way of an
owner mounting me. You were complete and Chris says that you were one of the
most popular slaves ever.
"It's not fair. I like my dick and balls, especially my dick. I like stroking
it, especially when you make love to me. I like to pee standing up, especially
when I'm hiking. If they nullify me and I need to pee when I'm hiking I'll
have to pull down my pants and underpants and squat to pee. That would be real
inconvenient and real embarrassing if other boys see me.
"If I'm nullified, I'll either have to put up with boys staring at me in the
showers and whispering about me in the halls or go to a special boarding
school for ex-slaves and not be with my friends and my father very much," I
said. I almost started to cry again.
Matti answered, "It's partially tradition but I think the main reason is that
if you don't have a dick, the only way you can have sex is for them to mount
you and you can never mount them. Also many of them think that nullos are
better looking than boys with dicks and balls."
"If they like the way it looks so much, why don't they get themselves
nullified?" I asked.
Matti said, "They like the way it looks on their sex partner not on them just
like many men like women with big breasts but wouldn't want to have big
breasts."
Later that day I said, "We both like having Chris around and he likes being
around us. Can he move in with us?"
Matti replied, "I don't see why not." He got on his computer for a few minutes
and then picked up the phone and said, "slave Chris3." He paused for a few
seconds and continued, "Hello Chris. The computer says that you don't have an
appointment until seven. Would you like to come eat with Sander and me? We
have something we want to ask you." He paused for a few seconds and said,
"I'll tell you when you get here."
Chris arrived in just a few minutes. He was a little out of breath so I think
he ran here. He said, "What did you want to ask me?"
Matti replied, "Do you want to move in here with Chris and me?"
Chris said, "I'd love to move in with you guys."
Matti said, "I'll send Ben an email asking if it's ok. What do you two want
for dinner?"
Chris said, "Fish and Chips." I remembered having and liking it so I asked for
it too.
Matti said, "You two scalawags should have some real vegetables. They're good
for you."
We both said, "Yes Mom," at the same time and we both laughed. Matti chuckled
a little too. Then I said, "What's a scalawag?"
Matti said, "I don't know but my grandfather always called me one when I
didn't eat my vegetables."
Chris went over to the phone, pressed a button and said, "Dictionary,
scalawag."
The computer voice said, "noun 1. a scamp, a rascal. 2. U.S. History a native
white Southerner who collaborated with the occupying forces during
Reconstruction, often for personal gain. 1840 to 1850, American, origin
uncertain."
To please Matti we both ordered some fried zucchini. After we ate, Matti got a
reply to his email. It was ok. Chris could move in. Matti got on his computer
and ordered a second small desk to be delivered to our room. Then he
programmed the door so that Chris could come in without one of us letting him
in. Chris said, "I wish the three of us could live together for the rest of
our lives."
Matti said, "Me too."
I said, "Me three."
After we ate, we sat around talking until Chris' collar said, "Chris3, you
have an appointment in half an hour in room g156."
Chris said, "Gotta go. I'll be back." He said the last in a funny accent.
I said, "Why did you say 'I'll be back' so funny?"
He said, "It's from some really old movies I like by a guy named
Schwarzenegger. You should watch some of his movies."
After Chris left, Matti and I watched one of Schwarzenegger's movies called
"The Terminator." It was pretty good and the way he said "I'll be back" was
just like Chris said it.
The next day I helped Chris move his stuff into our room. He didn't have much,
just a beat up old computer, some sandals that he said he never wore because
his feet had gotten real tough from walking barefoot, a few sports trophies, a
shell collection, several kites and some art supplies.
After Chris moved in we were lying on the bed looking at his shell collection,
Matti had gone out. I said, "Can I ask you something?"
He said, "Sure."
I said, "You seem to really like it when someone strokes or licks your crotch
but how can you like it? You don't have anything there anymore."
Chris said, "You mean my nullo place. That's what we nullos call the place
where our dick and balls used to be. After I was nullified, I got a lot more
sensitive there. It's almost as sensitive as my dick was. I often have an
orgasm just from someone stroking or licking me there especially if it's
someone I love like Matti or Peter."
"Do you think I'll get more sensitive if I'm nullified?" I asked.
"I think it happens to all nullos so it should happen to you." Chris answered
as he started to stroke my dick which had gotten stiff again. "Would you like
to mount me while you still have a dick?" He asked.
I thought about it for a moment and said, "Only if you really want to have me
mount you. I don't want to do it if you're offering just to make me feel
better 'cause I'm probably gunna be nullified soon."
"I wouldn't feel sorry for you for that. It's the best thing that could happen
to you. It's the best thing that ever happened to me." I didn't think it would
be the best thing that could happen to me but I didn't say anything to Chris.
"I really do want you to mount me," he continued.
"But why would you want to have sex with me? You have sex with clients eight
times a week."
"'Cause I love ya, you silly goose and sex with someone you love is lots
better than sex with a client, " he said and then he kissed me on the mouth.
It felt really good. I think I was starting to fall in love with Chris.
"You love me?" I said a little surprised even though Matti had said that he
thought Chris loved me. After years of my father rarely saying that he loved
me, and almost never acting like he loved me I found it hard to believe that
anyone could love me.
"Of course I do. You're a really nice guy. You're beautiful and you have Mojo,
maybe more than Matti does."
Chris and I had sex. It was great. We both enjoyed it a lot.
Later when Matti and I were alone I said, "Chris and I had sex." I thought he
might be mad or jealous but I had to tell him because I loved him too much to
keep secrets from him.
Matti said, "That's good. Chris is a great guy. You are a great guy. I hope
both of you enjoyed it. You both deserve as much pleasure as you can get."
"You're not mad?" I asked.
"Of course not. You and Chris can have sex whenever you want to. I love both
of you and I want both of you to be happy." After the next time Matti made
love to me as part of my training he said, "I want you to mount me. It's been
a long time since someone I loved made love to me."
I said, "I love you too. I'll be glad to make love to you." It was even better
than making love to Chris but it wasn't as good as having Matti make love to
me. After we finished making love I said, "If you want to make love to Chris,
it's ok with me. I just don't want to watch or hear about it."
On Monday a package arrived from my dad. I opened it, took out Mr. Bear,
hugged him and put him on the bed with Garfield. I put my computer on my desk
and plugged it into the power.
When Chris saw my computer, he said, "I thought you said your dad really
needed money. You have a really nice computer. How did he afford it?"
"He did some technical writing for the company that makes these and they gave
him two of them, one for him and one for me." I replied. I wished I had
another one I could give to Chris because his computer was so old and beat up.
I got out my portable music player and asked Chris, "Can I wear a belt to put
this on?"
He said, "No, but you can wear it on the back of your collar. You'll probably
want to tie the headphone cord up with a rubber band so that it doesn't hang
down too far. There's probably some in your desk."
I looked in my desk for the first time and I found a whole bunch of stuff.
There were several kinds of art paper, a big box of crayons, colored pencils,
felt pens, water colors, brushes, charcoal, drawing pencils, modeling clay,
erasers, paper clips, rubber bands and other neat stuff.
I asked, "Did somebody leave his stuff here? Should I take it to lost-and-
found?"
Chris said, "No. That's yours, it's the standard stuff Ben gives to all his
new slaves."
I took a rubber band out of the bag I found and Chris helped me tie up the
extra headphone cord with it. Since I didn't see a portable music player when
Chris and I moved his stuff, I said, "You can borrow this anytime you want
to."
He said, "Thanks. You can borrow one of my kites whenever you want."
I took the small case full of memory crystals that held my books, comic books,
music and movies out of the box from Dad and put it on my desk too. I put my
sandals in the closet, put my four yo-yos in the desk and held up my jock
strap and asked Matti, "Where should I put this?"
Matti said, "The bottom drawer of the dresser is empty. You can put it there.
There's a soccer game tomorrow. Now that you have your supporter and cup you
can play if you want to. Does it have an ID chip in it so that the laundry
robots will know where to return it?"
"Yes we used a laundry service so Dad put them in all my clothes," I replied.
Chris said, "You didn't have to wait for your jock strap to come from your
dad. There are thousands of them in the equipment room that were donated by
kids who don't need 'em anymore. My old jock strap is there. I never got a
chance to use it on the island. You'll probably be donating yours soon."
While Chris was talking, I folded the now empty box my dad sent me and put it
in the recycle bin.
Then Matti said, "I'm glad you're so neat. A lot of boys are kind of messy."
He looked at Chris so I think Chris was one of the messy boys but when Chris
brought his stuff over, he put it away neatly.
I said, "Dad and I have a really small apartment. We have to be neat."
Matti said, "I'm glad your computer has arrived because now we can arrange
your school lessons."
"You mean I have to go to school while I'm a slave?" I exclaimed.
"Of course you do. All slaves are here for at least one year. Many of us are
here longer than that. We can't fall years behind in our schooling. Don't
worry, the teachers are really good and the classes are very flexible. I liked
the school here better than I did at home. I am going to school here. I
haven't finished high school yet," Matti replied.
Chris said, "I like the school here better too. We only have classes one or
two days a week mostly for lectures, oral reports and PE. They like us to
exercise a lot so that we stay skinny and muscular 'cause most clients like us
that way. We do most of our lessons on our computers.
"Most of the teachers are nullo former slaves. They're really nice. I might
become a teacher here after I finish college."
Later Matti had a guy from the island's computer department come over. He
checked my computer and found one spyware program. I was embarrassed but he
said that he usually found a few viruses and several spyware programs. Then he
setup my computer and the island's network so that I could access the network
wirelessly almost anywhere on the island.
I wrote an email to Dad saying: "Thanks for sending my stuff. I know you don't
care but I still have my boy parts." I stared at the email for a few minutes
and then I erased the last sentence and sent it.
The next day I went to school for the first time on the island. It was really
strange going to school naked. I used to have dreams about going to school
naked when I was worried about something but this was the first time I really
did it.
When I got to the room, the teacher said, "Hello Sander. It is nice to have
you in my class. I am Mr. Warren.
"Class this is Sander. Now everyone stand up and say hello to Sander." When
they stood up, I saw two eunuchs with tiny dicks and the rest were nullos
including Randal who looked a lot better. His crotch wasn't nearly as red and
sore looking.
Looking at all those nullos and eunuchs gave me a stiffy. I was real
embarrassed and then it got worse when one nullo in the back of the room
started chanting, "Sander's got a boner. Sander's got . . ."
Mr. Warren interrupted him by saying angrily, "Henry, you know better than
that. Come up here right now and apologize to Sander."
Henry came up to the front of the room and said, "I'm sorry Sander." I could
tell he wasn't really sorry.
While Henry was apologizing, Mr. Warren took something out of his desk. It was
a dog leash with a small padlock on it. He locked it onto Henry's collar. He
said, "Class sit down. Sander you can sit with Chris.
"James, come up here. You are going to take Henry to the principal." James was
the biggest nullo in the class. Mr. Warren handed James the end of the leash
and said to Henry, "Since the last time I told you to go to the principal, you
didn't go, this time James will make sure you go. Mr. Blish, Mr. Toeber and I
will discuss your punishment at recess. I will suggest two weeks with no TV,
sports or recreation."
Henry squawked, "Two weeks!"
Mr. Warren said, "Do you want to make it three?"
Henry said sullenly, "No sir."
Mr. Warren said, "Take him to the principal now and make sure he gets there.
Tell Mr. Blish what he did."
James said, "Yes sir," and they both left.
I was real glad to sit beside Chris where the desk would hide it if I got
another stiffy. For a few seconds after Henry started chanting, I almost
wished I had done what Chris had suggested and gone to the ceremony and gotten
myself nullified.
When I sat down Chris said quietly, "Now you see why I didn't like having
Henry as a roommate."
When James came back, Mr. Warren said, "Did you get Henry to the principal's
office ok?"
James said, "Yes and Mr. Blish was real mad."
"You mean he was really angry," Mr. Warren corrected him.
"Yeah, right, he was really angry," James said.
Mr. Warren said, "Thank you for your help. I will ask your owner to give you a
bonus for helping me." James looked pleased.
Later at recess Randal said, "I was introduced to the class yesterday. If I
had a cock then, it would have gotten hard just like yours did.
"You should have yourself nullified. It's great. I love the way it feels and
looks." He stroked himself where his boy parts used to be and continued, "If
you were nullified, you would feel and look great and you would never have
another embarrassing boner. I wish I had been nullified when I was eight like
some of the guys here."
I said, "No thanks. I will keep my dick as long as I can. How do you like
being a slave so far?"
Randal replied, "I like it except I don't like my new roommate."
Chris said, "Let me guess, your new roommate is Henry, right?"
"How did you know?"
"I knew 'cause he was my roommate until two days ago when I moved in with
Sander and Matti. I didn't like him either."
"I don't suppose I could move in with you guys?" Randal asked.
"It's kinda crowded with the three of us in a two-person room already. Maybe
if you asked Ben, he would let you switch. Nobody should have Henry as a
roommate." Chris said.
Later I asked Chris, "Why do the two eunuchs have such tiny dicks?"
Chris replied, "Their owner, Mr. Caruthers, specializes in slaves with tiny
dicks 'cause some clients like 'em that way. He buys boys with small dicks,
castrates them right away and doesn't give them any testosterone so that their
dicks shrink as much as possible. He also gives them drugs to shrink their
dicks for the first few months. Those two were castrated almost two years ago
so their dicks have shrunk quite a bit. Their dicks are still big enough for
them to pee standing up which is all they need them for."
"Can't they jack off?" I asked.
Chris said, "No. Without any testosterone their dicks don't get nearly hard
enough for them to jack off."
"What about after their contract is over? Will they be able to take
testosterone and be able to jack off?" I asked.
"If they still had their dicks, they could." Chris replied.
"Why wouldn't they still have their dicks?" I asked.
"Because Mr. Caruthers sells all his slaves to someone who likes to cut off
boys' dicks, like Ben, just before the end of their last contract and the new
owner cuts 'em off. Mr. Caruthers makes lots more money that way."
"That's terrible," I said.
"Why? They'll be better off without dicks. They'll look better and if they had
dicks they would probably take lots of testosterone and be like that client
who humped Timmy on the beach. What's terrible is making them wait until the
end of their last contract to remove their dicks and making them go through
two ceremonies. I think all slaves should be fixed at the first ceremony after
they're bought."
"Even me?" I asked.
"Even you. If you had been fixed at the first ceremony you would have been
able to stop worrying about it and you wouldn't have gotten a boner when you
were introduced to the class today. That must have been really embarrassing."
"It was but I'm still glad I wasn't nullified," I replied.
After recess Mr. Warren announced, "Henry's punishment will be two weeks of no
TV, sports or recreation and 20 hours of community service. Let this be a
warning to the rest of you. I will not tolerate that kind of behavior. The
next time someone gets an erection I expect none of you to say anything about
it and I don't want any pointing or staring either."
Then he looked at Henry and said, "The next time you do something like this
your punishment will be four weeks of no TV, sports or recreation and 40 hours
of community service."
I raised my hand. When Mr. Warren called on me, I asked, "What's community
service?"
Mr. Warren said, "Henry will have to clean up the beaches and paths on the
island and do other work that the robots are not good at. He will have a
flying eye robot watching him to make sure he does the work."
After classes Chris and I played soccer on the same team. I wanted Matti to
play but he said that he was too old to play with us and that trainers weren't
supposed to play sports with the slaves except for a few special trainers
versus slaves games held each year.
I was the only one playing who needed a jock strap. Our team lost but we had
fun anyway. When the game was over, I wanted to keep my jock strap on but
Chris told me I had to take it off so I took it off and my boy parts did feel
a lot cooler. I said, "Let's go to our room to put this away and then go to
the beach to cool off."
"That's a good plan," Chris replied.
When we were walking to our room, we saw a robot coming out of a room. Chris
said, "That's a housekeeping robot. You can give it your jockstrap and say,
'Laundry.' It'll take it to the laundry with the dirty sheets and in a few
hours a robot will bring it to our room clean. We can go straight to the
beach." It sounded good to me so that's what I did.
After we had cooled off for a while Chris said, "Let's go to the store. I want
to buy something."
"You got spending money? How do you carry it? You don't have any pockets," I
said.
"Every new slave gets forty credits in his account at the store when he signs
his contract. He gets twenty credits before Christmas so he can buy presents
and ten credits on his birthday.
"When you earn a bonus for doing a good job most of it goes into your trust
fund but a little bit goes into your store account. When a client gives you a
tip, half of it, up to 25 credits, goes into your store account. The rest goes
into your trust account.
You can also earn store credit by cleaning the beach and stuff if they don't
have enough slaves doing it as punishment. With Henry here, there isn't much
chance to earn credits that way.
"I don't have to carry anything. The store robot just scans my collar."
"What are you gunna get?" I asked.
"A new computer. When I saw your computer, I realized that mine is just too
old and clunky. I have enough store credit to get one just like yours." Chris
answered.
Chris bought a computer just like mine except his was green instead of blue so
that we wouldn't get them mixed up.
While we were at the store, I bought a memory crystal and had some new comic
books and the new "Interstellar Stowaway" book loaded onto it. I just love the
stories about the boy who hid on the first interstellar ram ship even though
Dad says they aren't very realistic.
While my memory crystal was being filled with the things I wanted I said, "I
wish I had a pocket to carry the crystal in. I would hate to drop it and lose
it. They are so small and transparent they can be hard to find."
Chris said, "You can buy a small bag that hooks to your collar. Lots of kids
use them to carry small toys and memory crystals. I use a bigger one when I
collect sea shells."
I bought a small green collar bag and put my now filled memory crystal in it.
The next morning Chris and I didn't have classes so I asked Chris if he wanted
to go spy on the compound or go to the waterfall again. He said, "No. I want
to go horseback riding."
I said, "They have horseback riding here?"
He answered, "Sure. They have just about everything here, archery, surfing,
roller blading, windsurfing, water skiing, ocean kayaking, snorkeling, scuba
diving, dancing, but not with girls, laser tag, paint ball, go carts, ocean
fishing and lake fishing, canoeing on the lake, bicycling and probably other
things I've forgotten. They used to have hang gliding but too many slaves got
hurt so now it's clients only. About the only thing they never had here is
snow skiing 'cause it's too warm here."
The horseback riding was fun. I had never done it before. They had lambskin
pads on the saddles so they wouldn't irritate our bare butts but my butt got a
little sore from the pounding. I also got a boner from my dick rubbing on the
soft lambskin most of the time but nobody said anything.
After we finished riding, I said, "I want to go scuba-diving tomorrow."
Chris said, "You're ten or older, aren't you?"
I said, "Yes I turned eleven . . . nine days ago."
"I thought you were eleven. To scuba-dive you have to be ten or older. You
have to pass a swimming test, take 30 hours of instruction and pass a test.
Then you get a certificate and you can go diving with a safety robot."
"I'm a good swimmer. I want to get started with the instruction tomorrow. Do
you have a certificate?"
"No. I don't like swimming much so I never even started the instruction."
"That's too bad. I'd like to go diving with you," I said.
"Matti has a certificate and he likes to dive. After you get yours, you can
dive together if he's still on the island by then."
(To be continued.)
If you liked this part of the story, please send me a private message. If
there was something you did not like please send me a private message and tell
me what it was and how you think I should have done it differently. Comments
such as, "I did not like it." do not help me improve my writing.
* * * |
The Program: Ch.5: The Christmas Party | STRAIGHT, PENECTOMY, chastity | A month after Thanksgiving, slave David is freed from the belt once more. But will this erection be his last? Comments to [email protected]. Let me know if this gets you off. (Hey, vouyerism is my \"normal\" kink :-) | Chapter Seven(section five): The Christmas Party
“The next weeks dragged by, with me in the hopeless situation of having to
pleasure Mistress Judith and Mistress Blaise. After one evening when I brought
them both to a series of orgasms, I lay seething with lust between them as
they pinched my nipples, tickled my balls and teased my ass. In spite of
knowing I would get no relief, my body continued, as it still does today, to
seek out their touch. My face, still glazed with their juices from my oral
services to them, flooded my olfactory senses with their mingled musk. Tongues
flicked simultaneously on both nipples, while two pairs of hands teasingly
dragged well lacquered nails across my body.
“You know Blaise, “ said Judith, with amusement, “we forgot to even give slave
a Christmas present.”
“We did let him watch us double team Mike again,” she replied coyly.
“True,” said Judith, “but I’m thinking of something a little more personal.”
“Like what?”
“Let’s give him back his cock.” A shock went through my body, but the thrill
only increased with the next sentence. “After all, he’ll be needing it to help
service our little girls club gathering at New Year’s.”
“Ooh, look at his face. I’d say he’s very excited right now.” I could feel my
cheeks burning with humiliation as it occurred to me it must be a kind of
cruel joke. “Well slave, aren’t you excited by the idea of having your cock
again?”
“Yes Mistress Blaise.”
“I’m excited too,” she said. “I always did have a little desire to see how
that pretty little cock might feel in my cunt. Aren’t you curious?”
“Y-yes,” I stammered, “t-that is if I have permission from Mistress Judith.”
“Good answer slave. But don't worry,” Judith said, pausing dramatically, ”I’m
even gonna let you use your cock on me,” she said, gripping my imprisoned
package and giving it a firm tug. “But first, we have to prepare your cock.”
Mistress Blaise was already surrounding my wrists with leather cuffs, which
she clipped to heavy duty hasps on the headboard. My ankles were similarly
treated. Next, they brought up straps from under the bed, passing one across
my hips just above the belt, and another across my thighs. Before they
tightened them down, Mistress Judith took the key from around her neck.
“Ready?” asked Blaise.
“Yes, but we’ll need to work fast in spite of the pain, or we’ll never fit it
in that thing. “The thing in question was a well lubed, polished chrome ring,
that looked to be about ľ the girth of my fully hard member. “Raise you hips
slave.”
I complied. Simultaneously, I heard the snap of the belt opening and felt slap
of Blaise’s hand onto my vulnerable balls. So even though my cock had not seen
the air since Thanksgiving, my erection, as the belt was pulled away, was not
immediate. The pain continued, as first one ball, then the other was roughly
forced through the ring. Next Judith grabbed my cock head, and bent it down to
the ring’s opening, in the same direction my balls had just passed through.
With none too gentle tugging and shoving, she worked my meat through the
device until the ring rested tightly against my body indenting my pubes,
almost disappearing into my flesh as Blaise bent to begin licking my balls. I
felt joy as my shaft surged towards the hardest erection I had ever known, but
soon regretted it, as the tightening ring disappeared into my flesh. My cock
was inflating like a carnival balloon, and I watched my beating pulse in it.
The women stood up, tightening the straps across my hips, and admiring their
work.
“Jesus, if I knew he could get that big, it might of saved our marriage.” said
Judith, her finger gently circling her pubes.
“If I found out, I might of broken it up,” replied Blaise with a grin,
unsuccessfully trying to dart out of range of Judith’s stinging slap to her
ass.
“Watch it.” Judith said, gripping Blaise’s face and pulling her in for a
series of wet kisses. The helmet of my cock head throbbed even bigger
witnessing this scene. “Anyway, now that it’s my cock, I can choose when I
give it to you. Come on, lets get him ready.”
An electric shaver was produced, and soon my pubes were as well denuded as
they could be with the torturous ring imbedded in them. “ Let’s take some
“before photos.” said Blaise The camera snapped away as Judith held first a
yellow cloth measuring tape, and then her beautiful face beside my empurpling
shaft. “Okay, enough. Let’s really get him hard.”
I was already so hard I feared my veins might burst, and my dick was beginning
to burn from lack of blood flow. “Mistress,” I began tentatively, hoping to
beg for mercy.
“Don’t speak slave.” Mistress Judith snapped. “Your presence is not required
here. We just need my cock.” My open mouth snapped shut. “Good boy. Keep
quiet, or we’ll have to leave you here, and take my cock somewhere else.” I
looked up helpless, at my beautiful goddess, as she reached to the bedside
table and lifted something black to strap onto her luscious pale skinned
thigh. “You remember Thanksgiving don’t you,” she said, and her hand moved to
her leg whipping out a wicked eight inch hunting knife. She laid its cold
blade against my newly denuded pubic mound, the razor sharp edge pressing
against a swollen vein in the side of my cock shaft. I was trembling, trying
to remain motionless, but I could feel the edge with each beat of my pulse.
With one pull, the cock I had waited so long to touch again would be
destroyed. She held it there silently for a while, as a single tear began to
roll down my cheek.
“What’s the matter little guy,” murmured Blaise into my ear, in honeyed baby-
talk. “Is him scared of mommy’s big knife taking away his little pee-pee?” My
only reply was a trembling, fear filled gasp. “Yes, it would be sad if his
special part got taken away forever wouldn’t it. Imagine a sad little boy with
no toy to play with.” The warmth of her breathy voice raised goose bumps over
my whole body.
“It would be sad wouldn’t it…” chimed in Judith, “…for him I mean, not for us.
I mean, we’ve been living nine months without even touching it, and I’m having
the best sex life ever.” She smirked. “Come on Blaise, let’s do this thing.”
Though I wanted to squirm, my bonds wouldn’t even allow an inch of motion, not
to mention, that any motion would be thrusting against the instrument of my
own doom. Begging, I knew, would only hasten the knife. The two women leaned
together over me, kissing passionately, the knife held carelessly against my
shaft. They pulled back nose to nose, looking into each other’s eyes. “Soon”
whispered Judith. “Now, you get the mix ready while I pump.”
I watched in relief and confusion as Judith and Blaise stood-up from the bed,
Mistress Judith looking me knowingly in the eyes, as she sheathed the knife at
her thigh, giving the handle a little drumming tap with her fingernails.
“Soon,” she mouthed the word, her stern brow suddenly relaxing, “but not
tonight.” Her face broke into a beautific grin, and suddenly she was my angel.
She snapped on a rubber glove and poured lube from a bottle onto her hand.
“Sorry about the glove slave, but the contract says I will never touch your
cock again.”
She seemed almost contrite, as her hand glided lightly up and down my shaft,
spreading lube evenly over its length, and around my pubic mound and ball
sack. “That out to work,” she said, removing the glove as she walked to the
closet. There she retrieved a large bag from a local dungeon shop, probably
where the guy she blew to make my belt works, “ I thought. From it she pulled
a Plexiglas cylinder a foot long, and as big around as a Morton’s salt box.
“Now slave, we’re gonna pump you up.”
As she squeezed the handle, pausing after each squeeze to let me adjust to the
pressure, my cock swelled to proportions I had only ever dreamed of.
Partially, I know, it was the cylinder sinking into my pubic mound, but I
swear a half inch of it was my raging meat, now bulging obscenely through the
ring, veins popping out thick as pencils. After half an hour, the Mistresses
released the pressure. But because of the super tight chrome ring, my penis
did not return to it’s pre pumped size right away. As Blaise clicked away at
the camera, Judith, appropriately rubber gloved laid the tape measure again
along the top of my shaft.
“Congratulations slave, you finally have that eight-and-a-half-inch cock you
always used to think you had. And this one’s over seven inches around.” Add
the water Blaise, he’s ready.
“I’m sure he is. That little blue pill I put into his lunch has definitely had
the desired result. “Now hold still.”
I felt coolness envelop my meat as Blaise pushed the molding material down
over my raging prick. Be sure the mold surrounds those swollen balls too.
Judith stood before me, masturbating wantonly. “Once the mold set’s up, we can
make a couple of copies,” one for us, and one for slave’s Christmas present.”
At last, the mystery was clear. They were giving me "my cock back" only in the
form of a dildo. my hopes of escape from the dreadful belt were dashed once
again.
She eased the mold off me. “Ooh, look, you can see every vein.”
“The better to remember him by,” said Mistress Judith with a grin. “Say, how
long has he been in that ring?”
“Ooh. Two hours. Maybe two and a half.”
“Well we’d better get him down… if we can. said Judith with a grin.
”Otherwise, his cock could die a premature death.”
“But the problem is, he can’t cum. None ‘til April 1st.”
“God, I can’t even see the ring. Maybe it’s already too late.” To lay there,
hearing my mistress/wife and her beautiful lesbian lover, calmly discussing
the fate of my cock made me break out in a cold sweat. With the super tight
ring, the pumping and the Viagra coursing through my system, all they would
have to do is walk away and my fate would be sealed. Not only my cock, but my
balls were dying of constriction as they spoke. It was this fact that seemed
to save me.
“I’d actually be okay with it, but I need his balls to control him,” said
Judith, grinning, so we’d better try that old mistresses advice. They
disappeared, and I tugged frantically at my bonds, but found no relief. They
soon returned with a bowl full of ice and water, and some soaked ace bandages
they wrapped progressively tighter around my shaft, so the blood was forced
out but could not return. Still, it took a painful half hour to wedge my cock
back through the ring, and one of my balls was almost turned to pulp in the
process.
“Well he sure won’t fit back in the belt tonight, ” observed Blaise. In spite
of my painful exit, the Viagra immediately returned me to hardness. “Well,
looks like his balls are gonna live anyway,” she said with a giggle. “But
what’s that they say about an erection of four or more hours?”
“They say ‘Slave, you’d better make that thing go down, or it’s gonna turn
black and fall off.’” said Judith “Maybe this will help.” Judith wrapped a
towel around my genital area, as a sort of catch basin, which she then heaped
full of ice. My cock head raged defiantly from the top of the heap, in spite
of the sickening cold.
“Ooh, good luck with that,” said Blaise, nodding towards my unchanged
erection. She turned to Judith for a kiss. “Hey gorgeous. What say let’s have
a drink and “clone-a-willy.” I looked on at the scene of uncanny beauty, as
the two kissed again, and the submissive in me felt a surge of gratitude for
being able to witness the scene, even as my own fears grew.
Blaise turned the lights out and pulled the door behind them as they left, the
melodious sound of their quiet conversation fading into silence."Ya know, if
he looses it now, we've already got a perfect copy..."
I lay spread-eagled, packed in ice, my cock too numb to feel, the room too
dark to see it. I could not even tell if I was erect in the pitch black room.
With no clock, I could not even judge whether my pryapismic penis might be
dying as I lay there, trying to desperately to think of anything but sex . It
was the worst night of my slavery so far, but my last thought before sleep was
the most disturbing.
The hunting knife’s keen edge against my raging shaft, the flush of excitement
in the women’s faces. The whispered word, emerging from Mistress Judith’s full
wet lips.
“Soon…”
* * * |
Ricky Visits America | BI, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION, MINOR, Chapter 1 of 4 | In this Simon Scott spinoff of the series by CvanD, Ricky Silva visits his grandparents in America during summer vacation. His best friend, Roddy Fisher, accompanies him. Several surprises await Ricky in America, the least of which is finding out that some old ghosts from past Simon-stories are haunting them. | 1
_Coming to America_
(A Simon Scott Spin-off)
by
Paolo,
Based upon characters created by C van D, without whom, the entire Simon Scott
Universe would not exist. This story would not have been possible without
CvanD, and I am grateful for his allowing me to temporarily "adopt" _his_
boys.
*^**o**^*
“Oh, DO hurry up, Silva! It’s a long swim to the States, you know, and the
plane won’t wait!”
The boy chiding me is Simon Scott, some years older than me, and one of the
most popular students here at Southdown Hall School in Britain. Marvelous
school, Southdown. I can’t begin to tell you how happy I am to be here, but
you can read all about that in “Ricky Goes to School”. That would be me, you
know – Ricky Silva. I’ve never done a story like Simon has, and as this is my
first time, you’ll please forgive me if I ramble or digress? I thought you
might…
For those of you who don’t know me, though, well, there isn’t all that much to
tell. I’m an orphan. I’m not actually sure how old I am, either. The fake
passport papers state that I’m 14 now; I think I may be younger. I certainly
DO look younger… I was born in the United States, I think – at least, my
mother registered my birth there. I do know I was born on July 4th. Ironic,
that… I don’t recall her, and I know nothing of my father. About all I
remember of my earlier childhood was missing my mother very much when she
never came back to the camp we were living in. I didn’t know it then, but she
was doing volunteer work in the Orient. Malaysia, near Cambodia, to be
precise.
I was cared for well enough by the VSO people she worked with, but when things
got sticky there and they left, they abandoned me. I still don’t understand
how anyone could just up and leave a child behind, but they did. I then fell
in with some sort of hippie-commune, where all of us children, (and there were
a LOT of us!) were pretty much treated like public property. It wasn’t bad, as
it was a very relaxed atmosphere. Relaxed, in fact, to the point that clothing
us children wasn’t much of a priority and many of us, even girls, just ran
nude most of the time in good weather. Of course, nothing untoward happened to
me with them, but I was pretty much left to care for myself. I soon learned
that if I stood in a line long enough, there would likely be food at the end
of it. One becomes pretty streetwise fast that way.
Then one day, the commune moved on. Some men in trucks came, and in the
confusion (I think I remember some hostilities, maybe gunfire?), I got
separated from my caregivers and ended up being put in the back of a truck
with several other boys. To this day, I don’t like sudden, loud noises. They
locked us in the back of the truck, come to find out, when one boy, Li Shih,
had to pee and could not get out and wet himself! They wouldn’t stop for
anything, either; not even to feed us. It was a long, bumpy, miserable ride, I
remember.
I should probably mention that of all these Asian and mixed-race boys, I was
the most mixed and unique of all: I look quite Chinese in features, but I have
yellow blonde hair and cornflower blue eyes. This made me something of an
oddity, and many of the other boys didn’t like me for it. A great deal of them
made fun of me because of my features, even though the adults were always
telling me how special, even beautiful, I was. I think they were just jealous.
Over time, though, I did make some friends, and I miss them. I would later
come to find out that I inherited my Scandinavian coloration from my mother,
an American named Linda Benson, and my Chinese features from my mixed-race
father, David Silva. I wish I could remember him…
It’s actually my Grandparents, on my mother’s side, that have arranged this
trip to visit them, but we’ll get to that shortly.
To make a long back story short, the truck deposited us at a remote orphanage.
It was a ten-hour drive to civilization from there, and I can’t for the life
of me see why anyone would set up shop out there. But there were about 100
other boys there, and girls, so obviously there was a need for the place. It
wasn’t much of a place, but it had food, a warm and dry place to sleep, and
other boys that weren’t so rude as some I’d known. The girls, well, we were in
separate buildings, so I can’t speak much on them. I did make a new friend
there fairly soon, though. His name was Jimmy, but over time, I came to
dislike him very much. He eventually came to Britain as well, being passed off
as my little brother, although he was fully Chinese and probably older than I
am. For more on that, you’ll have to read “Simon & the Horrible Hotel”. He’s
in a special school for traumatized children now…
Not to digress upon Jimmy’s case too much, but it does merit a mention. Jimmy
was rather…queer, if you ask me. He had been a “beach boy” since he was very
little, coming and going at the home where I found myself then. He was there
before Dr. Kristen Geller bought the place, and it was Dr. Geller that finally
settled him down. I should probably mention how she did that, too – she
castrated him.
And me.
Don't be surprised. In this day and age, a great number of boys of all ages
are neutered. Mostly, it’s done by injecting Neutersol Rapid or Pediatric
(depends on the age of the neuteree) into the testicles to make them shrink up
and vanish. It’s called “having your balls pricked”, as the boys in Britain
call it. Simon once told me he knew an American boy named Jason Johnson who
called it “having your balls stung out”. It also destroys the erectile nerves,
making it so that a boy can never fuck a girl or even get hard ever again!
(Just so you know, Simon told me it doesn’t sting.) Me and Jimmy, however,
were cut. We had a surgery, and I admit, at the time, Dr. Geller had talked me
into it and I was all for it. I thought it was a very good idea at the time,
but nowadays, sometimes I wonder. I don't think Simon really approved of it. I
know it really bothered my Grandparents too, but we’ll get to that.
As it turned out, Jimmy and I were the only castrated boys there. We were
‘boy-eunuchs’, as Dr. Geller called us. She seemed to favor us, too. While all
the other boys had shabby clothing and buzzed haircuts, Jimmy and I had
longer, styled hair and better clothes. But Jimmy was a unique case in that
his castration hadn’t settled him down a bit. Before his surgery, Jimmy was
entering puberty and acting “coltish”. In fact, he was going about with an
erection all of the time and fiddling with it. It was quite annoying. Dr.
Geller had to restrain him, as he went mad when she told him what she was
going to do to him. But when it was over (maybe it was the drugs?) Jimmy just
seemed to accept it. He couldn’t get hard anymore, about 2-3 weeks after the
cut, and his scrotum just shrank up; so did his penis. It was hardly a nub
that he could pee through, and he had to sit down to pee from there on out.
For that matter, so do I.
But the other thing that happened to Jimmy was that his desire for sex didn’t
go away like it does for most boy-eunuchs. He still wanted to get hard. He
still wanted to wank. He still wanted to fuck someday – whether it was boys or
girls, I don't know – but he couldn’t. And he knew he never would. Neutering
had made his tiny cock limp and useless forever, so he turned to the one way
that he still had to find sexual pleasure – being fucked.
Up the arse.
By grown men!
Can you imagine?!
Now, for the record, “I” have never been fucked and I never will be! Don't
even think about it! I value my virtue highly, thank you very much…
But Jimmy didn’t.
On many occasions, men would come to our home and pay Dr. Geller money to
spend a night with Jimmy. Sometimes, they would spend a night with another
boy. Some came for girls. It was by eavesdropping late one night that I
learned this, when I overheard Dr. Geller making a deal with someone named
Riche, a repeat customer. I think he was a Major. Anyway, he wound up renting
Jimmy and fucking him silly! That was Jimmy for you – always ready for a “good
sucky-fucky,” as he called it. What frightened me more, though, was when men
would ask for ME.
“How much for a go with the blonde Chinese boy?” They used to ask.
But Dr. Geller never allowed that. I think I was her favorite. But that was
how I learned one way that Dr. Geller made money to keep our home running. It
makes me sad now, looking back at that.
I must have been special to her somehow, since all the other boys I came in
with were shipped out on another truck about a week or so later. I never saw
any of them again, Li Shih included. But I stayed on at Dr. Geller’s home for
us kids, and I have to say, I liked her and liked being there. It was better
than what I’d known, and I actually felt safe with her. I wouldn’t find out
until years later what she’d been doing to all of those boys, or where they
ended up.
To skip ahead some, otherwise we’ll never get to my summertime adventure in
the United States…
One day, a man came to see Dr. Geller. It turned out that he was Simon’s Uncle
Carl, Carl Scott, and he paid for me to come to Britain to go to school with
Simon! I wish I could have met him in person to thank him for changing my life
and giving me this opportunity, but I never got to. He died in a bus crash,
right into the sea, not long ago.
I used to think, ‘Poor Simon, he never talks about it, but I know he’s just
crushed. Uncle Carl was really the only family he had.’ That was before I
found out the whole story, which I’ll sort of gloss over here:
For a long time Simon had looked on Carl as the family he’d never really had
(his parents having shed responsibility for him when he was not much more than
ten). All of those seemingly generous actions by his uncle, and even the times
he’d been made to have sex, he’d taken for signs of affection – even in some
strange way, love.
But in the days before that fatal crash into the waters of Portsmouth Harbour,
Carl had emerged in his true colours. Carl used all of humanity as his pawns.
Manipulation was his sole objective. Simon himself was typical of his uncle’s
obsessive passion for control, from being taken to have his balls pricked, all
those years ago, to a whole series of indecent degrading acts behind locked
doors, humiliation and emotional blackmail. Did I tell you about Marcia? Well,
do read “Simon Toes the Line” if you are interested.
It was the realisation that his uncle would stop at nothing, however inhuman
or immoral, that would increase his control over others, which shattered
Simon, even before the crash. Once I found out all of this, it changed my
perceptions of Carl Scott a great deal. I’m glad Simon finally told me all
this, but I’m getting ahead of myself.
I know the death left Simon VERY well off, but money isn’t all that important,
is it? I would think a family is, and that’s whyI’m so glad my Grandparents
finally found me.
But that’s another thing I owe Dr. Geller, even though I would later come to
find out that she was just Simon’s Uncle – manipulative, for her own gain.
Actually, it was she who tracked them down via my only link to America – my
old United Airlines baggage tag from back when my mother registered my birth
there. I don’t know why she didn’t leave me with my grandparents then; looking
back, I’d think I’d have been safer, don’t you? The Orient’s backcountry is no
place for a baby, is it? What WAS she thinking?
So, anyhow, that’s how I got here – Southdown Hall School, Britain, like I
said. It’s now summer holidays, seven weeks off, and I’m off with my best
friend Roddy Fisher to visit my Grandparents in West Chester, Pennsylvania,
United States! Simon’s very put off with us, since it’s taking us too long to
pack and the plane will be leaving soon. Simon’s driving us to Heathrow in his
gray Aston-Martin, now that he’s 17 and legal to drive it on the highways.
Some Judge-lady friend of his pulled some strings, though, so he drove it
before.
Melanie, Simon's long-time girlfriend, is coming too. She’s clearly going
through one of her "retro" phases. To see us off she had put on a very short
vinyl mini-skirt, worn over fishnet tights. At a guess she wasn't wearing any
knickers. I thought, at first, what a slut she looked, but then reflected that
Simon undoubtedly loved her (so far as a boy-eunuch can love a girl!) and that
was all that mattered. She can’t drive worth a damn either, or so Simon says.
I hear she’s trashed her mum’s Landrover Discovery. I really hoped SHE wasn’t
driving!
“Fisher! For God’s sake, you don't have to pack up all THAT! And why take your
uniform? School’s out for a bit?” Simon gently encouraged us. “Wear the peach
button-down, yes, that’s the one! Goes well with your complexion, you see.”
So there we were, Roddy and I, getting packed up and ready to go. Dressing was
a bit of a problem, though, as I don’t really own any clothes other than my
school uniforms. Of course, I have PE gear, and trainers are always the
fashion, but Simon wants us to look sharp. I’m not too sure about this shirt,
though – it makes me look like a huge walking Union Jack, and red/blue aren’t
really my colors. Melanie picked it out, though, and I don't dare talk back at
her and hurt her feelings. I have to admit, I kind of like it when she kisses
my cheek…
“How many times can you PEE in one morning, Silva?” Simon asked me irritably.
“Shall we pack some nappies, too, or do you need an ivory ring?”
I had been peeing a lot lately, although I didn’t know why. It seemed like I
always had to go, and it took a while TO go when I got to the toilet. I was
going to ask Matron about it when she cleaned us out, but good, this morning,
but I forgot. Her high-volume enemas are quite distracting, and that rubber
band she wraps tight on our penises sort of hurts.
“I think I’m ready,” Roddy was telling Melanie, as Simon grabbed up his bag
and headed down with it.
Briefly, Roddy is about the same age as I am. We share a room, us and two
other boys, and we do everything together. We both have our Under-14 colors at
Rugby and track, and we’re both stars of Mr Trefusis’ choir. We perform
regularly at various churches, too. I’m a bit worried about moving up to
Under-16 soon, but we’ve found that being neutered doesn’t seem to affect us
much on the field, compared to intact boys. There I go again…sorry!
Did I mention that Roddy is “THE Roderick Fisher”, boy soprano and recording
sensation? He started off doing voice-overs with Mark Maitland, an old friend
of Simon’s. I’ve only seen Mark a few times, as he and Simon don’t get on much
any more. Mark isn’t a eunuch, like we are, so he’s in a separate part of the
school. I may have forgotten to mention that, too…sorry.
But yes, Simon’s a eunuch, just like Roddy and myself. In fact, there’s so
many of us here that Dr. Holroyd, the Headmaster, has us in our special part
of the school. I think there’s about 100 of us now?
That’s another thing that Roddy and I have in common – we both WANTED to be
gelded, you see. Roddy didn’t want a thing to do with puberty and growing up,
all those nasty male sexual characteristics like a beard, body hair, and the
smell – not to mention the sex drive. Roddy doesn’t talk about it much, but he
was raped when he was younger. Mainly by his adoptive older brother, Malcolm.
But Malcolm’s in jail now, so that’s not our problem. I think they call
Roddy’s case gender-dyslexia, or something – he was a boy who didn’t want to
be a boy, but he didn’t want to be a girl, either. I’ve heard of boys, in
Thailand, I think, that try to be girls, but I’m digressing again. Sorry.
Anyway, Roddy’s a famous recording artist, but we try to keep that under
wraps. It just wouldn’t do to have the public here know that THE Roderick
Fisher is a student of Southdown. I’m sure it’ll only get worse when our pop-
style album comes out. It’s bad enough when fangirls spot him in public and
throw their knickers at him, professing their undying love for him and
offering to have his babies.
If they only knew!
Me, I’m pretty good at singing, so Simon says. Of course, my operation
guaranteed that. Simon couldn’t sing a note until he’d had his balls pricked,
then something just happened. That’s how Roddy was neutered, by the way –
Simon and Melanie arranged it for him with Neutersol Plus. Roddy said it was
painless, and he slept right through it. He doesn’t miss his balls a bit, and
having a tiny cock so that he has to sit to pee doesn’t bother him a bit. Of
course, we’re only two of about 100 boy-eunuchs here at Southdown Hall, with
more being admitted or made every term. Nowadays, boys with intact balls are
becoming something of an oddity, don’t you think?
But getting back to that, yes, Roddy and I do everything together. We’ve even
just made a new CD of us doing solos, AND duets. Thanks to computers, we can
even harmonize with each other in multiple parts, and we even have one track
with old recordings of Mark’s. Our new CD is called “TIME HEALS”. Look for it.
My favorite track is “Going Home”; I do the vocals on that one, but Roddy
features as the Ghost in the video we just shot.
“We’ve just got time for a bit of shopping,” Melanie told us, once we were
(safely?) in the Aston-Martin and tearing off down the highway for the
airport. I didn’t know about that. After all, other than my scholarship and
what The Simon Scott Centre pays for my needs, I have no money other than the
bit my grandparents now send me for pocket money. Surely not enough for real
shopping?
“They’ll need some things to take along,” Melanie was telling Simon, once we
got parked at Heathrow and headed in. Major airports have a lot of shoppes in
them, did you know? I was just astounded, but I thought they were going to
strip-search us to let us in! Wouldn’t THAT have been a surprise for them?
And so Melanie pulled out a Gold Visa card and began to supply us with things
I never would have bought for myself, even if I could have. She picked out a
new Nikon digital camera with movie-mode, and an 8 Gigabyte card for me, and a
smaller one for Roddy. I was lingering over some CD’s, but we’d already packed
some of our own. I wanted to listen to “TIME HEALS” on the way. It seemed
right, somehow, now that I had a family. I checked my watch, a gold Rolex I’d
been awarded for services to my country. (You’ll recall that’s when we had
that rare earthquake?) It was getting close to time to board. Melanie added
some mirrored sunglasses, spare batteries for our I-pods, and some snack
foods. I didn’t think I needed that, as I’d put on a bit of weight lately, but
I didn’t argue. In fact, I was about to cry. (That’s one of those eunuch-
things, but I digress again.)
“For God’s sake, Melanie, they’re not dress-up dolls,” Simon chided her, as
Melanie was holding up a Herringbone gold necklace to Roddy’s neck.
“Oh, but Simon, they’re just SO bloody cute!” She replied, pinching my cheek.
I felt my face turning red. “And you know how I get!” I thought I heard Simon
mutter the word “net” or “wet” or something, but I wasn’t sure and didn’t ask.
Simon grinned at her when the loudspeakers called out: “London to Boston, now
boarding at Gate 9!”
We made a dash from the mall to Gate 9, with Simon reminding us of things all
the way. “Don’t talk to strangers, be nice to the stewardesses, and don’t get
lost in Boston when you switch planes. You’re unaccompanied minors, and the
staff knows. Now, you’ve got mobile phones programmed with our numbers in
case…,”
“Oh, Simon,” Melanie cut him off, as we arrived at the Gate and got checked
in. I almost fainted when I saw the plane – it was huge! I think it was an
Airbus; not a thing like the rickety, old rusty tin can that I’d flown into
Britain on from the Orient! I swear, THAT plane had screen doors…
“First class,” the man checking tickets commented, as he handed us our
“Unaccompanied Minor” tags and a very pretty young lady took us in hand.
“Goodbye, Roddy. Goodbye, Ricky. Have a good time,” Simon told us, bending
down (he’s almost 2 meters tall now, so I guess they thought he was our dad?)
to kiss us both goodbye. Then he quite suddenly burst into tears and crushed
us with a hug; should have seen that coming when he used our first names.
That’s another one of those eunuch-things, I guess. Sometimes you just cry at
silly things. Melanie kissed us goodbye, too. Roddy and I blushed. And then we
were headed down the ramp to get on the plane to America.
“…like little brothers…” I could heard Simon saying, as Melanie was handing
him a tissue, “…miss them already…long flight…strange country…anything
could…,” his voice trailed off. I began to feel guilty and got all misty.
Maybe I should have asked Simon to come along, too?
I won’t dwell upon describing the plane. I’m sure you’ve seen them. To be
brief, it was very spacious and quite nice. Roddy and I were seated near the
cockpit (odd turn of phrase), and surrounded by well-dressed people. The
takeoff was quite thrilling, almost like a ride at an amusement park, I
thought. A little boy across the way from us with light brown skin and
straight black hair grabbed a bag and vomited, though. I offered him some of
our motion sickness medicine. His father, I assumed, a much darker-skinned man
and obviously from India, accepted it gratefully.
Once we were aloft, and told that we were free to move about the cabin, I ran
to the toilet to pee again. This was getting quite annoying! When I got back
to my seat, I noticed a rather well dressed and stuffy looking man staring at
Roddy. My guard went up at once, remembering what Simon had told us about
strangers. The man nodded to me, and I could see that he was listening to an
MP3 player. He smiled at me, and the fuzz on the back of my neck stood up. I
nudged Roddy, who looked up from his large book about a boy-wizard. “What,
then?” He asked. Then he noticed the man and his frightening smile.
“You’ll forgive me, I hope,” the man began, not bothering to introduce
himself, nor the young lady sitting next to him. She was young and rather
pretty, I thought. “But I think I know who you are?” He then produced a CD
from his carry-on. On the jacket, it showed two young choirboys in white robes
with hoods, both of them walking into what looked like a ruined ancient
cathedral. They were holding hands, and it looked as if they were following
behind a ghost.
“You’re Roderick Fisher, aren’t you?” He asked anxiously, “And you must be
Ricardo Silva?”
Rats, I thought, our cover was blown already! I just hoped the young lady
wasn’t going to throw her knickers at us, or worse!
“Ermmm, yes,” Roddy admitted nervously, and the man reluctantly offered Roddy
a pen and his CD. His young girlfriend, thankfully, looked unimpressed. After
we’d signed his CD jacket for him, he seemed satisfied. In the seat ahead of
him, that Indian fellow with the coffee-colored skin glanced back at us. He
reminded me of Manchit Khannah, Simon’s friend. Meanwhile, the little boy
who’d been ill was dashing off to the toilet, and our personal stewardess
(remember, we were unaccompanied minors) was asking if we needed anything.
‘Autograph-Man’ across the way seemed to be settling in for a nap. I wondered
how long the flight would take, but that Indian fellow was still looking at
us.
“He OK?” I asked conversationally.
“Oh yes, just a bit ill from the doctor’s, is all,” The Indian man replied.
“Blood tests, the usual checkup. He doesn’t like to fly, I think?” He added,
in quite good English, just as someone else got up and crashed right into
‘Sickly-boy’, who was returning from the toilet. That man’s elbow caught the
boy square in the crotch, but my surprise, the little fellow just went “OOOF!”
and said, “Sorry!” as he took his seat. The Indian man looked nervous as the
young lady with ‘Autograph-Man’ muttered, “Bet THAT hurt!”
“No, it didn’t,” the boy offered, looking pleased that there might be other
boys to talk to on the flight, even if we were older.
“It didn’t hurt a bit?” I had to ask him, knowing what was coming.
“No, he just bumped me,” the boy replied, “I’m Shekhar, I’m eight. What’s your
name?”
We introduced ourselves, and Shekhar didn’t believe I was fourteen. Neither
did I, for that matter. I don’t think I am, really, but as being neutered sort
of makes it hard to tell, I guess it doesn’t matter. Anyhow, Shekhar sort of
gravitated to us. Roddy asked him about his checkup, having pulled the earbuds
of his CD player out to listen in.
“Just checking me over, you know, down there, too,” Shekhar added in a
whisper. He cocked his head. “Why would it hurt if I get bumped there? There’s
not anything to hurt?”
The Indian man, who still hadn’t introduced himself, coughed loudly and even
managed to turn red, but before he could say anything else, I’d added, “Well,
usually it hurts a boy to get bumped in the balls, Shekhar?”
“What?” Shekhar asked, looking confused. “I don’t have any balls? If you have
one, maybe can play football (soccer, for you Americans) in the aisle?” I
could tell that THIS conversation was going to go places! Then, in all of his
childhood innocence, Shekhar said (somewhat loudly), “Uncle, am I supposed to
have balls? I didn’t know I could bring them on the plane?” If anyone else
around us was listening in, they didn’t react. Thankfully.
Shekhar’s Uncle moved over closer to us. It wasn’t like we were crammed into
tiny little seats in coach, you know.
“Shekhar is, ahhh, well, he’s a…and he doesn’t really know he is…,” Uncle
‘What’s-his-name’ fumbled.
“Oh, so you’ve never even told him?” Roddy asked glibly, “And he was young
enough when he was done, so that he doesn’t even remember it?”
Of all things! I thought, little Shekhar was a eunuch, and he didn’t even know
it!
“Right,” ‘Uncle’ nodded in relief. “The procedure took place when he was a
baby. Very holy, you know,” Uncle added. Shekhar was looking confused, so it
looked like the time had come to explain to the little fellow just WHAT he was
missing down there! We moved to a lounge area, and I could see nothing but
ocean out the windows as I peered out.
“What balls, where?” Shekhar asked again.
“Maybe we should explain?” ‘Uncle’ suggested, “Since you seem to be, ahhh?” He
fumbled again, apparently thinking it might be rude to suggest that he thought
that we were boy-eunuchs too. I guess we must look the part?
Well, we are, so what’s the bother? I let him know that we were. He nodded and
grinned. “Thought so,” he said. “Quite holy.”
Roddy then pulled out his laptop from his carry-on. “If you don’t mind, sir?”
He asked, pulling up some images. ‘Uncle’ nodded. “You see, Shekhar,” Roddy
explained, as the little boy cuddled up between us, “You’re a boy. Now, boys
are born with some, uhhh, things…between their legs. You know, the penis and
two organs below it, called ‘testicles’, or ‘balls’, held in a little hanging
pouch called a ‘scrotum’. But some boys don’t have testicles. They can be born
without them, or they can have them taken out by a doctor.”
“But I don’t have anything under my little penis?” Shekhar admitted, “Why is
that, Uncle?” He asked, looking fascinated at the images of an intact adult
male that Roddy had scanned from his biology text. The next image was that of
a eunuch, neutered before puberty. “That’s more like me!” Shekhar agreed.
“Well, my boy,” ‘Uncle’ said, his face still burning, “When you came to live
with us, when you were a baby, your Aunt and I decided that it would be best
for you to be neutered. That means having your balls out. It makes a boy
calmer, makes him a better student and smarter, and he never gets distracted
by girls. Many times, it even makes his voice sweeter.”
“Ewwwww!” Shekhar whined at the mention of girls. Then he looked thoughtful.
“So I had these ball-things on me when I was born, but you made a doctor cut
them out?”
“Actually, the doctor gave you two shots, and your little balls just dried up
and disappeared,” ‘Uncle’ explained. “It was a new medicine at the time, but
it worked; much better than surgery. There are other advantages, like just
now, when that man bumped you. If you had balls, you would be in much pain.
They are very sensitive.”
“But what do they do?” Shekhar asked, and the next hour was spent explaining a
lot of THOSE things. There was a great deal of dancing around certain
subjects, as the boy was far too young to know it all yet, but in the end, I
think he understood that he was indeed a eunuch, and that he could never grow
up into a real man.
“I’m not sure about this,” Shekhar finally concluded, “But since I don’t
remember ever having balls, I guess it’s OK?”
About then, it was time for lunch. Roddy distracted our little friend with a
DVD in his laptop, and we watched a movie based on the adventures of that boy-
wizard from Roddy’s book. Roddy was really into that series, and that was good
for killing about 3 hours, plus the DVD extras. Shekhar seemed fascinated by
it all, and all the talk of not having balls went right out the window!
The rest of the flight was uneventful. There was an in-flight film, of course,
and then dinner. Roddy and I had steak, and even though we’re not fond of
them, we did eat the steamed vegetables. Dessert, which we probably shouldn’t
have had, was a wonderful chocolate layer cake with thick frosting (fattening,
I’m sure). By the time we were done, Shekhar and us had begun nodding and we
slept all the way into Boston.
THAT was where the fun started.
Boston was having bad weather, and it was the turbulence that woke us up. We
had to delay and circle until we were almost out of fuel, and when we finally
landed roughly and went to pick up our luggage, we were both missing one bag
each. To top that off, no one believed our passports saying we were teenagers,
and that had to be verified, since we looked so young. Finally, I pulled the
big card – “Does the name JUDGE Wendell Benson of Pennsylvania mean anything
to you?” I said darkly. Obviously, it did when the employee pulled up some
data on his computer. After all, “I” was a US Citizen! All in all, it was
quite annoying. I’ll never fly THAT airline again!
We bid our farewells to little Shekhar, the Indian Eunuch, figuring we’d never
see him again. Roddy wished Shekhar’s Uncle good luck in raising a boy-eunuch.
“You’re going to need it, sir, if he gets up to half the stuff that WE do,” he
said by way of goodbye. Shekhar hugged and kissed us both, and I began to
wonder about why younger children seemed so attracted to us. By the time we’d
found our bags on the wrong carousel, we had at least three strays following
us and had to take them to an Officer to sort them all out!
By this time, we were worried about missing our connecting flight on into
Pennsylvania. It seemed that we’d be taking a charter plane - much, much
smaller, into a private airfield. Of course, the foul weather delayed it. We
were handed over to a different young man, along with a couple of other
unaccompanied minors, and wound up falling asleep in the lounge while the rain
outside came down in buckets and the wind tried to tear the roof off.
(Considering we weren’t a bit tired after that nap on the plane, I think that
prat put something in our drinks to knock us out!)
It was around three or four in the morning, local time, when someone finally
shook Roddy and I awake and told us that our plane was finally ready to
depart. We gathered up our bags, and headed out to see a much smaller, twin-
engine plane awaiting us. It certainly wouldn’t be first class, but to our
joy, the weather had cleared some and the pilot took us one at a time into the
cockpit and explained flying to us! It was quite exciting, so we arrived at
West Chester all wound up in the early hours of the morning. Flying isn’t all
that difficult either, did you know? We both had a turn at the controls, but
the pilot insisted on doing the landing himself.
I think we actually arrived at a time before we’d left London. Flying to the
USA, you know, you go back like 7 hours in time or something? We reset our
watches and I called Gran Benson’s mobile to let her know we’d arrived safely.
As it turned out, they’d already called her and she and Grandfather were en
route.
When they arrived, Gran went all to bits – just like she always does!
Inevitably, she trotted out the phrase “you poor little thing” while dabbing
at her eyes with a handkerchief. I guess she’s never gotten over the shock of
how I dropped the fact on her at dinner, the first time we ever met! The fact
that I’d been neutered, that is. Maybe being a eunuch, in her eyes, is
something of a disability? Of course, I am the only child of their only
daughter, and I won’t ever be presenting them with biological great-
grandchildren, so…
Anyhow, as Gran was fussing all over me, I saw Roddy shaking hands with
Grandfather. I have to admit, I liked all that fuss. It felt good; a lot like
when Melanie fussed over us. “Glad you could come, Roddy,” Grandfather was
saying, “It’s such a comfort knowing our Ricky has such good friends and
didn’t have to come all this way alone.”
“Thank you, sir,” Roddy nodded back to him politely, which got Grandfather (he
wanted me to call them ‘Grandma and Grandpa’, which sounded strange to me)
started up about how stiff and formal “we Brits” were.
“You’ve got to loosen up,” Grandfather…Grandpa Benson was telling us, as we
got settled into their car for the drive back to their home. It was a Lexus,
and quite nice, I might add.
I should probably mention that this was the first opportunity I’ve had to come
to the States and see them since that first time we’d met at Southdown. Even
though they don’t appear to want for money, other school breaks are, I think,
quite too short to fly halfway ‘round the world for a vacation.
So there we were, and Roddy and I were totally lost, riding along with my
Grandparents in this impressive automobile. It was starting to get light
outside, and I was getting hungry again. Grandma was chatting away about how
fleshy and healthy we looked (I think she was trying to hint at “fat” without
saying it! I’m not fat, am I?), and asking this and that about our lives at
school. Roddy and I just answered as best we could. After all, we didn’t want
to really tell her just how much stuff we got up to! I also had to pee…again!
Roddy and I headed inside when we stopped at a ‘convenience store’, which I
found to be anything BUT convenient. There was a wait for the toilet, and when
we finally got in, the filthy room smelt of old urine and worse, and there was
graffiti all over the walls. It served its purpose, though, much to my relief.
The condom vending machine was good for a laugh, too. We were helping
ourselves to some instant cappuccino from a vending machine near the coffee
pot when I overheard Gran…Grandma saying, “Well I just can’t ASK him now, can
I? How would THAT sound?”
“Well, I don’t know, dear!” Grandpa answered her, “They look the same age, but
we can’t really be sure. Linda didn’t say WHEN she had the baby, and it’s not
like Ricky would have TOLD us that his best friend is…a…,”
“’Eunuch’?” Roddy supplied helpfully, and Grandma dropped her purse in
surprise. “It’s OK, Ma’am, as a matter of fact, I am.”
“Ohhhhh, you poor little dear! Just like our Ricky!” She almost wailed,
grabbing him in of those Grandma-hugs and almost spilling his cappuccino. “Who
did it to you, Robert?” She almost begged.
“’Roddy’,” Roddy corrected her politely, “And I wanted to have it done, Ma’am.
I didn’t want to grow up into…into something like…like m-my older b-brother,”
Roddy stammered. That was it. He’d finally said it.
“You know, you really shouldn’t give them kids X-large coffees,” The clerk
offered, and with that, we were off again.
“I just don’t understand it, Wendell,” Grandma was going on and on, “Nowadays,
you even get ads in the mail for having boys … fixed!” She almost spat. “How’s
a poor old lady supposed to get any grandchildren, if they’re neutering half
the boys in the world like stray puppies?” I had to snicker at that one.
Looking back, I’m sure that I was reminiscent of a lost puppy when they’d
found me.
But ‘poor’ was not a word to describe my Grandparents. Not by a long shot!
After stopping for breakfast in a typical American diner (nothing happened,
and the place was a dump), we arrived at my home-away-from-school/home.
Cumbersome, but accurate, I suppose. Just so you know, I live either at
Southdown, or in a suite that Simon keeps for me and Roddy at the Centre.
Remember, I’d never even been here before to see my Grandparents’ house; the
house that would someday be mine, so Grandpa promised. It also wasn’t in West
Chester, PA, either. It was about twenty minutes outside of it, past the
suburbs, where the countryside started.
It was huge! It looked like one of the buildings back on campus, brick and
imposing, all two stories of it. It sat back a ways from the road up a long,
paved drive. Great for skating, I thought. The lawn was filled with huge old
trees that must have been centuries old, too. The garage door opened by
itself, and when we went in, the foyer was bigger than our dorm room by twice.
Even Roddy, who’d spent years at the Knight-Foxes’ in Lymington Haven, was
impressed by this house. “Gosh!” Was about all I could manage – as soon as I
found the bathroom again, that was. (I was really getting pissed, pun
intended, by this time!)
We were then shown to our rooms on the second floor. To our mutual dismay,
they were two rooms across the hall from one another, and each even had its
OWN bath! Figuring that I probably wouldn’t get reprimanded (I was the darling
little grandson, after all!), I politely told them that I hadn’t slept alone
in a room since I could even remember. I then launched into a short story
about my time in the Orient, at Dr. Geller’s orphanage, and about how I shared
my room with three other boys at school. “Please, Gran,” I whined, “I don’t
think I can sleep by myself! It’s frightening!” Roddy, of course, saw right
through this. He grinned, but turned away so they’d not see him.
OK, OK, I KNOW it was devious, but I admit, I was afraid to ask them outright.
They seemed so happy to have us there, and I didn’t want to get off on the
wrong foot about our accommodations for the next month and three weeks. Of
course, they caved in at once and ushered us into one of the rooms.
Two rooms? Were they daft?! There was a queen-size bed in there, an
entertainment center, a loveseat and recliner, and a 48” color television!
Having hardly ever had two coins to rub together, I shuddered at the amount of
money that must be sitting in this room! My humble upbringing, I supposed…
“Are you sure you’ll be OK in here, dears?” Gran…Grandma asked us. I began to
wonder if she weren’t going senile? Us, be OK, in here?!
“Maybe you should get some rest?” Grandpa suggested, but we hardly needed
that. We’d slept on the plane, slept at Boston, had cappuccino, been fed
breakfast – heck, we were ready to roar!
The Grands weren’t, however, so we spent the rest of the morning playing video
games and surfing the Dish TV. I kicked my shoes off, and Roddy suggested that
we probably needed a bath. Body odor wasn’t a problem for us, not like intact
boys, but we did feel sort of travel-strained. We found the bathtub in our
‘suite’, since it was that big of a room, really, to be large enough for all
four of our dorm! It was one of those tubs you climb two steps to get into,
and deep enough to sit in with your head underwater! After filling it with as
hot of water as we could stand, and some powerful, bubbly soap, we settled in.
It felt good, after that long flight.
We’d been soaking for about half an hour when there was a knock on the door.
“Boys, are you in there?” Grandfather was calling. “Together?”
I rolled my eyes. “Yes, sir,” I answered, “In the tub?”
He came on in, but averted his eyes. Not that he could see us anyway, deep as
that tub was. “We all shower together at school, sir,” Roddy offered. “We’re
sorry, we didn’t think anything of it?”
“No harm done,” Grandfather nodded, grabbing some towels from the cupboard as
well as a pair of white, hooded terrycloth dressing gowns. He called them
‘bathrobes’. “I showered with other men in the war, you know. Boys and boys
can do that, seeing as how…,” he paused. “You know what I mean?”
“Sir,” Roddy piped up, “I don’t wish to be rude, but you and the Missus simply
MUST stop being so worried about us! We’ve both had our balls out, and that’s
that. Nothing anyone can do about it, and we’re both fine with it, sir. Please
don’t be upset over it?”
“It’s just hard to accept,” Grandfather admitted. “Our only grandchild, lost
to us for the first thirteen years of his life, hell! Don’t even know really
how old you ARE, boy! And then find you, after you mother passed…and find
you’ve been…,” he shook his head. “Oh, Ricky, can you ever forgive us?”
ME, forgive THEM?
What WAS the old man on about?
“If we’d only found you sooner,” he started, but I stopped him.
“Grandpa, you couldn’t have done anything. The laws there said that racially
mixed boys have to get fixed, so they can’t breed. And there’s a LOT of boys
like me there. I was one of the lucky ones, really.” And since it’s one of
those eunuch-things, I started getting all misty and sniffly again. Without
thinking, I stood up and reached for a towel. I was turning into a prune,
after all, and my already-tiny cock had shriveled in the water to nothing more
than a small bump. Grandpa just stared. Roddy cleared his throat and sank down
into the bubbles.
I have to tell you, I’d never seen a grown man cry before, but Grandpa did. He
hugged me in the towel, rubbing my back, and kissed my cheek. I could feel him
trembling as he gently dried me off, and the look on his face was strange as
he held up a robe for me to put on.
“Lunch is about half past twelve,” he finally offered, “You boys just put on
slippers and come on down when you’re of a mind?” And then he left us.
“That was nice,” Roddy said cryptically, as he dried off. His little cock had
shrunk back right up into his body, not visible at all.
“Yeah,” I had to agree. If having a family felt like that, then I thought I
could make the time to come here more often.
By lunchtime, we were starved again (growing eunuchs eat a lot, you know!),
and Gran had put out quite the spread for lunch. It certainly beat the
school’s cafeteria, to which I’d so sorely become accustomed. But it also beat
aid worker food lines, or living off of the land. I swear, I will starve to
death before I ever eat another caterpillar or grub worm again!
As we were coming down the stairs, I overheard them again. My genitals, or
lack thereof, it seemed, still greatly disturbed them.
“Well, Lib, it’s NO wonder the boy pees so much! His poor little cock is so
tiny that I bet the urine can’t get OUT!” Grandpa was saying. “We should call
Dr. Bruce, and at least have his blood sugar checked. No boy should pee that
much!”
I was humiliated, to say the least! There they were, discussing my tiny little
cock! Of all the…
“It IS rather tiny,” Roddy assured me, as if I needed that. Hell, I was a
prepubescent eunuch! What did they expect? A porn star with a 30 cm erection?!
“He DOES eat and drink a lot,” Grandma agreed. “I’ll phone Bruce right now and
have him come over this evening.”
“I think Matron would have caught it if any of us had diabetes,” Roddy assured
me, “Best go along with it? All he’ll do is stick your finger for a drip of
blood. You know Finch, a year behind us? He’s diabetic; just one little prick
is all you need to find out.” We laughed at that.
“You’re forgetting one thing,” I told Roddy, as we came on into the glass-
enclosed dining room with its view of a rolling and landscaped hillside bathed
in the sunlight, “Weight loss!” I grinned, as Grandma served lunch. She’d made
a ham salad from scratch with real Virginia baked ham, dill relish, sweet
onions, and spread it on homemade wheat bread drenched in real butter. She’d
even made French fries (chips) out of real potatoes herself! I could get used
to this, I thought, as we tucked in.
“Oh, dear, I’m sorry,” Grandma apologized, “Talking about you like that. We’re
just worried is all.” Then her face turned serious. “You can’t be too careful!
Cousin Eddie was carried off by a clot,” she snapped her somewhat arthritic
fingers, and Roddy jumped. “Just like THAT!”
“It’s OK, Gran,” I agreed. “I don't mind seeing this Dr. Bruce, really, I
don’t! If it’ll make you feel better?”
That proved to be a mistake on my part.
Gran not only called this ‘Dr. Bruce’, but he came right over just before
dinner. Roddy and I were outside exploring the property, and it had turned
very hot and sticky that afternoon. The AC in the house was beginning to sound
good again, as the both of us were soaked with sweat from just walking about.
I was having a hard time breathing, too. It was like sucking on water vapor.
Didn’t they have an atmosphere in the States?!
Dr. Bruce was, I could tell, NOT a pediatrician. He was at least as old as
Grandfather, and as it turned out, they’d served in the war together. I never
got around to asking if it was World War I or II! But he knew his stuff, I’ll
give him that. We were called in, and he went to work on me at once.
Fortunately, he insisted on Grandpa (not Gran – I think I’d have just died)
being present in the study when he examined me.
“Holy Mary, Mother of God!” Dr. Bruce swore, when I pulled off my underpants.
“I knew they were neutering boys again, but I’ve never actually seen one!” He
gasped, as he had me hop up on a hastily covered desk. I had to ask what
“house call” meant, and why doctors didn’t do that anymore. “Had ‘em taken
right out, did you, Dicky?”
“’Ricky’,” I corrected him, “Yes, sir. When I was about ten, I think. Before I
came to Britain?”
“I knew a fellow in the War who had his cock shot off,” Dr. Bruce reminisced,
“Poor guy. He never was right in the head afterwards,” he went on, as he
leaned down for a better look. He put his hand under my little cock, which had
come back to its full 1” length out in the heat. I thought it rather looked
like a little pink turtle’s head, wearing a snug shower cap!
“Well, seeing as how you’re gelded, it can’t be an enlarged prostate,” Dr.
Bruce diagnosed, as he pulled out a thing like Finch’s called a ‘glucometer’.
He then jabbed my finger and put a drop of blood on a strip. It read out “92”
and beeped. I told him what I had for lunch and when.
“Plump,” he nodded, as he squeezed me here and there. “No, no diabetes,
Wendell. If I had to guess, that tiny little cock of his is kinked up inside,
pinching off the urethra so he can’t empty his bladder all the way. That’s why
he’s going so much. But just to be sure,” he paused, “Ricky, have you ever
had, well, anything put up your backside?”
He was almost embarrassed to ask, and I thought that was funny. I guess they
didn’t know about Matron’s insistence that we eunuchs get at least a weekly
soap-and-water up the bum, so I told them about that. Grandpa seemed stunned
by that. Dr. Bruce didn’t.
“Well, I’m sure my finger isn’t as big as the enema nozzle,” he said, snapping
on a latex glove. “But just to be sure, I want to check your prostate.
Usually, I do this on old men, you know, not little boys! But you’re the first
boy-eunuch I’ve ever examined, Ricky. Now, bend over and spread your cheeks!”
He told me.
I did that.
He was right. His finger was not quite so large as the plug nozzle that Matron
used on us, so we couldn’t leak while holding our enemas in. It was big
enough, though, and I flinched when he touched something up inside of me. It
made me feel like I was about to piss myself, but it felt oddly good at the
same time. I know I clenched up on his finger as he rubbed that something.
“Oh, oh, oh,” I managed, feeling as if I were about to burst. Then he pulled
his finger out.
“Nope, prostate’s quite small,” Dr. Bruce commented.
“What can you do for it, Doc?” Grandpa asked.
“Well, surgery would just ruin his whole summer, that’s for sure,” Dr. Bruce
mused, “We could put in a stent, but that would be about as uncomfortable as a
Foley catheter. Good way to get an infection, too. Other than a urethral
reroute, I’d say his best bet is a Robinson cath at least three times a day,
or each time he goes.”
“Whass’at?” I squeaked. (I tend to squeak a lot when I’m surprised. So does
Simon.)
Dr. Bruce held up a very slim and long latex tube. “You slide this up your
urethra – or peehole – when you have to go. When it starts to feel funny, or
stops, you just relax and push it in gently. It drains your bladder all the
way. Then you let it slide out when it stops flowing. The other type of
catheter stays in you all the time,” he added.
“OK,” I sighed, figuring some discomfort was worth it, if I didn’t have to pee
every hour or so. I was a bit off on that, though, when Dr. Bruce showed me
how to use it. If you’ve never been catheterized before, I can only say this –
don’t be! Matron’s enemas are one thing, but having a tube slid up your
peehole is just…hellish! When it was done, I wanted to cry. It burned some,
and it felt so weird going in and out. I didn’t like it at all, but I hadn’t
come to America just to spend my whole summer laid up in Hospital!
“You’ll get used to it,” Dr. Bruce told me. I didn’t believe that at all.
When the exam was finally over with, Dr. Bruce did take the urine sample with
him to test later. He also drew a bit of blood, and then asked to call
Southdown for my medical records. Matron was in, and said she’d fax them right
over. It must have been late there, but she was still up; Matron never slept,
I don't think.
“Just one more thing, Ricky,” Dr. Bruce said, as I was about to pull up my
shorts. “Did they use that injectable on your balls, or was it surgery?”
“Surgery, sir,” I answered, “Dr. Geller took them right out. It didn’t hurt a
bit!” I said proudly, finding that I somehow missed her and wondered where she
was. No one had seen her since the day before the fire at the Grand Met Hotel.
After all, SHE had been the one to locate my Grandparents, but I think I
mentioned that already?
“Well, you might consider having him circumcised as well, Wendell. That
foreskin of his is a bit tight, you know. Infection just waiting to happen.”
“Roddy’s circumcised, sir,” I offered in a small voice. In fact, Roddy had the
smallest cock in all of our Third Year when I’d first seen him naked. He said
he’d had a bad infection, too, and they’d skinned his little cock down and
even cut out the tiny flap underneath the head. One more little snip, and
Roddy’d have been a perfect harem-eunuch – no NOTHING between his legs! I
shivered. I certainly didn’t want them cutting on me any more than I’d already
been. My little cock might have been useless, but I didn’t want any more of IT
snipped off; of that I was SURE!
“Well, you just keep that little thing clean, and you won’t have a problem,”
Dr. Bruce warned me. “But as soon as you get back to that school of yours, you
tell your Matron that you have to have something done about this urination
problem!”
“Yes, sir,” I nodded, as I pulled my shorts back up and Grandfather dismissed
me.
I didn’t know it then, but once I was gone, Dr. Bruce had asked Grandfather,
“Dr. Geller, the boy said? You don’t think it could be that Dr. Geller over on
14th & Lincoln that specializes in paediatric urology and neutering, do you,
Wendell?”
“How could it be? Ricky was lost in rural Asia, and castrated in an orphans’
home there? How could it be the same woman?” Wendell wondered.
Like I said, I didn’t know it then, but I’d sure come to find out later on!
(Don’t let me get ahead of myself, now. We’ll ruin the story!)
That evening, dressed up in new dark navy blue suits and ties, with fine black
leather dress shoes, we were taken out to eat at a very fancy (and obviously
expensive) restaurant. I’d told Roddy all about my problem in the men’s room,
when we were washing up and HE was peeing. I’d emptied my bladder beforehand
with the catheter. He wasn’t too surprised.
“I think I’ve heard of some boys who had to have something done about
‘internally kinked-up cocks’,” he mused. “You know, I think they cut a new
hole in the base of your cock, down by your arsehole, to let the piss out
faster?”
“Thanks,” I muttered dryly, just as someone coughed. We both jumped.
Apparently, the restroom was already occupied! How embarrassing that we’d been
overheard discussing my need to have a new peehole cut in me. We bolted at
once, dodging behind a large potted palm in the foyer. Even the toilet at this
restaurant had its own foyer! I told you, my Grandparents must have had the
money.
Not daring to be seen until this man came out, we waited.
Finally, after a couple of busboys and a waiter had come and gone, he came out
of the toilet.
Roddy and I both gasped.
It was ‘Autograph-Man’ from the plane ride from London!
“Small world,” Roddy thought aloud, as we watched the man looking all about.
Finally, he checked his watch and moved on.
Then something else came to me.
“Roddy,” I whispered, as we scampered back to our table, “That bathroom was so
big, and all tile! I’m sure he heard your voice!”
Roddy’s face paled. After all, the man HAD some out as if looking all around
for someone. AND he was obviously an audiophile, to boot. That and the
bathroom was a huge echo chamber. Any singer could tell you that.
“You think he recognized my voice?” Roddy gasped, his face pale. After all,
there had been something unnerving about Autograph-Man from the moment we’d
seen him and that young lady on the jet.
I nodded. “I’m sure of it, mate,” I agreed. “We’ve got voices one doesn’t
easily, or soon, forget! Especially not someone who collects our CD’s!”
End of Chapter 1.
Ricky’s & Roddy’s American adventures continue
in Chapter 2,
“The Great American Pastime”
or
“Ricky & Roddy Do America”
* * * |
Separation Anxiety - Part 1 | STRAIGHT, NULLIFICATION, MINOR | A guy loses contact with his, ah, loved ones. | It started in the boys' room at school. I was taking a normal stand-up piss,
and then shaking it off, and then I got a huge erection and it came off.
So there I was, holding my dick and balls in one hand and the flush lever in
the other. How do you react to something like that? At least I didn't drop
'em. But you gotta look, right? So I raised them to eye level, or maybe a
little lower.
There was no blood. The back of my separated package was perfectly covered in
matching skin. I was still erect. No, my cock was still erect. It wasn't part
of me anymore. I couldn't feel what it was feeling. My hand felt warm from it
but I had no sense of what my dick was feeling. A cold hand, I suppose.
"Dude, it happened to you too, huh," said my friend Cliff. His dick had been
falling off for over a month.
"Yeah, well, shit. I wasn't exactly hoping for this. Stop smiling, eh? Shit,
this is weird. Now what do I do?"
"You probably need to shake out your clothes and then go to the nurse," Cliff
suggested.
"What's with my clothes?"
"Don't you itch?" Cliff asked. "Usually your body hair comes loose too. You
probably want to get it out. If you don't do it here, the nurse will make you
do it."
I did itch, and so I headed for a stall.
"You want me to hold that for you?" Cliff offered.
"No, I don't want you holding my dick," I fired back, and then I closed the
stall door.
What to do with it, though? I didn't want to set it on the floor. I could step
on it, or kick it, or somebody could grab it from the next stall. I didn't
want to set it on the toilet. It could fall on the floor or worse yet, I could
flush it. Eventually I wedged it into the toilet paper holder.
My pants, my shorts, and my t-shirt were full of loose hair. More loose hair
was stuck to my skin. I tried to brush it off and when I did, I found that my
skin was as smooth as a girl's, perhaps even more so. Not even peach fuzz on
my arms, my chest, my legs, my… oh shit!
My crotch was hairless too: hairless, dickless, ballless, featureless! And
again there was no blood, just smooth skin matching the surrounding area. I
puked. There I was in a washroom stall, kneeling on my itchy hair-filled
clothes, puking with my dick in the toilet paper holder. I puked again.
Once more I checked out my crotch. Still nothing. I touched it. There was
almost no feeling, certainly no more than touching my waist or hips. No
familiar tightness. No familiar warmth. No itchy balls. Nothing. I almost
cried then told myself to suck it up. If Cliff could stand it, I could stand
it.
Carefully, carefully I shook most of the hair out of my clothes. I was afraid
I'd brush my dick off the toilet paper holder and onto the floor. My jockey
shorts still had lots of hair sticking to them, so I put them on inside-out.
The jockey shorts bulged but I didn't. Shit!
"Are you OK in there?" Cliff asked through the door.
"Yeah, give me a minute," I called back, and then somehow I managed to get the
rest of my clothes back on.
"What do I do with this?" I asked, holding up my newly separated package.
"Uh, I dunno, you got a lunch bag or something with you?"
"No," I stated, and then I looked in my backpack to be sure. I found an old
hamburger wrapper and decided that would have to do.
"You might want to start bringing a bag or a box," Cliff suggested, "assuming,
of course, that you're bringing your bits to school at all."
"Why wouldn't I?"
"Oh, a lot of stuff can happen. Guys try to take it from you, and sometimes
girls, too. You might leave it behind somewhere. Whatever. Uh, look, you
better head over to the nurse. If you get there after the bell, they think
you're up to something."
The idea of leaving the washroom terrified me. What if somebody noticed I
didn't have my stuff? What if they noticed I was flat down there? What if the
hamburger wrapper slipped open? What if my stuff fell out? What about stupid
hot dog jokes?
"Dude, you can't spend the rest of your life in here. Put your stuff in your
backpack, if that's what you're worried about. Just get to the nurse."
"What if I crush it, or if it falls out?" I stammered.
"Chance you gotta take. That's why most guys leave them home. Now go!" Cliff
urged, and so I did.
* * * * *
"My dick and balls came loose," I told the nurse.
"When, this morning? And was it the first time?"
I admitted it was, and then she asked where they were.
"Uh, here, I wrapped 'em up and put 'em in my backpack," I explained.
"Take them out please. Oh yes, I see. Well, I can do better than that," the
nurse promised.
I hoped desperately that she was talking about the wrapper. Presently,
however, she unfolded a paper carton and stuffed the bottom with cotton. It
reminded me of the cartons they use for Chinese carryout. Sheepishly,
carefully I dropped in my package.
"My advice is to leave it here," the nurse told me. "You can pick it up before
you go home. I'll make sure nothing happens to it. Of course, you'll have to
sign a release."
"How can this be happening? I hear that eventually it'll stay back on. Is that
true?" I pleaded.
"No one knows how or why this is happening. The scientists and doctors are
stumped. It seems physically impossible, but it's happening more and more. And
yes, after a few days, it'll stay on for an hour or two -- just long enough to
flush the junk out of its blood. Whenever it's done, it'll get erect and
detach."
"What about sex?" I dared to ask.
"Even when it's disconnected, it'll still be erect," the nurse explained.
"Someone can use it as a dildo, or you can try oral sex with it, or whatever.
There's not much discharge, though, because the prostate gland stays behind.
When it needs a flush it'll attach to almost anyone.
"If you like, you can let someone else try it out. Blood types don't matter.
You can even let girls try it. But if you do pass it around, be careful.
Sometimes they're hard to find again or get back."
"So if I leave my stuff here, how do I walk around school?"
"Like normal," the nurse replied in surprise. "Right, left, right, left. How
did you think?"
"What if somebody notices I don't have a bulge?"
"Then they know you're like a lot of other guys. Some people like it and wear
flat-fronted jeans or bicycle shorts. Some are even wearing kilts. Don't worry
about it."
"How do I go to the bathroom?"
"Sitting down, and be sure to wipe. Do you want me to show you?"
"No, that's OK," I replied, and then the nurse wrote my name on the top of my
little carton and set it on a table full of others. Finally, she gave me a
note for returning to class.
"Oh, and Troy?" she called as I was leaving.
"Yes?"
"I realize there's no reason to zip up your fly anymore, but it's still
customary to do it."
* * * * *
"Dude, did you get squared away?" Cliff asked between periods.
"Yeah, but I still feel weird walking around without my stuff. How do you
stand it?"
"You get used to it," he replied. "After a while, it seems more comfortable.
You forget how sensitive it is, and how much it flops around."
"Do people notice?"
"Yeah, sure, but they also notice your height, your weight, your hair, your
eyes, lots of stuff. It's pretty common, you know."
True, I suppose it was, but I never really noticed it. I mean, what guy walks
around looking at other guys' crotches? And although I'd known guys' packages
were falling off, I'd been happier not thinking about it.
That day, however, dickless guys seemed to be everywhere. Some were dressed
normally and some in flat-front jeans or shorts. One guy seemed to be wearing
a tight little pair of white lycra short shorts. A few guys did have kilts on,
although at least one looked more like a plaid skirt from the girls'
department. I wondered how many guys had been dressing that way, and for how
long, and how I'd missed them. It's funny how you zero in on people like
yourself.
* * * * *
"Hi, Troy, did you have a good day at school?" my mom greeted me at home.
"Yeah, except my dick fell off," I glumly reported.
"Oh my, can I see?" she responded, and that was kind of weird.
"OK, it's right here. I've got it in… Oh shit! I left it at school!" I nearly
screamed.
"Why don't you call and see if you can still pick it up?" she suggested.
I did, but by then the nurse had gone home and her office was locked. Shit!
"Well, I guess it'll be a couple of days before you can reattach it anyway.
I'm sure it'll be safe in the nurse's office."
"Yeah, but Mom, I don't have my stuff!" I complained.
"According to my talk shows it's happening to a lot of boys. It happens to
Cliff, right? I'm sure you'll be OK. Do you want some new clothes that won't
be so, um, empty?"
"No. Mom, I'm not into that," I stated, and then I went to my room to drown my
sorrows and jerk off. Unfortunately, that didn't work out so well.
* * * * *
My dad was travelling on business so Mom was free to cook spicy Italian.
Dinner, therefore, was Italian sausage and meatballs. I really wasn't in the
mood but ate it anyway. After dinner Mom went out shopping and then, at about
eight o'clock, a girl named Noreen called me. I knew her vaguely from a youth
group we'd been in together.
"Hi, Troy! How's it going? It seems like ages since we talked," she began
melodiously.
"Uh, yeah, I guess it has been," I admitted. Frankly, I'd never liked her that
much. She looked OK but she'd always been snooty with me and her parents were
very strict.
"So what's new?" she inquired sweetly.
"Not that much," I lied, and then she paused.
"I heard your dick fell off today," she stated flatly.
"Who told you that?" I knew she hadn't noticed my new flatness herself. We
went to different schools.
"I heard it from a friend of mine, whose sister heard it from someone at her
school, who might've heard it from Cliff, or not. That's your friend, right?
Cliff? I seem to remember you guys."
"Uh, yeah," I admitted. Cliff the blabbermouth. "So what?"
"Well, can I borrow it?"
I didn't feel like telling her I'd left it at school, so instead I asked, "Why
would you want it?"
"My friend Mandy is here and we want to fool around. So could we borrow it?
We'll give it back tomorrow, promise."
"Why didn't you make this offer last year, when we knew each other better?"
"My dad won't let me fool around with boys," Noreen explained.
"But loose dicks are OK?" I asked in disbelief.
"Yeah, since when do parents make sense, huh? Anyway, they only spurt a little
bit and we always put condoms on them. So can we borrow it?"
"Look, Noreen, this is all new to me. I'd rather keep my stuff where I know
what's happening to it."
"You could stay and watch," she offered.
"I thought your dad doesn't let you fool around with boys."
"It's OK if they don't have their dicks on," she explained.
"Naw, I gotta wash my hair tonight," I improvised, and then she hung up.
* * * * *
Shortly after nine my mom came home with two pairs of flat-fronted blue jeans
and a six-pack of cotton low-rise no-fly briefs. There were no back pockets,
the front pockets were clearly for show, and the zipper was conspicuously on
the side. I worried about taking them off to pee, but then remembered I'd have
to anyway.
"I dunno, Mom. What if my stuff sticks on tomorrow?"
"The man at the store said it takes two or three days," she responded a bit
too brightly, "and even then, it's only for a few hours. Why spend those hours
sitting in English class or whatever?"
"Mom, you're always telling me not to do anything," I objected.
"Did you ever listen?" she replied.
* * * * *
Later I brushed my teeth, went to pee, went into shock, remembered, and grimly
sat down. Usually I slept in boxers but the useless fly was kind of sad. After
a while I took them off. The covers felt strange against my newly hairless
skin. I missed jerking off. Eventually, though, I did get to sleep. Being on
my stomach was remarkably comfortable.
* * * * *
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e-mail via the link below.
* * * |
Gelded Schoolboys in Hong Kong | GAY, TESTICLES | Two schoolboys fell in love and gelded each other. | Hong Kong is a beautiful city in the south of China. Once upon a time, there
was a boy named Philip who knew history very well. He read many about the
eunuchs in Chinese history. Emperors in the past employed castrated men to
work in the palace. Philip was so interested in castartions and wanted to try
one.
Not late after his dream began, he met another boy in his boys' school called
Henry. Henry was not tall as Philip, about 5'4", while Philip has 5'9". Both
of them had lovely white and smooth faces and skins.
Once they were making a floating board for the school in a room which very few
students knew that place. They talked about sex when they were bored. Henry
who is very curious about sex asked if Philip would show his penis. And his
hand came to Philip's private part at the same time. Philip did not stop him
and let his little smooth hand undo the zip down there. Henry was amazed by
Philip's large penis - about 7 inches long (that was very long for an Asian
boy) ! Philip's face grew red and said, 'Show me yours.' He undid Henry's zip
and took out his 4-inch long soft penis. 'You lovely little girl,' Philip
said. And he began to suck it - this was the first time for both of them.
Enjoying so much last time, Henry called Philip to 'work on the board' again.
This time, Henry sucked Philip's penis too. Both of them enjoyed so much and
shooted quite a load of seeds.
After months, although the board was finished long time ago, Philip and Henry
had oral sex in the secret room for times and times. They often stripped
themselves naked, fondled and sucked each other. Both of them had no hair down
there, just like most of the 14-year-old boys did.
Once Philip asked Henry who was naked lying on the table, 'Do you know about
the eunuchs?' Henry nodded. Philip said, 'Do you want babies ever after?'
Henry shook his head. Philip then took out some thick rope to tie Henry's arms
and legs up. He sucked Henry for the last time and licked every drop of his
seeds. Philip himself shooted too. And then he took out a paper-cutter which
was given by the school for making the board originally.
Philip asked for the last time, 'Are you sure you want to be cut?' Henry
smiled and nodded. Philip cut down Henry's sack in a whole. Henry did not make
any big noise but blood ran down at once. Bleding stopped soon after the wound
was bandaged. Philip who was standing naked in front of Henry said happily to
him, 'Congratulations my little girl!'
Few days later, Henry's wound was completely recovered. In the room, Henry
stripped himself naked and knelt down in front of Philip. Philip who was naked
also sucked him and made Henry masturbate. Henry felt the orgasm but only a
few drops of clear liquid came out slowly out of his halfly erected penis.
Philip was very happy to see Henry able to erect after gelded. Henry who was
still on his knees said, 'Master, do you need me?' Philip replied, 'Of course,
my little girl.' They then slept together in that room until the night came.
Another few days later, Philip was bored of playing with little eunuch Henry.
He asked Henry to geld him the same as last time. Henry cried but did as told.
He tied up Philip, cut off his sack and bandaged the wound.
Philip tried masturbation after recovered. Henry knelt down and sucked his
penis. Soon Philip shooted a little amount of clear liquid as Henry. They
kissed each other's penis to celebrate. 'Welcome, my dear sister and
mistress.' Henry cried. They then slept together naked in that room again
until the night came.
Since then Philip and Henry became good sisters and mistress & servant. They
often sucked each other's limp penises in the secret room. Occasionally Philip
let Henry become the mistress. But anyway, Philip was always the ruler.
Months passed and every regarded the two gelded boys as 'girlish and shy'
only, but did not notice anything. Until the summer camp, all boys in their
class had shower together in the same bathroom. One screamed with surprise,
'Look, Henry had no balls down there!' And another one replied loudly, 'Philip
had no balls too!' Every pair of eyes were concentrating at the private parts
of them. The naked Philip & Henry standed on the middle bench proudly,
allowing everyone see & touch their remaining genitals and the wounds. They
announced loudly, 'This is what a boy should do to purify himself!' Thje crowd
laughed. Getting hot and erected, the boys masturbated themselves in the
bathroom. And Philip & Henry sucked each other as they did every day. The boys
left all their clothes in the bathroom and went back to the sleeping rooms
naked - don't worry because that was a private boys' camp with no adults
around.
The boys got dressed finally three days after when the camp was about to end.
They said goodbye to Philip, Henry and another 4 boys who responded the
announcement and 'purified' themselves by losing their manhood.
After the event, the six 'girlish and shy' boys stayed in the school with all
the boys for another four years. No one told others the secret and they went
to camp for fun every year. Four more boys joined Philip & Henry later. But
only the two of them knew the secret room, while the other eight had to wait
for the annual camp or play at home. All of the ten geldings now grew as girls
after taking hormones. And everyone will not forget Philip & Henry's girlish
naked body with no hair and no balls down there but two limp, soft and little
penises. ---END---
* * * |
Un castigo ejemplar | TESTICLES, MINOR | Mi tio decide darle un castigo ejemplar a mi primo | ` Soy médico de urgencias, hace unos días recibí la llamada de mi tío, quien
quería hablar conmigo de un asunto personal. Nos reunimos dos días después y
me contó que su hijo mayor de 16 ańos ya no atendía ninguna de las reglas de
la casa y cada día era mas rebelde, llegaba en ocasiones borracho a la casa y
hacia escándalos, sus dos hermanos menores de 13 y 10 ańos estaban siguiendo
el ejemplo por lo que quería ponerle fin de una vez por todas a su
comportamiento. El quería darle un castigo ejemplar y que nunca lo olvidara y
que a la vez sirviera de ejemplo para sus otros hijos. Yo pregunte que quería
hacer y que tenia que ver en el asunto, el me dijo que lo que quería hacer con
mi primo era castrarlo y quería que yo lo hiciera, para que no hubiera
riesgos, no podía recurrir a otro médico pues no aceptarían tal procedimiento
en un joven sano. Obviamente a mi me pareció un castigo muy drástico y me
negué ha hacerlo, me parecía algo muy cruel, no acepte definitivamente, pero
el me dijo que ya estaba decidido con su esposa y esto lo iba a hacer como
fuera, y que si yo no le ayudaba un amigo que castraba animales lo haría
gustoso, inclusive por una pequeńa cantidad de dinero. Yo se como son las
castraciones de animales de la granja, y créanme que su amigo no tiene muy
buenas condiciones de higiene, y si con los potros era cruel, no imagino que
le esperaría a mi pobre primo. Después de dos semanas de tratar de persuadir a
mi tío de su loca idea, y de ver que el castigo no tenia marcha atrás, decidí
considerar las castración de mi primo y aceptar realizarla, prefería que si ya
no había otras opción, era mejor ser castrado por un médico que por un
castrador de animales (aunque confieso que debe tener mas experiencia que yo
castrando machos). Se fijó la fecha para una semana, obviamente solo sabíamos
lo que iba a pasar mi tío, su esposa y yo. Mi primo al cual no veía hacia como
cuatro ańos seguía con su comportamiento y dando mas razones para lo que le
iba a pasar.
Pasé toda la semana estudiando como castrarlo y aunque al principio no me
gusto la idea, terminé ansioso por la llegada del pequeńo castigo para mi
querido primo.
Llegado el sábado en que se llevaría a cavo el plan, fui muy temprano al
rancho de mi tío, como lo habíamos pactado, mis primos estaban en casa hasta
ahora levantándose, habían crecido mucho desde la ultima vez que nos vimos, mi
primo mayor, era alto, con un cuerpo atlético muy musculoso, ojos azules y
cabello rubio, un muy buen espécimen humano que no sabia lo que le esperaba.
Para poder controlarlos, en el desayuno les habían puesto un somnífero de modo
que luego del desayuno fue fácil llevarlos al cuarto. A mi primo mayor atamos
firmemente a la cama, mis otros primos los sentamos y amarramos a sillas que
fueran colocadas al lado de la cama para que pudieran ver el espectáculo.
Luego de una hora empezaron a despertar y todo estaba listo, se preguntaban
que pasaba y porque estaban amarrados. Mi tío les explico porque estaban ahí y
reiteró con una sonrisa sarcástica que hoy aprenderían una gran lección,
sobretodo el mayor. Yo ya no podía esperar estaba ansioso por hacer mi
trabajo.
Mi tío con un cuchillo empezó rompiendo la camiseta de mi primo y luego el
pantalón, Sin ropa se le veía aun mejor cuerpo, digno de la envidia de
cualquier hombre, finalmente cuando rompió su boxer dejo ver un gran un gran
pene y sus testículos colgaban pesadamente, pocas veces había visto bolas tan
grandes. Por fin la noticia, por su mal comportamiento y lo que consideraban
irrespeto a sus padres seria castrado como a un perro al que se quiere
dominar. En la habitación solo se escuchaban grito y llanto, y así empecé mi
trabajo.
Por Internet había encontrado una pagina de historias de castración y guiado
por esta decidí que si mi primo iba a ser un eunuco por lo menos lo dejaría
disfrutar se su ultimo placer, procedí a afeitarlo, logrando hacer crecer
levemente su gran pene y luego a masturbarlo, su miembro cada vez era mas
grande y llego a medir 25cm, luego de una gran excitación dejo salir furiosos
chorros de semen llegando al éxtasis total.
Luego de limpiarlo procedí a lavar su ingle con jabón quirúrgico y a colocarme
guantes estiles, cuando iba a colocar la anestesia, mi tío fue rotundo que
esto era un castigo y debería estar acompańado de dolor, a mi me daba igual,
en ese momento yo solo pensaba ver sus bolas en una bandeja.
Ya había decidido que también quitaría su bolsa, así que empecé cortando
cuidadosamente alrededor de esta, el sangrado era poco, llegue al final y la
retiré, no pensé que fuera tan fácil esto, sus grandes testículos cayeron
pesadamente, ya estaban desnudos ya no había quien los protegiera. Procedí a
tomar el derecho en mi mano, la más ligerara presión aumentaba el dolor y los
gritos de mi agobiado primo. Procedí a ligar los cordones y cortarlo, mostré
el testículo desprendido a los espectadores, mis primos menores estaban
cayados, solo miraban con lágrimas en los ojos y apretaban fuertemente las
piernas. Luego hice lo mismo con el testículo izquierdo y lo corté, ya no
había nada que hacer, los días de virilidad de mi primo quedaban atrás, ahora
seria como un manso buey. Las heridas fueron suturadas cuidadosamente, de mi
primo solo se oían sollozos suaves, mi tío, tomo los testículos y obligó a mi
primo a besarlos como ultimo recuerdo de lo que tuvo. Todos fueron soltados,
ya no tenian fuerzas para resistirse.
Luego de dar las recomendaciones a mi tío y a su esposa, volví a la semana a
ver como iba, la recuperación de mi paciente, todo iba muy bien, las heridas
estaban sanas por lo que retiré las suturas, mi primo estaba cayado, en su
cuarto, sumiso, lo note algo deprimido, pero después de ser castrado no
esperábamos verlo feliz.
Mi tío conservó los testículos y el escroto en alcohol y lo coloco en el
cuarto de mi primo para que siempre recordara el respeto a sus padres.
Con el paso del tiempo su sumisión hacia sus padres fue total, y sus hermanos
después de ver lo que les podía pasar, también se entregaron a la sumisión
total.
Yo sigo con mi trabajo y siguiendo la evolución de mi primo eunuco, al parecer
mi tío esta pensando en la penectomia ya que sin testículos para que un pene,
estoy pendiente de su llamada.
* * *
` |
Lucy | WARNING, MINOR, Clitoridectomy | Agnes’ smallest wants to join the Dollies, the bloody way. Lucy’s cousins Cassie and Sylvie save her, minus some body parts. | ‘I don’t believe it!’
‘I tell you, she’s six months pregnant, swaddling around like a happy goose,
red cheeks, goofy smile …’
‘Alex never had a goofy smile.’
‘Now she has.’
Ivana shook her head in surprise lying on the couch in Mandy’s huge house,
whose cellar and attic kept so many pain- and joyful memories. Cassie holding
her former cheerleading squad member in her arms was playing with Ivana’s long
brown hair, destroying her Ukrainian angel’s crown in the process, a relic of
her long stay in her ancestors’ homeland.
‘But she always told us that Greg has this huge cock. Did Mandy cut her open?’
‘Oh no, that was the funny thing. She was visiting from college and meeting up
with Susie and her husband Greg …’
‘They married? Gee, I missed everything over there. That was something I never
quite figured out, I mean Greg was Alex’s boyfriend and than she was ok with
her best friend taking him in, when they broke up?’
‘Wasn’t really a break up, more a drifting apart, she off to college, he stuck
here, after he lost his scholarship with the accident during the last game …’
‘That really sucked.’
‘… working in his father’s carpentry, visiting Susie in her little whore house
regularly. So one thing led to the other …’
‘She still has that beautiful old house?’
Cassie had finished unbraiding her, stroking her beautiful brown hair,
massaging Ivana’s scalp like they did each other in sisterly commiseration,
when they nurtured their freshly cut and closed pussies three years ago.
‘Oh yeah, and more money than you can think off. She only takes in Dollies,
who are eager to earn a little extra in their spare time and after Greg has
trained them. I tell you, people book three months in advance and can’t get
enough of these sexless girls.’
‘All anal service, I assume.’
‘Like in our times, with the difference that these girls actually enjoy
themselves as they still have their G-spots.’
‘Well, I’ll be mad with Mandy till the end of my days that only the next bunch
of girls had their pee holes protected with ceramic shields. You remember?
Twenty one girls going to the slaughter.’
‘Crazy. The robot was glowing red after that day.’
‘A squad of twenty five Dollies with two stunt groups, what a show. I never
thought we really could make it and win the state championship a second time.
You outdid yourself, Cassie.’
Ivana had started to return the favor and massaged Cassie’s feet and calves,
her look now and then turned towards Cassie’s empty crotch. They had shed
their clothes the moment they had entered Mandy’s house. For Ivana it was like
a ritual of remembrance as they had spent many naked hours healing between
these walls.
‘Ah, stop sucking up to me, we all did it. And I had a great predecessor and
teacher.’
‘You mean Alex? By the way, you never finished her story.’
‘Her story? Oh yeah, Alex’s denouement. Well, they had this drunken reunion
party and suddenly she blurred out that she always dreamed that Greg would
take her virginity, at least that’s how Susie told me. And the next minute
Greg forces his huge cock into her small hole, tearing her apart, she
screaming like a wounded animal, Susie laughing her head off, blood
everywhere, not the least from his back, where her claws left deep scars. And
it seems she had the only orgasm since her cutting and it must have been
something, as, Susie said, she was flapping around on the bed like a dying
fish.’
‘What a fucked up way to finish one’s education.’
Ivana couldn’t believe her eyes: There was a wet spot forming between Cassie’s
legs. How could she still produce so much fluid with her urethral glands
destroyed? Perhaps she was ripe today and her cervix worked overtime. Long
past was the time when, as the Dollies, their rhythms were synchronized and
knowing your own state of fertility told you everything about your
girlfriends’.
‘Oh no, she’s continuing with college and as soon as the baby is here, she’s
gonna leave it with Susie and Greg.’
‘That sounds more like Alex: always the tough one.’
‘I don’t know, she was crying her heart out when she was telling me. But then
again it might have been Mandy’s needle work, as Alex wanted her to sew her
shut till the birth. It seems she wasn’t too fond of her torn up pussy and
prefers to have that small Dollies hole like before.’
‘I see you’re still got yours closed:’
Ivana couldn’t resist anymore and stroked Cassie’s flat crotch, the scar
barely noticeable till she reached the small hole to plunge her small finger
into the warm crevice, only to reappear seconds later covered in gluey white,
which she eagerly smelled and tasted. Their new sexuality after their near
total nullification had brought them all closer to Tina’s proclivities, even,
if asked, they would deny any lesbian tendencies.
‘Yeah, I couldn’t be bothered, after all I prefer anal anyway.’
‘Don’t tell me, you can get off on it.’
‘Seldom. It depends. If I’m horny like today and a guy has a really long dick,
he might manage to hit my A spot right through the anal and vaginal walls. And
if he has enough stamina, he actually could set off one of these long, never
ending, back-of your-head-lifting orgasms, which keep on burning for hours
after the fucking stops.’
‘That’s a lot of ifs.’
‘Yeah, I know, and the guys who can do this, they’re not the types, who stick
around for long.’
Cassie had started to tenderly touch Ivana’s empty chest.
‘I still can’t believe that you really cut them off.’
‘I told you, it was the prize to pay to get close to them.’
‘You should have used the robot, the scars would be much smoother.’
Ivana’s face had darkened.
‘They were not happy that my pussy was already modified, so they insisted that
I do the breasts in front of them.’
‘You did it yourself?’
Ivana’s lips were trembling, her eyes filling.
‘They had prepared an old blunt kitchen knife and an iron, which didn’t seem
to get enough electricity. So after cutting off my left breast I had to keep
it pressed against my chest for at least a minute to stop the bleeding, my
flesh slowly cooking. By this time I had peed myself, so I landed in that
mess, when I collapsed, nearly breaking my toes with the iron …’
Cassie had taken Ivana into her arms. Ivana whispered into her shoulder, her
tears running down Cassie’s breasts, whose nipple stumps were erect in
sympathy with the destruction of Ivana’s wonderful specimens.
‘That’s why you have this red spot on top of your foot.’
‘The two young girls, which were with the head of the monastery, finally
helped me up. There was pity and contempt in their eyes. They wore these thin
white shifts and lying on the ground I could look straight up them. They were
not older than fourteen and both of them were nullified. One whispered
something like “Be Strong”. When I was half way through my second breast I
pleaded with them to help me. I saw they had tears in their eyes, but when one
of them looked up to the Prior, he just grunted and they both turned their
eyes to the ground. I can’t remember, how I managed to continue, but obviously
I did. I woke up lying in a pool of shit, pee and blood. My clothes had gone
and instead there was a mop, a bucket with water and a white shift, my new
uniform. When I had finished cleaning the place they brought me to my new
cell, where I spend many days and nights screaming into my pillow from pain
and loss. An old lady nursed me finally to health. The Prior came, gave me one
of their crosses and told me that my family’s debt had been paid and I was now
one of the White Doves.’
‘How did they know, who you are?’
Ivana had sat up, playing longingly with Cassie’s nipple stumps.
‘That’s the crazy thing. It took many months, till I got access to their
library, even longer to gain their trust, but one thing became finally clear.
They are more numerous than we all think. There are Skoptsy here in town and
they were observing my family the whole time, just waiting for the right
moment. They probably know I’m with you now. They only let me go, so I will
help them over here to increase their numbers through proselytizing and
otherwise “convincing” especially young boys and girls to join them. If I were
you, I really would try to find out, what happened with your aunt.’
It was obvious that Cassie liked the attention to her nipples as her hips
started to make swaying movements.
‘Shsh. Lucy is upstairs. I don’t want her to get even more worried. We haven’t
heard from her mother for more than a year now.’
‘Hi! Two naked beauties, all for me I assume.’
’Sylvie!’
Ivana hugged Cassie’s sister, her former wild haired self now reformed into
the cliché of a feminist academic. Sylvie held her at arm’s length, looking at
Ivana’s flat chest, shaking her head.
‘What a sacrifice!’
Her voice thick, a sob of compassion stuck in her throat. Another hug, a sigh,
a finger trailing Cassie’s cheek in sisterly affection.
‘We didn’t hear the car, we didn’t hear the door …’
‘No wonder, you were probably engrossed in the many things to tell …’
‘We were just talking about Lucy.’
Sylvie’s sorrowful look turned towards the staircase.
‘Did you see her yet?’
‘No, she’s probably hiding in her room again.’
Ivana looked confused.
‘What’s going on with her? She was this, well weird, but still lively girl …’
‘I think just puberty. It hit her early, like with me as well …’
‘But she’s what? Twelve?’
Sylvie had shed her coat and laptop bag.
‘Eleven actually. I’ll check on her.’
‘What happened with Lydia, did she stay in town?’
Cassie’s question stopped Sylvie’s ascent of the stairs.
‘Who’s Lydia?’
‘You remember Sylvie’s Africa stories? The German girl?’
‘Oh yeah, the fisting expert. What, she’s here? Why?’
Sylvie had rejoined them.
‘Visiting. Just as a tourist. I showed her around town and then we met Tina
and they two really hit it off, so Tina is bringing her home later. Gee, it’s
hot in here, who put the heating high like that?’
Sylvie started to loose the rest of her clothes.
‘Maria coming along too?’
‘Probably. You know these two, where there’s Tina there’s Maria.’
‘Still inseparable. Who would have thought? I mean Tina … that’s clear, but
Maria …’
‘Who kept falling in love with one guy after the other …?’
‘Till they found out, they couldn’t fuck her …’
‘And then she fell for the one, who was standing beside her all the time …’
‘It just happened to be a woman.’
Ivana and Cassie reminisced, their common Dollies history still shaping their
lives.
‘And Tina went from Mary to Maria.’
Sylvie was stretching lasciviously, naked, feeling liberated after one hard
day in the town archive, trying to get to grips with her research on the
circumcision rituals in the area.
‘That’s mean, Sylvie. Better never mention Tina’s first love to her.’
‘She’s still looking for her?’
‘Yeah, I think so, Maria is even helping her. It’s not so much that she still
loves her; it’s just finding closure, I think.’
‘I’ll better see for Lucy.’
‘Why did she come back to this God forsaken place? You told me anthropological
research institutions all over the world were ready to hire her, so why here?’
Ivana was whispering to Cassie as Sylvie had disappeared upstairs.
‘I don’t know. I think, she needed some time out, I mean she studied really
hard; you don’t become best of class by going to keg parties every night. And
to some degree that’s the advantage of being cut, we’re not distracted so
much. But if you ask me, she’s quite worried about Mom.’
‘Worried?’
‘… that she would want to join Aunt Agnes.’
‘And rightly so …’
‘Lucy’s not in her room.’
Sylvie came back, a gnawing feeling in her stomach creasing her beautiful
forehead.
‘You didn’t hear the backdoor or anything?’
‘What happened with the other girl?’
Ivana was unfazed by Sylvie’s worry for her niece.
‘What …?’
‘This Spanish girl or Italian …’
Sylvie’s determination to find Lucy was compromised by her confusion.
‘She’s talking about Africa, Sylvie.’
‘Ah, you mean Mila. That’s a really sad story. But …’
‘Look in the cellar.’
‘But she’s not supposed to go there.’
‘So …’
‘Ok, I get your point.’
Sylvie disappeared towards the place, where the Dollies saw their creation.
‘What’s sad about this Mila?’
‘You remember she was fleeing from her father?’
‘Yeah, hiding in this mission in Africa …’
‘Well, her father found her and brought her back to Italy and …’
‘It’s locked. She must be somewhere else.’
Sylvie had returned.
‘I wouldn’t be too sure, check for the key, in the left cupboard in the
kitchen, under the towels. Mandy still has the illusion, Lucy wouldn’t find it
there. …So back in Italy her father discovers that she’s not a virgin anymore
and goes berserk. He basically nullified her by sticking her into this stiff
rubber suit, treated her with hormones, so she started lactating, and then
forced her to live on her own milk and …’
‘What? Pee?’
Cassie’s pointed finger towards her own empty crotch spoke more than words.
‘Can’t find the key.’
‘Told you, she’s in there. The second key is in my trousers. No, not in my
knickers.’
‘How come you still smell like real pussy?’
Sylvie still had a thing for Cassie’s panties.
‘Yeah, I also wondered. She leaves spots all over this sofa with her leaking
little hole.’
There was jealousy in Ivana’s voice. Sylvie disappeared again.
‘How you know all that?’
‘When Sylvie lost contact with her, she pestered Dad till he agreed to have
some of his colleagues in Italy check on Mila. And just in time. When they
found her she was lying next to her dead father, nearly dead herself. It never
became clear if he died of a heart attack or if she somehow managed to kill
him. It was all hushed up and she lives in a mental hospital now. Sylvie wants
to visit her, when her professor takes her along to this WHO conference on
“Genital mutil…”’
‘Cassie, Cassie …’
The panic in Sylvie’s voice had the girls running down the stairs in seconds.
The view froze their hearts. Under the harsh lights of Mandy’s surgical lamps
sat Lucy in the old gyn chair, her feet in stirrups, her torso painted in red
meanders, her face dotted with bloody streaks, her mouth slack, all
consciousness gone. Sylvie was trying to wake her, her pleading sobs achieving
the fluttering of Lucy’s eye lids. Cassie was running to the other side of the
chair, when a look between Lucy’s legs stopped her in her tracks. Blood was
seeping from deep wounds on both sides of her small pussy. The blades of the
kitchen scissors were stuck on top, imbedded in her outer lips, her hood and
small lips bulging out.
‘Jesus, what did this girl do?’
‘That’s obvious, she tried to become one of the Dollies.’
Ivana’s clear head contrasted with Sylvie’s crying and Cassie’s despair.
‘Ok, I’ll get the phone. We have to ask Mandy for advice. I’m sure there is
disinfectant and water down here, you start getting the blood off her, Cassie,
so we can see where the damage really is.’
When Ivana was back, Cassie was finishing cleaning Lucy’s face, while Sylvie
was feeding her little sips to drink. Lucy’s tired looking eyes were full of
remorse and pain.
‘Ok girl, what got into your crazy little head, cutting yourself up like
this.’
Ivana took over from Sylvie, while Lucy’s cousin frantically worked on the
phone.
‘Hi, Ivana.’
Lucy managed a faint whisper and an even fainter smile. She lifted her bloody
fingers and touched Ivana’s scarred chest.
‘Beautiful.’
‘Don’t get any ideas. Enough cutting for one day I would say.’
Cassie was tidying Lucy’s torso and it became clear that although the binding
hadn’t been strong enough, the bleeding from her tiny nipple stumps had
stopped by now.
‘Mandy. God, finally …already at the airport … surprise? … Ok, sorry to
interrupt you, but we have something of a surprise as well and I’m afraid not
a good one, Lucy cut herself and …No reason to panic, we just have to …finish
…’
‘Where is she?’
Ivana’s attempt to plod out Sylvie’s discussion as well as Cassie’s mumbled ‘I
can’t stop the bleeding’, emanating between Lucy’s legs, where any touch had
Lucy crunching up her face, was rather obvious, but worked.
‘She’s with Aunt Christine at this circumciser conference.’
Lucy’s voice had gained in strength.
‘What’s your mother doing there?’
Cassie’s confusion about Ivana’s small talk was only matched by her
cluelessness, how to help her little cousin, while Sylvie was running around
in the background looking for something, whispering into Cassie’s mobile.
‘They are lovers, what you expect. They can’t keep their hands off each other.
I gather Mandy took my mother’s place in my aunt’s life.’
Cassie looked dumbfounded at Lucy’s lucid reply, which she had been supposed
to give herself.
‘Got it. Ok, the drawer is open, which one …’
‘The one in the middle.’
‘Yeah, that was Lucy. Do you want to speak with … We should better hurry. Ok.
See ya.’
Sylvie took out a gleaming scalpel.
‘The cauterizing iron is in the cupboard below the drawer, you better start
heating it up.’
The three women couldn’t believe their ears, when this half conscious eleven
year old started to give them instructions.
‘If only Mandy hadn’t used a new hiding place for the key, I’ll be finished by
now and this stupid scissors wouldn’t be stuck in my cunt. Can you pass me the
towel? It’s fallen …’
‘It’s all bloody, don’t you want a new one?’
Cassie had found it on the floor, her own feet slick with Lucy’s blood and
other body fluids.
‘That’s fine, I like to taste my own blood.’
Lucy’s matter of fact approach couldn’t fool Cassie. There was a shaking in
Lucy’s voice and her eyes flickered with fright that the pain would be too
strong again, the reason, why in the end she had failed to castrate herself.
‘Ok Lucy, you’re not alone now, Ivana and I, we will hold your hands, and we
will all scream and shout and breathe through it, ok?’
Lucy’s tears showed that the pain must have been already unbearable and she
duly started sobbing, when Sylvie made the first cuts by lifting the half
severed outer lips, trying to be as fast and at the same time as meticulous as
possible, which wasn’t easy with the blood blocking the view. Cutting upwards
she finished just where the scissor blades had eaten into Lucy’s pussy.
Starting again on top she went under the blades close to the skin separating
the rest of Lucy’s pouch, circumscribing the one little piece of nerves, she
had promised herself to cut the last. Lucy’s sobs had turned to screams, the
towel no protection anymore against the ear piercing noise.
‘Cassie, Ivana, the scissors!’
Following Mandy’s instructions the scissors should be kept in till the last
minute as the bleeding would increase by their removal. Clinging to Lucy’s
hands, wiping away their own tears, they opened the scissors together the same
moment that Sylvie made the final cut, separating Lucy’s clit from her body.
Her breathing stopped in mid-scream, Cassie’s and Ivana’s worry deepened by
her glazed stare. Reaching for the cauterizing iron Sylvie halted for a moment
mesmerized by the pulsing little hole, now visible in a plain of raw flesh
oozing blood, Lucy’s mangled pouch lying in juxtaposition on her rippling
belly. It seemed impossible but Lucy’s screams re-started and increased in
intensity, when the iron touched her open wounds till with one final shriek
she lost consciousness as well as the last remnants of her clit.
‘Finally. I thought she’s gonna break my hand:’
Ivana’s time with the Skoptsy had hardened her. Cassie was just shaking her
head, tears still running down her face, stroking Lucy’s face.
‘If I remember correctly, you both did a lot of pussy stitching during your
Dollies time, so your turn now. I’ll check her breathing.’
First setting the catheter and then taking turns stitching, it took them half
an hour to close that little de-sexed pussy, making sure that the remaining
hole wasn’t bigger than a little finger and that the scar would be as
beautiful as their own. They were just about to carry Lucy to her room, when
they heard a car approaching the house.
‘That’s not Mandy.’
Laying Lucy down on the couch in the living room, they looked out the window.
The wiry, severe looking lady, which exited the black, tinted windowed van,
was dwarfed by the four bulky men joining her.
‘Skoptsy:’
Ivana’s blunt statement carried sufficient menace to have them run to the
doors and windows to check their firm closure. Cassie just managed to bolt the
backdoor, before someone threw his considerable weight against it.
‘Do you have any weapons?’
‘Just that.’
‘Your phone?’
‘Ououou.’
Lucy had just woken up at the worst moment. With Cassie typing into her phone
and Sylvie having disappeared into the cellar, it was Ivana, who tried to calm
her. She was about to help her walk up the stairs, each step a sob of agony,
when the front door flew into the room and the group of five made their
sinister entrance. With a move of her head the woman ordered one of the giants
in the direction of Ivana, when suddenly Sylvie re-appeared throwing one of
the scalpels. Grunting in a high voice he pulled the knife from his thigh, not
even flinching when the second one missed him. Closing his puffy paws around
Sylvie’s neck he oversaw the third one, which seconds later propelled by
Sylvie’s mortal agony stuck in his jaw to the hilt, the only visible part
being the top of the blade exiting from the crook of his nose. Whining like a
stuck pig he started clawing at his face, cutting his hands at the sharp
blade, banging against furniture till he fled the scene crashing over the
banister of the veranda. Sylvie, retching in her desperate attempt to regain
some breath, retreated from the second giant, who, however, ignored her and
was reaching for … Lucy? Ivana stood in front of her, when Cassie attacked
from the back with Great Grandpa’s old walking stick and a mighty swing
between his legs. His feral grin, when he turned to swat this nuisance away,
told her one thing:
‘Fuck, he’s a eunuch.’
She remembered just in time that the stick had a secret treasure, which ended
up decorating his crotch. Cassie must have found exactly his little pee hole,
which was all that was left from his penis, to lodge the rapier in. Shrieking
in his high voice he tried to reach for it, when Ivana kicked him in the back
of his knees with Cassie swinging the rest of the stick to his neck. Thus
falling on his belly, the rapier cut through his crotch to finish severing his
lower spine. With a wheezing noise he lost consciousness. His two brothers in
arms were not amused, but even less so when there lumbering attack ended in
two heels making contact with their noses, as Cassie and Ivana used their cart
wheeling routine as the Dollies for new imaginative uses. Somersaulting
through the eunuchs’ legs brought Cassie and Ivana suddenly in front of …
Lydia and Tina. Having stepped in silently through the broken door it took
them only seconds of eye contact to understand their parts, which they
fulfilled masterly by confounding the two adversaries, who had furiously
turned around to get their hands on these slippery girls, by placing two right
hooks squarely on two wobbly chins. Their staggering reactions ended in a slow
descend, helped by two naked bodies kneeling behind their legs. Sylvie having
robbed the mantelpiece of two ugly vases used them most efficiently, by
crashing them onto their heads.
‘Enough with that circus! Hand over the girl.’
The gun held by the lady with the heavy Slavic accent would have been a
convincing argument, had she given more attention to the fact that one of the
two leather dykes didn’t lift her arms but moved them to her back, suddenly
bending and thus hurling a back flipping dervish right into her face. The
intricacies of the screamed Spanish swear words were lost to her as, apart
from trying to stay conscious, she looked for her gun, which she finally found
pointed to her head by a very angry Maria.
‘What’s going on here?’
As Lydia and Tina turned around, the view freed for the whole scene.
‘Colonel Chernova, I should have known …’
‘Mommy!’
How could one scream encompass the pain of abandonment, the pain of trying so
hard to belong, to be one of the big girls, the pain of self inflicted
punishment to pay for all the imagined reasons, why her mother left her? How
could one shriek combine the joy of homecoming, the joy of having paid the
price and being found right, the joy of seeing her mother again, after having
cried secretly many nights for her, hiding her despair in grown girl attitude?
How could a child’s run through a room of vanquished villains, broken glass
and upturned furniture, a child whose black curly hair framed an elfin face
with eyes the color of azure, whose bloody points, where nipples once have
been, and whose sewn up crotch, where an adolescent pussy once brought
pleasure, paid tribute to the extent of her sacrifice, how could this child’s
clinging to her mother’s breastless chest not bring tears to everyone’s eyes,
not add sobs of one’s own to the child’s deep, heaving, heart breaking
weeping?
Colonel Chernova wasn’t easily moved, one could argue she didn’t have any
feelings at all as her country’s tyrants did the thinking and feeling for her.
So the occasion of a tearful family reunion allowed her with a quick flick of
her hand to turn the tables and point the gun back at her captors till the
door was at her back and there was just one thing preventing her escape: her
desire to succeed.
‘OK Agnes, hand her to me, you know very well that you have no chance against
us.’
‘Over my dead body.’
Agnes’ voice was raspy from the emotion of holding her daughter in her arms
after such a long time as well as the furor against the possibility of losing
her again.
‘Well, it might come to that, although I would regret it, as you’ve been of
great service to us. But I might start first with your sister … or your other
daughter? I give you a choice.’
‘You promised you would leave my family alone, if I took my job up again and
nullified all the poor kids, who had been brainwashed in these Christian
summer camps.’
‘Well, promises, so many broken promises. Have you lately checked the divorce
rate in this country? All broken promises, so one more or less doesn’t make
much difference now, does it? And how should I have known, that the Skoptsy
achieve their goal of 144.000 eunuchs exactly during my watch? And it’s also
not exactly my fault either that your family carries the blood of Kondratii
Selivanov in its veins, is it?’
‘Gee, one of the founders of the Skoptsy …’
Ivana’s whisper barely reached Cassie. Slowly Agnes put Lucy on the ground,
turning her around to the gasps of many in the room. While running to fling
herself into her mother’s arms she had lost her terry cloth bath robe, now
standing proud in all her eleven year old naked glory, her body marked by its
recent loss. How could she have sustained the pain of stretching her legs
around Agnes’ hips, of pressing her cut off nipples at her mother’s blouse?
‘So you think she is the Messiah? She has already cut herself as you can see.
How would the Elders now evaluate, if she is the one, as they can’t observe
the castration as foreseen in the scripture of the Skoptsy?’
There was defiance and deep anger in her reply, an anger mostly against
herself for not having been here for her daughter.
‘I don’t give a damn if she is the Messiah or his cleaning lady! All I know is
that the Skoptsy are our best operatives and as their handler I’m ordered to
support them. I don’t make the stupid rules of these freaks …’
Her furious reaction as well as the waving of her weapon in the air showed the
growing insecurity of Colonel Chernova, not the least because the sound of an
approaching horse had stopped quite close to the house. Suddenly her face
turned waxen and the gun fell from her hand, Mandy’s foot transporting it
through the room till it clattered onto the far wall. Against the waning light
of the autumn sky a figure stood in the splintered door frame: Caroline or
wakhan ho, The Spirit’s Voice as some Lakota had started to call her. In her
leather skinned riding trousers, her hair cut and bound the Lakota way and her
mocassins she looked like from another century. It didn’t help that she had
shed her shirt on the porch and her naked torso was covered in scars, her cut
nipples the least of them. A new one on her arm was tripping blood as she was
sheathing her scary looking knife. It took everyone by surprise that Colonel
Chernova suddenly moved jerkingly, took Caroline by the hand and started
walking toward the staircase down to the cellar.
‘Look at Caroline’s eyes, you only see white, she must have cut herself, so
she could fall into trance …’
‘She’s in that crazy woman’s head …’
Cassie and Ivana remembered only too well Caroline’s strange stories from her
nullification and the reasons she gave for not finishing school and abandoning
the Dollies in their last year: Her desire to learn from her Grandmother and
to follow in her footsteps as a healer and spiritual leader of her people.
‘I better go with them.’
Mandy had found her voice.
‘And we better make sure that these guys can’t make troubles any more.’
Sylvie took control by starting to tie up one of the eunuchs as everyone was
trying to come to grips with the situation and hugs and introductions didn’t
seem to ever stop. Checking on that bulk of a Skoptsy, who had ended up
falling off the veranda and driving the scalpel into his brain, it was also
Sylvie, who saw a group of cars approaching and alarmed the others.
‘No worries, it must be the other Dollies, whom I texted asking for help. No,
look, it’s Uncle Bernie and his workmen and there is also Susie’s car.’
Carrie’s explanation and the hoopla ensuing especially from Alex’s pregnancy
served as distraction to Greg and Uncle Bernie forming a group together with
the heavy looking handymen on the other side of the living room. The shot from
Bernie’s gun into the ceiling had Agnes spill Sylvie’s pain reducing
concoction, which she was feeding to Lucy, who refused to let go of Agnes’
hand or to go to her bed. Cassie’s ‘I don’t believe this’, was answered by
Ivana’s ‘I told you so.’
‘I hope I got everyone’s attention. Where is my superior, Colonel Chernova?’
A wave with his hand had two of his heavies carry one of the unconscious
Skoptsy outside to the waiting cars.
‘Where’s my father?’
‘What are you doing, Greg?’
The simultaneous questions by Sylvie and Susie put a sardonic smile on
Bernie’s face.
‘So many questions, so few answers. Let me put it that way: Your father’s
large sexual appetite was met by a short snip. And dear Greg here: well blood
is thicker than pussy juice and the young man made the wise decision to follow
his family’s historical obligations, didn’t you?’
Greg’s curt nod betrayed his unease.
‘Anyway: time for my answers. Greg, get the gir…’
The sound of flesh connecting with flesh as well as two painful grunts, let
him turn the gun towards the entrance, the moment a black clad foot connected
with his chin. Greg’s movement to grab Lucy was cut short by Susie’s leg
ending up in his crotch. There was furniture flying and more vases biting the
dust on heavy heads, while three masked figures twirled their martial arts
dance through Mandy’s living room. The last one to loose consciousness was
Greg with four girls sitting on his arms and legs and Alex blocking his breath
with her amble bottom, which had grown proportionally to her pregnant belly.
‘This moron tried to bite my pussy!’
The laughter of the other girls about Alex’s indignant reaction was cut short
by the eerie silence, which descended around the three ominous figures
standing in fighter’s poses opposite the rest of the group.
This time Ivana’s retort to Cassie’s ‘It’s like in a bad story ...’ was a
simple nod of her head.
‘Mi Ling, you came.’
Lucy’s reaction caught everyone by surprise. The figure in front lifted the
covering cloth from her face, her tears obvious as she knelt to embrace Lucy.
‘Come.’
As soon as Lucy and Mi Ling had disappeared into the cellar, the whispering
started.
‘So, it’s true. Mi Ling must have joined this secret society, she always
talked about.’
‘Well, she was gone without a trace after our graduation.’
‘You remember Mi Ling’s stories about the Chinese eunuchs …’
‘Yes and their hope of coming to power again by the sacrifice …’
Their reappearance cut short their speculations. Mi Ling was carrying
referentially a lacquered box … containing Lucy’s sex, which, though damaged
by the scissors and having lost its color, looked like a precious clam topped
by a little pearl, Lucy’s clit still swollen, rising from its hood. In a
gesture of good bye Lucy stroked it for an instant smiling, while Mi Ling
showed the content to her two companions, who bowed their heads honoring Lucy
and her gift. She closed the box and handed it to them. The vrooming noise of
their motorbikes still reverberated, when Mi Ling turned around, her hand on
Lucy’s head.
‘Be informed that this house is under the protection of the Eunuchs of the
Imperial Court.’
Greg’s pitiful mewling, which one could hear through his gag, had Uncle Bernie
rattle against the restraints of the old gyn chair. Alex and Susie were
discussing, which one of the different sizes of acupuncture needles they would
pass through Greg’s other testicle.
‘Revenge is all right, but don’t overdo it, girls. He still needs to be able
to talk.’
Sylvie had come back to the cellar, after helping the girls to secure the
Skoptsy with sufficient rope to circle the globe. Two mad grins answered her
admonishment.
‘Dad is fine. At least that’s what Wendy could tell me from outside the
operating theatre. But he won’t be much use as a husband any longer.’
‘Not much difference to before then.’
Christine’s ironic reply to Sylvie’s news had them all giggling.
‘I have Mandy for these calls of nature anyway.’
Christine’s tender stroking of Mandy’s neck had her smiling up from the
strenuous task of reprogramming the robot, which housed a naked, shivering
Colonel Chernova, who up till now refused steadfastly to answer their
questions and whose stubborn face not only betrayed deep seated fear, but also
increasing resignation that she would have to pay the ultimate prize for the
interests of her country.
‘And I hope I can also be of help again.’
Agnes had joined them after putting Lucy finally to sleep. Christine’s
ruffling through Agnes’ re-grown hair was all the reply necessary.
‘How is she?’
‘This Indian girl …’
‘Caroline …’
‘Yeah, she produced an ointment, which is supposed to be an improvement to the
one used with all the other girls and Lucy should be on her legs in two days,
that’s what she said. This Chinese girl is also up there, guarding her,
calling her sister. The others have started making dinner.’
’… and we are in charge of dessert: Sliced Colonel Chernova.’
* * * |
Castrated for music's sake | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES, MINOR | My music teacher de-balled me to preserve my voice. | I first started going to Sheila for singing lessons when I was 8 years old.
She was a good looking woman of about 38 years and had a spectacular cleavage.
Despite being so young I was horny and excited by her body, a fact that I
think she noticed. She would often put her hand on mine when instructing me
and her perfume drove me wild.
One day, she let her hand casually brush against my groin. I blushed and was
embarrassed because it produced a stiffy, which she noticed and must have
expected. "Oh dear", she said, " I must do something about that", and she led
me upstairs and into her bedroom. She had me undressed in moments and I was
putty in her hands. She cupped my balls in her hands and slowly rolled my
forskin back and sucked the head of my penis, while her tongue flicked up and
down, side to side. I came almost immediately but it was a dry orgasm.
Clearly, my testicles were not yet producing sperm. Sheila noted that and
explained to me that until my balls started producing man milk, my lovely
trebble voice was secure.
Time past by and our sex sessions continued, suplemented by my regular singing
lessons. Then, when I was ten years old I had my first ejaculation. Sheila
said that if I wanted to keep my lovely voice I would need a little help. She
said that choir boys who wanted to continue singing nicely had their balls cut
off -castrated and that this ensured they kept a nice voice.
"Doesn't that hurt?" I asked. "Yes, a little", she said, " but although it is
a sharp pain it is quickly over." She also said that I had to make up my mind
quickly because very soon I would start to change into a hairy, rough man with
a deep voice and that now I had ejaculated, it was a sign that the changes
were imminent.
So, I agreed to let her do it. She left me on the bed while she gathered the
necessary bits and bobs she required. Moments later she was back. She told me
to sit on the wooden chair with my legs apart and to sit forward on the chair
so she could do the job. She then fondled my balls and gently pulled them down
a bit. Next she made a loop in a piece of silk cord which she then tightened
above my balls and beneath my penis. She pulled and adjusted my scrotal skin
until she was satisfied it was in just the best position, then she tightened
the noose even more. The pressure on my spermatic cords was not unpleasant. In
fact it provoked a hard on, which made her smile. Having tied off my balls she
waited a minute or two. Then she flicked my balls to see if I felt anything.
By now my balls had gone a purple- red colour and I didn't feel any pain when
she flicked them.
Next she made an incision in the bottom of my sac and fished out my left ball.
She quickly tied it off with dental floss, then with a soldering iron she
burnt through the cord, cauterising the severed membrane, and the testicle
dropped off and she put it in a plastic cup. She deftly fished out my other
ball and did the same. The pain was divinely sharp but soon turned to a duller
ache. As she severed my last ball I orgasmed and hot cum shot out of my penis.
Since then I don't seem to want sex that much, perhaps twice a month. I can
still orgasm but it takes a lot longer. I seem to have got smoother skin and I
have the tiniest little breasts developing. Also, my penis seems smaller.
All this happened some time ago. Was it a good idea? I'm not sure. I still
sing trebble though and that was what I wanted..wasn't it?
* * * |
Auf der Samenfarm Teil 3 | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES | See Part 1 | ` Als ich nach etwa vier Wochen meinen Job auf der Farm begann, hatte sie sich
offensichtlich gut eingearbeitet. Jedenfalls wirkte sie auf mich, wie gesagt,
als wenn sie ihren Job schon zehn Jahre lang machte. Sie winkte mich fröhlich
heran, um mir ihren Tagesablauf zu schildern und zu demonstrieren. Ich traf
sie in ihrem Untersuchungsraum an, wo sie zu Beginn der Tagesarbeit zunächst
etwa vier bis fünf „Neuzugänge“ prüfen musste. Hierfür war sie lediglich mit
einem knappen Bustier und einem noch knapperen Lederrock bekleidet, und wenn
sie so auf ihrem Untersuchungshocker saß, zeigte sie unumwunden, dass sie
darunter nichts weiter anhatte. `
Schon als der erste „Neuzugang“ hereingeführt wurde, zeigte sich die
unmittelbare Wirkung ihrer Kleidung: Der nur mit einer Boxershorts bekleidete
Junge war sofort so stark erigiert, dass sein Schwanz die Hose enorm spannte.
Die beiden Wärter hielten den Jungen solange vor ihr fest, bis sie mit beiden
Händen von unten durch die Hosenbeine seinen Schwanz und die Eier gegriffen
hatte. Dann hielten die Jungens normalerweise still und sie konnte in Ruhe die
Schwanzlänge und die Steifigkeit beurteilen,sowie die Dicke der Eier und die
Länge des Beutels. Hierdurch konnte sie im allgemeinen auch schon abschätzen,
ob die vorgeführten etwa16-18 Jährigen schon regelmäßig abgewichst worden
waren. Sie wichste den Jungen dann sanft an, zog ihm die Hose herunter und
befahl ihm, selbst zu masturbieren. Die Lederklatsche in ihrer Hand sauste
zwischen die Beine des Jungen, wenn er nicht sofort zu wichsen begann. Diese
Klatsche zeigte enorme Wirkung, sodaß sogleich die Eichel etwas anschwoll und
der Junge heftig zu wichsen begann. Er war so aufgegeilt, dass er schon nach
nur etwa 30 Sekunden seine erste Ladung ihr voll in das Gesicht abspritzte.
Sie genoß es sichtlich und gönnte dem Prüfling nur eine kurze Ruhepause, nach
der sie ihn aufforderte, nochmals das Wichsen zu beginnen. So ließ sie ihn
fünf mal hintereinander abspritzen. Beim letzten Mal half sie ein wenig mit
dem Elektro-Ejaculator nach: Ein Gerät wie ein Massagestab, jedoch mit einer
langen, dünneren Spitze, an der sich in kurzem Abstand hintereinander zwei
Ringelektroden befinden. Die Spitze wird soweit in den Po eingeführt, dass die
Elektroden von innen an der Prostata anliegen. Dann wird durch zyklisches An-
und Ausschalten mittels Knopfdruck eine rhytmische Kontraktion und Entspannung
erzeugt, die nach kurzer Anwendung zum Abspritzen führt. Dieses Gerät wird
normalerweise in dieser Ausführung zum Absamen von Ziegen- und Schafböcken
benutzt, lässt sich aber auch hervorragend zum „Abmelken“ eines Mannes
gebrauchen.
Meine Frage, was denn mit denjenigen passierte, die nicht still halten würden,
erübrigte sich schon, denn in diesem Augenblick kamen die Wärter mit einem
herein, der wild zappelte und sich dagegen stemmte. Ohne lange zu zögern,
wurde er über den „Bock“ gelegt, ein Gerät wie eben das Turngerät, nur daß es
auch Fußfesseln besaß, die schnell mit einem hörbaren Klicken um die
Fußgelenke geschlossen wurden. Der Oberkörper wurde vornüber gebeugt und die
Hände ebenfalls in die vorhandenen Fesseln geklickt. Nunmehr wurde ihm ein
Gummiknebel in den Mund gesteckt, damit das Schreien nicht allzu laut würde.
Nachdem ihm einer der Wärter noch das Schamhaar mit dem Elekroscherer entfernt
hatte, konnte sie in Akion treten. Sie trat von hinten an ihn heran, legte die
Burdizzo-Zange neben sich ab und begann, seine Eier zu massieren, damit der
Beutel sich entspannte und lang herunterhängen würde. „Schade“, meinte sie und
zeigte mir seinen riesigen Schwanz, der steif nach vorne stand, „aber er
wollte ja nicht stillhalten!“ Sie fing an, ihn heftig abzuwichsen und schon
nach kurzer zeit spritzte er seine Ladung ab. Während er noch zuckte, zog sie
den einen Samenstrang straff nach unten und setzte die Burdizzo-Zange an. Als
sie sie zudrückte, bäumte der Junge sich auf, da er ja keine Anästheticum-
Spritze bekommen hatte. Für diesen Fall wäre dies ein zu großer Zeitaufwand!
Nachdem sie den gleichen Strang etwas versetzt aus Sicherheisgründen ein
zweites Mal geklemmt hatte, kam der andere Samenstrang an die Reihe.
Zum Schluß drückte sie ihm einen Gummiweiter in den Po, dann wurde er
hinausgebracht. Dieser Gummiweiter würde nun jeden Tag gegen einen größeren
ausgetauscht, und nach etwa einer Woche würde der auf Analverkehr
spezialisierte Neger mit seinem riesigen „Maulesel“-Schwanz das „Einreiten“
übernehmen. Danach konnten dann diese Jungs zu guten Preisen als Analsklaven
verkauft werden.
Wird fortgesetzt...
* * * |
Der Totschläger | NULLIFICATION | Entmannung aus Gnade | Er saß in der dämmrigen Zelle. Nach einem heftigen Saufgelage hatte er einen
der Burschen am Tisch heftig geschlagen und dieser starb kurz darauf. Am
Morgen hatten ihn die Häscher schlafend gefunden und in diese Zelle
geschleppt.
Langsam, sehr langsam verging die Zeit.
Er hörte klappern und Schlüssel drehen und die Tür ging auf.
Man packte ihn und legte ihm eiserne Handfesseln an, die eine lange Kette
hatten, an der er vorwärts gezerrt wurde.
In einem halb dunklem Raum angekommen stand er vor einem Tribunal.
Er hätte sich wieder mal, wie schon so oft, geprügelt und dieses mal jemanden
erschlagen, wurde ihm vorgehalten. Er solle darüber reden. Er wusste aber
nichts mehr. Der Rausch hatte ihm ein schwarzes Loch im Gedächtnis
hinterlassen.
Er sagte dieses mit leiser heiserer Stimme.
Sprich lauter, herrschte ihn der Richter an, gestern konntest du doch nicht
laut genug brüllen!
Es gab nichts zu beschönigen, er ein notorischer Schläger hatte einen Burschen
erschlagen.
Der Richter sagte , das du mit der Todesstrafe rechnen musst ist dir doch
klar?
Er stand auf und verkündete das Urteil:
Der Angeklagte Karl ist des Totschlages schuldig und wird zum Tode durch den
Strang verurteilt.
Stille.
Der Richter fuhr fort:
Der Angeklagte ist ein Schläger und Raufbold.
Er darf um Gnade bitten, wenn er sich glaubhaft zu einem friedlichen Menschen
wandeln will.
Dies Wandlung kann nur durch eine Entmannung erfolgen.
Der Delinquent ist dazu öffentlich zu kastrieren.
Angeklagter willst du das?
Oder willst du morgen früh hängen?
Karl konnte nicht sprechen, Tränen liefen ihm über das Gesicht.
Nur nicht hängen, ich will nicht sterben, schrie es in ihm.
Er sah zum Richter und nickte deutlich.
Der sah ihn fragend an.
Karl stammelte: Gnade, bitte Gnade.
Der Richter sprach: Gut dir soll Gnade geschehen. Morgen früh wirst du
öffentlich die Chance erhalten dich entmannen zu lassen. Erfolgt das nicht,
wehrst du dich oder leistest du Widerstand wirst du sofort erhängt.
Sollte deine Kastration gelingen, wirst du 10 Jahre als Knecht kostenlos den
auf dem Hof der Eltern des Erschlagenen dienen.
Gib dir Mühe das dir deine Gnade morgen zuteil werden kann, sonst bist du des
Todes.
Karl wurde in seine Zelle zurückgebracht.
Er saß auf der Pritsche und griff sich an sein Glied. Er begann unbewusst zu
onanieren und schnell spritzte die Ladung auf den staubigen Zellenboden.
In der Tür stand sein Wächter.
Höre sagte der, die Begnadigten werden meist doch erhängt, weil es so ist,
dass sich die Hoden in den Körper hochziehen, als unbewusste Reaktion des
Körpers und der Henker kann sie nicht fassen. Das wird dann nicht viel
Federlesen gemacht und schon hängst du am Galgen.
Du wirst Angst haben und der Henker wird dir die Gnade nicht gewähren können,
weil er deine Eier nicht fassen kann.
Wenn du willst kann ich dir helfen, zieh dich aus.
Karl stand nackt vor dem Wächter, der seinen hübschen jugendlichen Körper
wollüstig betrachtete.
Sein schön geformter Schwanz hing über einem prallen Sack von recht
beträchtlichen Volumen.
Stark geriffelt hatte der eng geschrumpfte Sack die Hoden dicht an den Körper
gezogen.
Der Wächter griff an den Sack und die Hoden zogen sich in den Leistenkanal.
Die wenigen verbliebenen Reste des geschrumpften Sackes waren nicht mehr zu
fassen.
Der Wächter lächelte und sagte, das ist es was deinen Tod bedeutet. Ihr
Burschen seit einfach zu geil.
Soll ich dir helfen? Karl nickte.
Der Wächter schob Karl auf die Liege und stieg über ihn. Sein dicker Schwanz
schob sich in das mit Spucke angefeuchtete Arschloch des Burschen. Er wurde
mehrfach und heftig gefickt.
Dann kamen noch mehrere Männer mit Kapuzen und fickten Karls Arsch.
Karl glaubte einige zu kennen, auch war ihm als wäre der Richter dabei. Sein
Arsch brannte von den vielen Schwänzen, die ihn gefickt hatten. Sperma lief
aus seinem Loch an den Beinen herunter. Sein Schwanz war schlaff und hing
kraftlos herunter, man hatte ihm einige mal einen abgewichst.
Sein Eier hingen in seinem nun schaffen Sack, der kraftlos und gerötet
herabbaumelte.
Der Morgen graute. Karl hörte wie vor seinem Zellenfenster gehämmert wurde.
Sie bauten den Galgen auf. Der Wächter sagte ihm er solle ja nicht aufhören
und weiterwichsen. Er sagte er könne nicht mehr.
Dann kannst du gleich hängen. Karl wichste verzweifelt seinen wund geriebenen
Pimmel.
Bald war es so weit. Der Wächter brachte einen Zuber mit heißem Wasser. Karl
setzte sich hinein. Kaum konnte er die Hitze des Wassers ertragen. Als er dann
aufstand, hing sein Sack weich und schlaff herunter.
Er wurde herausgeführt. Ein Gerüst, mit einem Galgen, stand auf dem
Marktplatz.
Der Strick mit der Schlinge schaukelte im leichten Wind.
Karl spürte die Angst. Sie kroch in ihm hoch und seine Hoden zogen sich hoch.
Sein Sack blieb aber schlaff und hing locker unter den Hoden. Seine Angst
wurde immer schlimmer und er spürte wie sich seine Eier immer höher zogen.
Das Urteil wurde laut verlesen. Er wurde aufgefordert sich nackt auszuziehen.
Wie er ohne Kleidung dastand, schlenkerte sein geröteter aber scheinbar leerer
Sack zwischen seinen Beinen.
Die Hoden waren im Leistenkanal verschwunden.
Schamlos wurde er von den vielen Menschen auf dem Platz angestarrt.
Der Henker fragte Karl ob er entmannt werden will und damit dem Strang
entgehen würde?
Karl sagte bitte kastriere mich . Hilf mir, versuche es zu tun, bitte!
Der Henker sagte, bücke dich über den Bock dort.
Karl tat es.
Ein pfeifendes Geräusch und ein Riemen biss in seine Arschbacken. Karl zuckte
hoch.
Der Henker sagte wenn du es nicht duldest, hängst du sofort. Karl bückte sich
nieder. Weitere Schläge trafen den sich an den Bock krallenden Burschen der
leise wimmernd die heftigen Hiebe ertrug.
Aushalten schoss es durch seinen Verstand, die werden dich sonst mit Freude
aufhängen.
Wieder sausten Schläge auf ihn herab.
Er spürte wie eine eiserne Zange seinen Sack packte. Sie griff diesen oberhalb
der wieder heruntergerutschten Eier.
Sein Sack war fest in der Zange.
Nun fordere deine Gnade hörte Karl die Stimme des Richters.
Karl rief so laut er konnte, Gnade, Gnade, schneidet mir meine Eier ab,
entmannt mich aber lasst mich nicht hängen.
Er spürte einen brennenden Schmerz.
Der Gehilfe des Henkers hatte ihm mit einer Fackel die Schamhaare abgesengt.
Schon griff der Henker mit einer glühenden Zange den Sack des Burschen.
Die Zange hatte weiß glühende breite Platten, die seinen Sack und seine Eier
auf der ganzen Länge verschmorten. Er krallte sich an den Bock. Er keuchte.
Festhalten, festhalten oder du bekommst den Strang.
Die glühende Zange hatte ihr Werk getan. Ein Fetzen verbrannter Haut hing
rauchend, wo gerade noch der Sack war. Der war von der glühenden Zange
weggerannt. Auch die Hoden waren weggeschmort.
Er war kastriert, ein Eunuch. Die Menschen lachten und brüllten, während ihm
die Sinne schwanden.
Er war dem Galgen entkommen und voller Gnade kastriert.
Während sich die Leute entfernten, lag er nackt und zusammengekrümmt auf dem
Schindergerüst. Einige ergötzten sich noch an seinem Leid, bis auch sie
davongingen. Er blieb allein zurück.
Ei altes Mütterchen versorgte seine Wunde. Sein Sack mit Inhalt war
weggeschmort und auch sein Penis war bis auf eine kleinen Stummel abgesengt.
* * * |
The Simon Compendium | BI, TESTICLES, MINOR, circumcisions, enemas, etc.! | A complete guide to everyone's favorite boy-eunuch and his friends, adventures, and other carryings-on! Compiled lovingly by Paolo, based upon characters created by C van D with the Author's blessing! Enjoy! | A Story of a Boy-Eunuch & his Adventures.
V4.0.1_`
**Birth-Age 9 – Simon Scott resides in Cape Town, RSA.** It is unknown if
Simon is born there, or moves from England. We assume he is an only-child.
Simon’s native nurse gives him an enema _every day_ to make him go when SHE
wants him to, and to avoid accidents in public.
Simon’s parents don’t seem to have much time for him, spending most of their
time on missions “up north”.
**Colin Hislop** comes down with the mumps, which effectively neuters him.
(Conjectured from facts given by Simon.) Colin has a little brother, Calum,
who is also a eunuch. Reasons unknown. We later find that the mumps got Calum,
too.
**Age 8-9? –** Simon gets circumcised, but not much - just the tip - to keep
him from “fiddling with it”. Method unknown; it’s not much of a cut. Simon
still fiddles with it. It’s unclear exactly when he is circumcised, but he is
fully healed by the time he arrives in England.
**Age 10?-11 –** approximately – Simon comes to England from Cape Town, South
Africa. He is labeled “unattractive” by Uncle Carl the first time the man sees
him. No one seems to want him. He goes to live with the Saundersons, Jennifer
and Malcolm, close relatives of Carl and the distant cousins of Simon. Their
three children are Sue,13; Vikki,10; Charlie,7-8?. The Saunderson children go
nude during warm weather. Nothing else is known of Charlie or Vikki, but Sue
is a slut.
Simon meets his Uncle Carl in person for the first time; Carl thinks that the
boy’s genitals would not be out of place on a toddler. Simon’s loose shorts
afford Carl a peek.
Simon is accused of not wiping properly and not taking care of his laundry. He
is moody, lazy, dirty, and overall unpleasant.
Uncle Carl is a worldly man with expensive tastes and obviously, the money to
back them up! He likes good suits and fancy cars. He is about to trade up to a
Jaguar. The Jag is later traded for a gun-metal gray Aston-Martin.
We later learn that Carl’s surname is **Scott** , just like Simon’s.
**Mark Maitland** , Simon's future best friend, begins to study castration and
eunuchs at this time. By age 11-12, he will have his balls pricked as well.
**Manchit Khannah** , living in India, up-country Andhra Pradesh, near
Secunderabad, is sent to be a temple Acolyte. He is castrated via a horsehair
tourniquet tied around his scrotum, which causes him to become a eunuch. Once
his testicles have withered, they are chopped off. He will later come to
England to become one of Simon's closest friends and a fast bowler. Manchit's
native tongue is 'Telugu'.
**The Roebuck Twins, Jon and Jamie** , are living in an orphanage in a Gulf
State, approximately one year away from being neutered. Boys in orphans' homes
in this state are routinely netuered if not claimed/adopted by age 12 or
adopted after 7 years in custody of the State.
At some point in time, perhaps earlier, Carl Scott is in the area of India
where Manchit lives and learns the language.
Simon begins to realize that people might want to see his body for some
reason.
Upon his arrival, Simon is said (by his parents) to be bright and can sing. He
should easily get scholarships to school. Simon starts school locally.
Entrance exams for school show Simon to be “dumb” and he can’t sing a note.
The Saundersons are out thousands in school fees.
Uncle Carl begins to entertain the notion that a “couple of snips” would be
good for him. Simon’s parents vanish from human ken after abandoning him to
the Saundersons.
Simon settles in to boarding school, but doesn’t seem to care much about it.
School is viewed as being at least something keeping him out of their way.
Simon’s school buddy, Ekins, tells Simon about young junior boys being used as
bum-boys by senior boys. Simon becomes the “flower” of Ramsay, the Prefect,
and captain of football. Ramsay genuinely likes him, and buys him gifts
including cream teas, sweets, and a fancy ink pen. He never hurts him, and
Simon comes to enjoy their conjugal visits. These always take place on Sunday,
right after Matron’s enema sessions. They usually bike it to a deserted old
house.
Despite being used as Ramsay’s bum-boy for the whole term, Simon never has an
orgasm.
Simon and some friends discuss castration at school one day, on the field. It
is very interesting. Ekins, nor any of the other boys, appear to be neutered,
but claim to know boys who are and what it does to them.
Simon is very glad to meet his “Uncle” Max on winter holidays at the
Saundersons. Max is Carl’s brother-in-law, and buys Simon several toys. One of
the toys is a fancy model electric train. Simon seduces him; he will later
come to regret this. His penis is about 3 cm. with most of it being loose skin
only.
Max is also a well traveled and worldly man. He is quite the mystery.
Uncle Max sodomizes Simon at the boy’s insistence, as well as doing oral on
him. This is the first time that Simon has been anally penetrated by a man.
Max does it properly so as not to hurt him. Simon thinks it felt good, but
does not orgasm. Max explains castration as well, and agrees that Simon could
be done, for he is “just the right age.” They have a lengthy discussion about
geldings, both horses and boys.
Simon begins to tire of being a bum-boy and wants some action with girls of
his own. Being Ramsay’s bum-boy has made him quite “tarty” as well.
**Age 11.5 –** Simon is a scruffy boy with mouse-brown hair and is still a
grubby little urchin. His testicles are no larger than a man’s thumbnail and
his penis is likened to an “acorn not out of place on a 4 year old.”
Simon’s Uncle Carl is actually his 4th cousin a few times removed. Max is not
a blood relation to Simon. Max is married to (one of) Carl’s sisters.
Simon has learned about “the birds and the bees” at school, and confirms his
data with Uncle Carl. Later in the day, Simon meets up with a gelded horse,
Mustang. Simon thinks it’s mean to cut a horse’s balls off. Uncle Carl
explains the reasons for gelding a horse, and Simon entertains his first ideas
about human castration. “Do they ever do that on boys?” He asks. Mustang
attempts to mount a mare and then gives up.
Uncle Carl tells Simon several tales of gelded boys he has known of, the world
over. The boy is fascinated. Simon says he was circumcised, to “keep him from
fiddling with it.” He still fiddles with it.
Simon has the full story on castration explained to him by Uncle Carl; it
conforms to Uncle Max’s story. He also has his genitals examined during such,
and learns a neat trick for going to the bathroom in the wilds.
Simon has his bum fucked for the first time by Uncle Carl, who does it
properly. He enjoys it, mainly for the novelty of it being ‘dirty’ or taboo.
Anything dirty, or to do with sex appeals to him, as it does most young boys
at that age. Carl seems to enjoy it as well, and does not hurt him. Simon
relishes in the dirty little secret that they share.
Simon’s erect length is, at this time, all of 2 inches.
Later that month, Simon admits to being able to masturbate, but not ejaculate.
He just plays with it until it goes stiff. He is caught attempting sex with
13-14 year old Sue, her idea. Aunt Jennifer catches them in the act. Simon is
labeled as “depraved” by his Aunt Jennifer and seen as a “dirty minded kid”.
Carl suggests having him neutered to Jennifer, after she comes to him for
advice on her “insane and depraved children”.
No mention of Vikki and Charlie Saunderson being depraved.
Simon finds out that he is to be neutered. He asks Uncle Carl about it, who
explains it all again. Carl then informs him, in a “no-argument” tone, that he
IS going to be neutered. Simon agrees that it sounds fine to him and asks when
it can be done. Later though, he wanders off crying, since “nobody cares”.
Uncle Max has talked to Carl about having Simon neutered as well. They tend to
be in agreement that it is the best course of action for the boy, citing that
neutering has “been the making” of some boys they have known.
Simon seems to grow a bit depressed and gets an attitude. He later tells his
little cousin Charlie (8-9?) that HE is going to be neutered as well when he’s
a bit older. We don’t know if Charlie ever got neutered or not.
Simon is told he is being taken to Disneyland, but instead, is taken to be
neutered.
Uncle Carl has a go at Sue, whom he describes as “slutty”. Simon is rewarded
with the offer of a new computer of his choice, though, to sooth his feelings.
He still harbors some anger about being lied to about Disney, though, thinking
that the idea of trading his balls for a PC isn’t too fair.
Carl later comes to regret the PC idea, as Simon is a dirty-minded kid who
gets into Internet porn.
Carl trades up to a new Jaguar. It will later be traded off for an Aston-
Martin.
Simon first sees a painting of Cecco called "Love Victorious". Cecco was a
prepubescent eunuch, and a famous model in Italy. Although he is castrated,
Cecco is depicted as an intact boy. Simon will later come to believe that some
of Cecco's contemporaries died not from the castration they underwent, but
Simon Scott, age 11.5, almost 12, has his balls pricked with Neutersol Plus.
Dr. Belmarsh performs the procedure.
Part of the exam includes a warm, soapy enema. Simon enjoys this. So does the
Doctor’s Nurse, who delights in neutering “sweet little boys”. Two other boys
are neutered that day with Simon – one wants to be (for religious reasons),
but the other cries a lot. Simon is not impressed with him.
In bed that night, Simon’s balls itch and as he realizes what they’ve done to
him, he cries.
In a week, Simon’s balls begin to turn to mush. One month later, Simon’s balls
and cords are gone, his scrotum shrinks up tight, and he is left impotent with
a penis hardly big enough to let him pee standing up.
Neutersol is said to _also destroy the nerves that allow a boy to attain
erection, as well as destroying his testicles, making HRT_ (Hormone
Replacement Therapy) _an option that will still _NOT_ _permit the neutered boy
to fuck a girl. His secondary sex characteristics, including a deep voice and
a beard, will be attained, but erectile capability will not. Belmarsh mentions
HRT at a later date, which makes no sense to Simon. Carl seems to blow it off,
thus hinting that HRT is NOT an option for Simon – _**ever**_.
Uncle Carl may or may not have gone along…he later says he drove Simon to the
clinic in his Jaguar, but Simon seems to recall having it done elsewhere –
perhaps a traumatic delusion? He could also have been lied to. It is safer to
take Carl’s account of the boy’s neutering, instead of Simon’s, as boys tend
to embellish stories. Simon recovers quickly, though.
Simon is told that he may have to be circumcised again when his penis beings
to shrink up. This doesn’t seem to bother him much.
Simon is told that he is a boy-eunuch now and will never have another
erection, and never be able to fuck girls. Stunned, Simon contemplates his
neutering all the way home. He can hardly believe that they actually did it to
him.
Sue teases Simon relentlessly, singing, “Simon’s had his balls pricked…” over
and over. At near 15, Sue _is_ “a slut.” Sue’s teasing begins to get on
Simon’s nerves.
Uncle Carl makes use of Simon’s bum once again, and the now-boy-eunuch enjoys
it.
Simon begins to grow taller, a “big-little boy”.
Simon officially becomes Carl’s Ward after the incident with Sue that led to
his neutering. The Saundersons want no more to do with him.
Simon becomes impotent after a few weeks and stops “fiddling with it,” citing
there is no point to it anymore. Impotency sets in. He seems to accept his
eunuch status.
Carl prepares for a trip to the Far East and will be gone for about 18 months.
(He arrives back sooner.)
**Age 11.5-12 –** Simon isn’t doing well in school, in academia, choir, or
sports. He is unpopular and still scruffy. Here we first learn that part of
the school health care program is a weekly enema session with cold water from
a hose on the tap. Simon dreads this, believing that Matron is just trying to
fill a boy to bursting. All junior boys must receive a weekly enema.
**Age 12 - Mark Maitland** \- (future best friend of Simon) is neutered at age
12 by his Aunt, to further his singing career. We know nothing of Mark’s
parents, other than that they were lost in a boating accident when Mark was
only 5.
Shortly before being neutered, Mark manages to penetrate his girlfriend,
Wendy, vaginally, with his erect penis. He even has a dry orgasm inside of
her. His penis later shrinks up to be the tiniest one Simon has ever seen, and
Mark cannot pee standing up.
Mark orders a strap-on dildo online to keep Wendy happy once he becomes
impotent. Mark records another CD, but is unaware of how much money he makes.
He gets a scholarship to a school in Sussex.
(Marks’ neutering probably took place on summer break ON HIS BIRTHDAY (12).
Mark says he rode his bike to the Doctor’s office and rode back; it was that
trivial of a thing! We find out some time later that Mark lives at a flat in
London and that he WANTED to get his balls pricked after entertaining some
doubts.)
Music critics begin to call Mark Maitland the successor to **Aled Jones,** for
whom Mark doesn’t care much. Mark makes money, but his accountants and Auntie
handle all that. He has no idea he is loaded and could buy a manor house if he
liked.
Fearing Mark's voice will change, the recording company archives a lot of his
work for future release. Roddy Fisher will later voice-over for duets with
him, boosting sales. Mark begins to get used to his celebrity, and his looks
as an angelic choirboy.
Mark's Aunt Freda begins to entertain notions on how to get at the boy's money
from his CD sales. Three years later, Mark's lawyers will leave HER high and
The Roebuck Twins are neutered at age 12 in a Gulf States orphanage. Shortly
thereafter, they are claimed by relatives and brought to the UK to live and
attend school. They are very quiet boys, but lethal at judo.
**Graham "Jack" Elliot,** hits puberty and becomes a sex maniac. He is a
crude boy with a hard Geordie accent. Shortly thereafter, he is neutered to
calm him down. (Conjecture).
Age 12.5-13 – Simon changes schools after being signed over to Uncle Carl. His
grades improve dramatically in his new school at Sussex on the far side of
Brighton. The School has quite a history to it. He becomes the star soprano in
the boys’ choir, but can’t box worth a damn, breaking down in tears whenever
hit. He is a good fast rugby winger, though.
Uncle Carl describes Simon’s inability to box as being related to his lack of
male hormones, citing that he “has no iron in his bones” to toughen him up.
The games master says that in winter (Rugby Union being the major sport) in
the Under-14 team; Simon was a “winger” with a remarkable turn of speed. In
the athletics season he was developing well in the triple jump, and was
shortly going to train for distance running – he seemed to have just the right
build. Uncle Carl realizes that his long legs and thin build of a eunuch are
to credit for this.
Simon also isn't too good at gymnastics, and at age 14.5-15 will injure
himself on a horizontal beam jump. Being a eunuch saves him from more serious
injury.
**Sandie Ross** , future friend of Simon's, is neutered to prevent him
shafting his female cousins (According to Sandie). This turns Sandie into
quite the bottom boy who is always ready for action. (Conjecture). There is
some confusion as to Sandie's neutering, as it also fits the timetable for the
Dr. Jolly / Joli scandal.
Carl’s job had taken him to the Far East for about 18 months prior, but he
returns a bit sooner. (Simon’s guess.) Simon is very happy to see him; two
years prior, he would not even have spoken to him. Uncle Carl examines Simon,
testing his penis by stroking him to see if he is truly impotent. Simon cannot
get an erection, but feels like he needs “to be excused,” proving that he is
still capable of SOME kind of erotic sensations.
Simon’s uniform is described as a white vest with navy blue blazer, white
satin shorts and white trainers with ankle socks. Simon usually doesn’t wear
underwear, but is described as “spotless” and very neat. There is no mention
of a tie, but we can assume it is navy blue as well. Simon’s haircut is
probably a neat Ivy League-blend type.
Simon has grown, almost as tall as Carl; probably 5’6-9” or so. Before going
back to school after this first weekend back in England of Carl’s, Simon
almost literally begs his Uncle to sodomize him again. Carl obliges him.
**Carl has taken full custody of Simon and his welfare.** He is letting him
stay with his friends, the Knight-Foxes, at New Forest by Lymington Haven,
while he is not around and/or gone on work. His travels are extensive, and
obviously work-related. Rumor is that he is involved in **_“Operation Sugar
Plum”_** , although Simon knows NOTHING of this.
**_“Operation Sugar Plum”_** is a covert group of men who import and export
unwanted boys to be neutered and to serve as docile and ‘safe’ servants to
various upper class citizens the world over. They usually operate out of South
America. Uncle Max is involved.
Carl gives us a broad scope of his knowledge of boys being neutered the world
over. It seems that he has been everywhere, as the old song goes…
His friends, the Knight-Foxes, were described as lovely people with three
boys.
Simon likes his new school, and soon discovers he is not the only boy-eunuch
there. This seems to brighten his spirits and his grades improve. He sometimes
misses Ramsay, however, but not much.
**Simon Scott meets Mark Maitland** at School and the two become fast friends.
Mark is the first neutered boy, other than himself, that Simon has ever
encountered. Having a best friend is probably the reason for his dramatic
turnaround. Simon met no other eunuchs at his old school, or if he did, we
don't know about them.
Mark Maitland invites Simon to stay at his Aunt’s London flat with him. There
was a girl there, Wendy, and another girl (Lorna), a friend of Wendy’s. Simon
is astonished at what filthy things girls can do – much filthier than boys!
This was another shared secret – that girls will let you do anything, if you
can’t possibly get them pregnant. Their tiny penises seemed to drive them
wild. “We were exotic boy-eunuchs, trained to give girls pleasure!” Simon
tells us. The girls have a good time, sometimes referring to the boys as their
“eunuch slaves”.
**Simon becomes leading chorister –** his singing voice began to improve from
the moment of getting his balls pricked. Mark excels at all sorts of
athletics.
Simon meets the **Roebuck Twins, Jon & Jamie,** who are great at swimming and
Judo. The Roebuck boys were orphaned at age 5 in a Gulf State, and neutered at
age 12 in the orphanage there. They are only then found by relatives and
returned to England. They have ginger hair and freckles and are identical.
They are also very quiet boys.
The boy-eunuchs form a sort of club at school and admit other boys who have
lost their balls in many other ways. Some members include **Colin Hislop,**
whose balls had withered away after a bad attack of the mumps. **Manchit
Khannah’s** had been chopped off in some sort of ritual, in his native India.
It hadn’t prevented him becoming a demon fast bowler, though. With their
skills, they were starting to earn certain privileges. It wouldn’t be long
before boys went deliberately to get their balls pricked, to gain admission to
their circle...according to Simon.
No data is given on what boys in this “inner circle” have volunteered to be
neutered.
Colin Hislop has a little brother, Calum, also a eunuch. No reason known for
Calum's castration, although Colin suffered from mumps as a little boy.
Manchit Khannah takes up boxing as a fly-weight, which Simon can’t do because
he is prone to tears.
Simon goes to London as a birthday gift from Uncle Max. They stay with a lady
known as Aunt Glenda.
Simon meets his distant cousin Wendy and does some “fiddling” with her. He is
stunned to learn that this same Wendy is his cousin AND Mark’s girlfriend!
Uncle Carl finds out that **Simon is indeed “ _the boy eunuch of erotic
fiction”_** and totally impotent when he examines him again. Carl seems quite
taken with his young Ward, and compares him to **Cecco** , an Italian castrato
of a famous painting. Simon is fascinated by Cecco, although the boy in the
portrait has large balls “painted on”, even though he was a castrato at the
time he modeled. Simon has seen this painting, "Love Victorious" before.
Uncle Carl is back earlier than 18 months. Simon’s comprehensions of time, as
are most children’s, are a bit off.
Simon tells Carl all about Wendy and her friend Lorna and the things they let
him to do them since he was “safe” eunuch. For a eunuch, Simon certainly gets
around. He describes having an enema, and then the girls used a dildo on him
after he uses the strap-on on them. Simon is amazed at “how dirty girls can
be.” Simon decided that he really liked the girls, and he excels at ‘oral’.
Although he is anally penetrated on a regular basis, (even by the girls with
the dildo!) Simon has yet to experience orgasm. He begins to wonder why people
like to put things up his bum.
**Age 13.5-14 –** Simon writes a term paper about being neutered as the most
important day of his young life. He gets very high marks on his essay,
_**“Simon Tells It Like It Was.”**_ Simon mistakenly cites that he was 12, not
11, when he was neutered.
(At this time of life, 11.5 is as good as 12 to a boy, and Simon was probably
pushing it!)
At this age, Simon shows NO secondary male sexual characteristics, and knows
that he never will. He realizes that even with HRT, he will never have balls
again and can never fuck a girl. Writing the report makes him a bit
melancholy.
Mr. Meredith, the invigilator, pop-eyed and bald-headed, wonders if Simon is
“quite with us at all”, as the boy daydreams a 2-hour period away and has to
make it up later instead of seeing a film so as to complete his paper. Simon
realizes that, no, he is NOT “all there”, which is funny.
eldest son, has moved out to Sandhurst for officer training. He dates
Melanie’s older sister, Alice. Malcolm and Roddy remain at home. Simon has his
own attic room and privacy.
Uncle Carl’s whereabouts are unknown.
Simon has been watching straight porn vids on the Internet and feeling
longings to be able to fuck girls like the boys do in the vids. Neutersol, it
seems, has eliminated his ability but not his desire. He is frustrated.
**Simon meets Melanie, a nice girl obsessed with horses and geldings.** They
become an item. Melanie takes pity on Simon for being castrated, but falls
madly in lust with him because he is a eunuch. Simon discovers that although
he can’t DO IT to her, he still has urges for Melanie and is embarrassed and
frustrated. He tells his neutering story to her, she cries, and they have a go
orally.
Melanie confesses to Simon of being obsessed with neutering, be it horses or
otherwise. She also suspects that Malcolm Knight-Fox is gay and is using his
little brother, Roddy, as a bum-boy.
Simon describes his friend Mark Maitland as pretty, although he himself is
ordinary. Simon still doesn’t wear underwear, citing no need to, but Mark
likes to wear tight white nylon girls’ briefs. His Aunt’s home was at
Rustington-on-sea, not far from the school. More to the point it wasn’t too
far from Lymington Haven: a bus ride to Portsmouth then train on the coastwise
line towards Brighton. Already Simon had the beginnings of an idea: a
foursome: Melanie and himself, and Mark and his girlfriend. Mark also uses a
strap-on for her which he bought off the Internet right after having his balls
pricked.
Simon and Melanie take the train to Mark’s place. Simon is still a bit shocked
to know that Mark’s girlfriend is none other than his “cousin”, Wendy! There
seem to be no hard feelings, though.
Mark states that his Aunt routinely gives him enemas to keep him regular, and
insists that he and Simon have one before their sexual adventures with the
girls. Mark knows how to administer an enema, and gives them both one with
“the bag”. Simon is confused, but finds out why, when Melanie introduces him
to the game of **“Ride the Gelding”**. This involves her riding him like a
pony while sodomizing him with a double-ended dildo! Simon comes to find this
OK, although it does nothing for him sexually.
(Mark’s enema bag is probably a 2-quart standard red bag. If he knows where
it’s kept, and how ot use it, it’s safe to assume that he enjoys his enemas.)
Mark keeps a stash of chilled wine. The boy-eunuchs bring the girls to
smashing orgasms, both with oral and the dildos. They all end up sweaty and
exhausted.
Two days later, all four of them meet and do it again!
Mark extols the virtues of being a eunuch to Simon, who is longing to be “a
real man”. Mark cites that he wouldn’t have lasted 10 minutes if he had a 6”
penis and could get hard. The girls love their eunuchs because they can go so
long, unlike “other boys”.
Simon begins wearing a pair of Melanie’s tiny black thong underwear which he
received in the mail.
**Age 14.0 – Simon at the Knight-Foxes’**. He is a very sensitive boy, but
finds the life there boring. He shares the house with Mr. and Mrs. Knight-Fox,
their three boys, and Mrs. Hodges, the Housekeeper. The eldest son John is
still away at Sandhurst, having moved out.
Roddy and Malcolm attend a boarding school at Devon.
Roddy Knight-Fox is just thirteen, with blond hair and the sort of peaches-
and-cream complexion that often comes with very fair people. There was a sort
of 'little-boy-lost' air about Roddy: not that he was small and slight – he
wasn’t, he was quite well made – but sometimes his blue eyes would open wide
and his mouth quivered, as if he was going to cry. Roddy is quiet and is not
circumcised. He enjoys chess and stamp collecting.
Fifteen-year-old Malcolm couldn’t have been more different – a true son of his
father. Wing Commander Knight-Fox was a thick-set, burly man with iron-grey
hair that had once been black, and strong features. Malcolm was as dark as his
father had been and the same sort of build, big feet and big, rough hands.
(Roddy’s hands were slender and delicate). He had inherited the same large
nose and prominent chin. Only his mouth was different. The Wing-Commander
always looked good-humored; Malcolm’s mouth was turned-down and ugly. He has
an ugly personality, too.
At freshly 16, Malcolm gets drunk and crashes the family BMW, killing a
vagrant in the process. He is sent away. The Knight-Fox parents go on holiday
after it’s all said and done. Mrs. Hodges, the housekeeper, looks after Simon
and Roddy. The boys successfully avoid the media that descends upon the house.
Roddy becomes withdrawn and stops talking to Simon, mainly keeping to his
room.
**Roddy learns that Simon has been neutered** after seeing him naked in the
shower. He is fascinated. He then runs off and vanishes. Simon and Melanie
track him down later in the day.
Simon learns that little Roddy Knight-Fox is adopted, and that Malcolm, the
Knight-Fox’s natural son, is openly gay and has been abusing him. Roddy is
very traumatized by it, and hates his life. He wishes he’d never been adopted.
He hates being Malcolm’s bum-boy, and is often sore since Malcolm hurts him.
Simon doesn’t mind being a bum-boy now and then, but Roddy can’t understand
that. (This is probably due to Malcolm brutalizing him and not doing it
properly.)
Malcolm tends to frequent gay bars with some friends and enjoys sex with
street boys. Roddy is afraid he will bring a disease home to him, we later
learn.
Roddy states that he is “different”, and is so despondent that Simon and
Melanie are worried.
**Roddy Knight-Fox confesses to Melanie and Simon that he wants “to be like
Simon.”** – ie., castrated. This is brought on by Malcolm, who is, in Roddy’s
mind, all the things that he fears growing up to be like. The thought of
puberty horrifies Roddy, and he cries himself to sleep after lunch.
Simon discovers that Melanie’s Mum is indeed Uncle Carl’s younger sister!
Melanie says it’s good that Simon is a eunuch; otherwise they’d have had
“loopy children” by now! (Actually, they are distant enough cousins to
eliminate this worry, but it is a moot point!)
Simon and Melanie plot to castrate Roddy. They order Neutersol on Melanie’s
Mum’s gold Visa card online from a company in America. Simon is very good with
computers, we learn.
Simon and Mark will later be disgusted to learn how much is being charged for
Neutersol when Mark's Aunt Freda sues the boy for medical costs. She gets 3k
Pounds out of it.
Melanie waylays the postman (method unknown!) and brings the Neutersol over in
the Hamilton family Land Rover to show Simon. She can’t drive worth a damn,
and worries Simon that she’ll be arrested or wreck it.
**Near 11:00 PM that night, Melanie injects Roddy’s balls with Neutersol
Plus.** She floods her pants in orgasm upon doing a real live boy! Roddy never
even wakes up. The boy dreams on, not realizing that he’s just had his balls
pricked and is a eunuch.
Simon and Melanie have crazed sex in his attic room. Melanie is very wound up,
since injecting Roddy.
Simon comes to believe that his days as a bum-boy are over.
Melanie drives the Land Rover home. Simon feels sorry for the poor car as he
wanders off to bed.
**Next day –** the verdict of Malcolm Knight-Fox’s trial - he gets 2 years in
YOC, where he’ll be “buggered rotten”. Roddy enjoys this news. Then he wanders
off in blissful shock upon being told that he’s really a boy-eunuch now, and
was not dreaming it!
Uncle Carl finally arrives home! He lets his cottage out to renters and takes
over the Knight-Fox house and property. The elder Knight-Foxes move to New
Zealand, where Malcolm will join them in 2 years time when he is released.
Roddy does not move with them.
With one week until school starts, Uncle Carl takes Simon to Euro-Disney as he
promised, out of guilt for lying to him about it. Simon vows that he won’t be
buggering him ever again, but goes to Disney anyway, and is happy. Melanie and
Roddy go to.
**Roddy transfers to Simon’s school at start of term.**
An embarrassing picture of Simon in Mickey Mouse ears was taken at Disney and
gets loose at school, mortifying him. We can assume that Melanie snapped it,
or at least ordered it. If there was one of Roddy, it’s never mentioned.
**Back at school a week later** \- Roddy Knight-Fox has been taken in hand,
upon his arrival, by the **Roebuck Twins** ; their gentle appearance conceals
the fact that they are both Black Belts in Judo. They let Simon know. (The
Twins quiet demeanor is probably the factor in dealing with Roddy.)
Simon wants Roddy to meet as many of his friends as could get together, so he
sent word around and found an empty room. All the familiar faces are there:
**Mark Maitland** , professional singer, successor to Aled Jones; shy and
diffident **Colin Hislop** , maths genius, and his younger brother **Calum**
(reason for neutering unknown); **Manchit Khannah,** who had survived a crude
village castration and the horrible life of a “hijra” to become a demon fast
bowler. (Manchit later states that he is NOT an actual hijra, although this is
often assumed because of his Indian heritage. Manchit still has a penis. His
castration method was to have his scrotum bound with a horsehair tourniquet
until his balls withered away; they are later chopped off); and cheeky
**Graham “Jack” Elliott,** who prefers to be called by ‘Jack’, thank you, and
had never lost his Geordie accent; and a few others who had apparently had
their balls pricked over the summer holidays and were still coming to terms
with it.
**‘Jack’ Elliot** says that there “aren’t a pair of Knackers in the room.” He
is called crude by Mark, which is funny. Jack tells a joke about a Priest who
buggers an altar boy.
At the beginning of each term, Simon states that “new boy-eunuchs” are
apparent and trying to figure out what has happened to them. We learn that
showering in communal.
Roddy fits right in and is finally happy. He joins the choir and can sing
“like an angel”. Simon describes it as “coming home” for Roddy.
**Age 14.25 – February – at school – same term as above** – Friday – Simon
gets an enema by Matron. She uses warm soapy water and a large enema bulb, not
a hose connected to a cold tap as his old school Matron did. Simon finds it
soothing. Matron seems only concerned about his backside, and not about the
fact that he’s a eunuch.
Junior boys are all subjected to weekly “hot soap and waters” as a matter of
hygiene. Senior boys are not?
(With a covert provision in the law for neutering, as well as communal
showering, we can assume that it is common knowledge at the school that some
boys do not have balls. Obviously, with the number of them that we know of,
Matron would not be impressed by it.)
Simon has regular weekly meetings with **Dr. A.D. Jolly, D Mus., MA.,** the
choral director, Friday evenings, right after his enema sessions. Dr. Jolly
uses Simon for a bum-boy, much to Simon’s chagrin. It does nothing for Simon
sexually, as they watch an illegal porno with an Asian eunuch boy in it and do
the same things, every time: They have éclairs and tea, and discuss choir
business.
Simon meets **Tommy Chow Bing Wah** in Dr. Jolly’s office. Tommy is a
conceited Chinese boy, but he can sing. Tommy has a thick accent and some
trouble with English pronunciations.
Simon is head of one part of the Choir, while Mark handles the other part.
Simon discovers that Dr. Jolly has a dream of a choir of 40+ boy eunuchs, to
revive the lost operas of Handel, and that Tommy Chow is to be the next
castrato. Simon is assigned to get him neutered, or at least, talked into it.
Simon finds out that Dr. Jolly is buggering Mark Maitland as well, threatening
to cancel his scholarship if he tells. Simon tricks this information out of
Mark. Mark is not happy about Tommy Chow’s choir placement, which is unseemly
given his talent and tenure.
Simon and Mark discover that Dr. Jolly is having boys castrated for his dream
choir – boys with no parents nearby to interfere. Among them is little **Harry
Ricketts** , a boy who only dreams of being in the Army.
Simon finds Harry crying several times during term, but Harry won’t talk about
it.
Other boys neutered, that Simon and Mark know of, are: Ellison, Raxworthy,
Peter Forster, Foulkes, and Elliot – **not JACK / GRAHAM ELLIOT.** Jack Elliot
is not neutered until _“Made Safe”_ one month prior to that. This is obviously
a different Elliot boy, as at this time, Jack still has his balls and is a sex
maniac.
Simon also makes the comment that he can come up with four or five other
choirboys that he knows have been neutered.
Simon and Roddy explain castration as done in the West to Tommy. Tommy tells
what he knows of Chinese eunuchs after Simon and Roddy drop their pants for
him. Tommy is stunned to see that Western eunuchs get to keep their penises.
Unsure at first, Tommy agrees to castration upon realizing that he too can
keep his penis – unlike the Chinese eunuchs that he knows about. The boys head
to Roddy’s home with Tommy to meet Melanie.
Melanie admits to having screwed a “real boy” the summer before last. She
prefers a gelded Simon, however, and tells him this when he frets about it.
Melanie soothes his insecurities.
**Simon admits to having erotic dreams,** despite being a eunuch. We do not
know the content of these dreams. We can assume that Simon doesn’t have wet or
‘dry’wet dreams.
Melanie goes online and orders a Neutersol pack for Tommy Chow’s castration,
again using her Mum’s Visa card. Only her accountant ever sees the bills,
anyway.
The boys head back to school. Some days later, the Neutersol arrives and
Melanie books a hotel room under an assumed name to neuter Tommy.
Tommy shares his ideas of replacing Simon as head chorister. Simon is not
impressed.
Simon realizes that Tommy’s smug attitude will soon vanish with castration,
and he’ll “do as he’s told” after being neutered. Simon then realizes that _HE
himself_ if just like that – docile and servile to a point. He has read that
eunuchs tend to be. This bothers him when it dawns on him.
**One week later, Tommy Chow is neutered by Simon at the hotel.** Melanie is
too excited to do it and floods herself in ecstasy again.
Dr. Jolly seeks to have more boys neutered for his choir, so Simon informs
Melanie, after Tommy is told to rest up.
Little Harry Ricketts blows the whistle on Dr. Jolly. Having been neutered and
used as a bum-boy is too much for him. He contacts his lawyers.
Mark Maitland calls them on the phone at the hotel and informs Simon that all
leaves are cancelled. Dr. Jolly has been found to be a fraud, and arrested.
His name, actually **Joli,** and all of his credentials are found to be false.
The scandal of his castration of several boys is a brief thing.
Joli disappears after deportation.
**Neutersol Plus is found to NOT be foolproof** – Harry Ricketts and his balls
survive it, and Harry, who has been sad and in much pain from his body’s
unique 1 in 1,000,000 efforts to save his balls, goes to see a specialist in
New York City, USA, one Dr. Niemann who saves them.
(It is possible that this event, or more like it, is the catalyst for the
development of **Neutersol Rapid**.)
Some weeks later, Harry returns with balls intact and healthy, to show Simon
and his friends. They are happy for him. He later joins the Army, a fully
functional male, at age 16; he gets to realize his dream. His father is proud
of him.
**Easter that year - Mr. Trefusis,** the new director, reorganizes the choir.
An overconfident Tommy Chow fails his exam, and leaves the school. Roddy earns
High Distinctions. Mark passes easily, as does Simon.
Simon states that Mr. Trefusis knows nothing of the boy-eunuchs, netuered for
choir or NOT. We don't know for sure if Trefusis knows or not, really.
Simon admits that Mark is much more talented that he is. Unbeknownst to
anyone, however, Mark is very worried and feelings of guilt are causing him
anxiety. The first thoughts of regret over being neutered surface in his mind,
but he keeps quiet.
Simon takes a leave and goes home to see Melanie after a fortnight. They play
“Ride the Gelding” again. Melanie collapses on top of Simon, and the dildo
hits his prostate. Simon almost panics at the erotic and unfamiliar feelings,
and doesn’t like it one bit. Frightened of having sexual pleasure as a bum-
boy, he returns to school.
Simon ponders why everyone wants to use him for a bum-boy, still upset over
the dildo incident.
The School begins accepting local boys, known as “day boys” for tuition fees.
One of these new boys is **Jesse Morris.**
Simon gets beaten up badly by a new “day-boy” at school and needs 12 stitches
to close a wound over his left eye. **Jesse Morris, or “Jazza”,** as he
prefers to be called, does it at a rugby game. Jazza also attempts to break
Simon’s spine by stomping on him.
Simon wakes up in the san. to meet Nurse, a new employee, who promptly gives
him an enema. Simon is afraid that he has lost his eye, but has not.
Nurse is fascinated by the fact that Simon is a eunuch and thinks all eunuch
boys are “cut”. Simon corrects her. She listens to his tale intently.
Jesse Morris is a racially mixed, unintelligent boy with a superiority
complex. He is not well liked. His entire existence seems to be rooted in sex,
and Simon shivers at the thought of how many bastard children he has sired –
IF his tales are true about never using a condom.
Jazza DOES in fact have an impressive penis.
Jazza turns out to be a thief, the first hint being when Roddy gets a call to
come and pick up his stamp collection from a local pawn shop. Jazza, it turns
out, has quite the stolen goods ring running.
Roddy and Mark do some duet work for Mark’s recording label. This was Simon’s
idea.
Simon is subjected to daily enemas by Nurse during his protracted stay in the
Infirmary for his facial and back wounds. He wonders why everyone insists on
putting things up his bum so often.
Nurse is quite gentle with Simon, and uses an enema bulb. Simon “relaxes
lazily” in bed while being filled.
**Roddy is awarded his Under XV Colours** for playing junior rugby and is
happy; he comes to show Simon. He is very proud of himself. Simon is happy for
him.
Simon wanders out of the san., in violation of the rules. Later on, he sets up
a trap for Jazza after finding his stash of stolen goods on campus. The
Roebuck Twins take Jazza down, and he is arrested and taken into custody,
proclaiming that they will never get him.
Jazza arrives back at school in the san. with Simon, who realizes that as
punishment for his juvenile crimes, **Jazza has had his balls pricked** with
new Neutersol Rapid!
Jazza becomes violently ill, experiencing all of the flu-like side effects. He
has a spontaneous ejaculation, much to Simon’s disgust. Simon suggests that
Nurse give him a high-volume enema.
Just before his enema, Simon tells Jazza that his erection is the last one
he’ll ever have. Jazza does not believe him.
Some of the blanks as to what has transpired are soon filled in by an
unexpected letter from Uncle Carl. The trial of Jazza had been almost a family
affair, since the **Hon. Selena Scott Hamilton (Melanie’s Mum)** was presiding
magistrate, assisted on the one side by Uncle Carl himself and on the other by
Commandant Mrs. Briggs OBE, head of the local Red Cross and a sort of aunt of
Melanie’s on her father’s side. They had sentenced Jazza to neutering under a
covert new law.
Roddy writes to Uncle Carl, exposing his castration and how happy he is. Uncle
Carl is not upset.
Uncle Carl advises Simon to watch Melanie before she gelds every boy in town!
Jazza is expelled and vanishes. Simon delights in the knowledge of what the
crude boy will suffer through during testosterone withdrawal.
Simon gets new white thong underwear from Nurse and models them for her. Nurse
is delighted.
Mark and Roddy’s new album is released to rave reviews.
**Roddy goes back to his old name of Roddy Fisher.**
Near the end of term – Simon meets up with **Jason Johnson,** an American boy
making a fresh start in life in England with his Poppa. Jason is a beautiful
boy who is also a eunuch. He says he had his balls “stung out”, obviously with
Neutersol Rapid. He is amazed that Simon has, too.
Simon finds Jason’s rural Midwest American accent hard to understand.
Jason relates his gelding by his stepmother, at the hands of one Jewish Dr.
Benjamin, to Simon. He later goes on to tell Simon how he was ‘made safe’ for
his stepmother and stepsisters’ benefit, and how his dad had had a vasectomy.
Lalla…Layla…Lynda…whatever…Simon can’t catch her name properly, enrolled Jason
in a boys’ club in the city, he tells Simon. Getting information out of Jason
Johnson is not easy.
Simon is horrified to learn that Jason has been used as a eunuch sex toy by
perverse men in America, and that he has become addicted to it. Jason thinks
that “all boys want his ass.” He also thinks that Simon wanted to use him,
until Simon drops his shorts and shows him that he is a eunuch too.
Jason does the same, and the boy-eunuchs have a discussion about circumcision
in general. Jason is tightly circumcised as well.
Jason explains to Simon about being a boy-toy to older men, and being made to
wear a butt plug. Simon is sickened, even though Jason seems to like it. He
also likes “big boys.” Simon cannot comprehend wearing a butt plug all of the
time. (We don’t know if Jason still wears one.)
Simon learns that the club where Jason was enrolled, along with several other
boys, was busted and many arrests were made. Dr. Benjamin vanishes. Jason’s
Poppa divorces his stepmother over this incident, hence their arrival in
England. No hard evidence can be found that Jason’s stepmother willingly
endangered him, but she is highly suspect.
Jason charges money for sexual favors, and is making a lot of money. Roddy
reports this to Simon after seeing him at the bank.
Roddy suffers from phimosis and balantitis, and has a radical, tight
circumcision, including total frenulum removal. Simon is frightened and
stunned by it.
**Simon begins to fear penectomy, or total emasculation,** as well, after
seeing Roddy’s butchered up and tiny little penis. “One more little cut and
he’d have been a full and proper eunuch boy…”
Not having seen much of one another, Roddy almost tearfully begs Simon to stay
with him in the san. and have a game of chess with him. Roddy wins.
Roddy heals up fast from his circumcision and reports more odd goings-on to
Simon about Jason.
Strange events lead up to the discovery that Jason has a large sex-ring-for-
money running with many of the senior boys. He is suspended and put in
therapy, in a “rehab place”, to help him. He is exposed to the teachers by
**Gerard Hopkins,** the captain of the senior boys’ team. The senior boys
escape the scandal somehow.
**Simon, Mark, Roddy, Melanie and Wendy** at Roddy’s house on break some days
later near end of term. “The Knickers Club” meetings, as Simon calls them.
Mark Maitland begins gaining weight and could pass for a girl. Wendy feels bad
for Jason Johnson.
Mark announces to Simon and Roddy that he’s got a lot of money now from his
music CD’s, and doesn’t want to be a eunuch anymore. He decides to go for
experimental treatment and HRT to make him a man again. He cites Wendy wanting
a normal man, even though Melanie is very happy with a gelded Simon.
Simon is unsure how to take Mark’s admission. He seems somewhat hurt and
insecure, though.
Simon and Mark ask Roddy, who says you should never do “some things only for
money.” We don’t know what he means, as the girls return with food and
interrupt them.
Mark foregoes HRT and the experiments for at least one more year, much to
Simon’s relief. Mark does have a consult booked with a doctor in Germany,
however.
**Shortly after Summer Session begins, immediately preceeding "Made Safe" -
July -** Simon is winding down a weekend leave and awaiting his meeting up
with Mark at The Lemon Tree Cafe. He is thinking of the trouble that he had to
help get Roddy out of for switching beds and sleeping bare. Roddy has swapped
beds with **Michael Banner** , a boy who was neutered by Dr. Jolly. They did,
in fact, want to switch beds 'for the view'.
After this incident, the School decides to separate intact boys from eunuch-
boys in the Dorms.
Mark Maitland has been in Germany that summer, to be examined by a Professor
Zuniger at the University of Goettingen. The Professor believes he can reverse
Mark's neutering with stem cells and gives him a thorough exam, including a
scope up the urethra. Mark appears to be 'intact' inside, if not outside!
Homosexual happenings are brought to light because of this bed-check and
decision to separate the boys and eunuchs. **Sandie Ross, 13,** , in
particular, is fond of 'having a homo' as it's called. Sandie is described as
a peaches-and-cream complected boy, who was neutered to keep him from shafting
his cousins. Sandie is also rather chubby, but not unattractive.
While waiting, Simon thinks of Melanie and how they haven't played "Ride the
Gelding" lately due to Simon's odd feelings of pleasure and confusion.
Mark tells Simon of his plans to use stem-cell culture to reverse his
neutering operation. Simon is stunned by it all. He is also afraid for Mark,
in that it won't work. Mark seems to have gained weight.
Mark's Aunt Cathy, pregnant again, is to supply umbilical cord blood and cells
for the experiment. Simon notes that Mark is becomming depressed over being
nothing more than a singing eunuch. Still, he is looking at over a year, maybe
two, for the operation to prove out.
During their chat, Mark suddenly has a breakdown and begins to cry, begging
Simon not to leave him "like this." Again, Simon is stunned but very touched.
Mark then becomes very ill on the way back to School. He is taken to the
Hospital, where menegitis is confirmed. Simon suspects he was infected by the
exam in Germany, and feels it is an Omen.
Later on in the week, Simon meets up with some friends about odd goings-on
near the School. One of the boys suspects the Steward, who glares at them
often, of being a child molester.
The Hill Rise Army Camp, very near the School, has been the sight of some odd
happenings. Clues are found by the boys, indicating that someone from the
School is coming and going in and out of Hill Rise covertly. Simon relates a
history of his School:
_Like how that in the 1850’s the main school building had been a country
house, the home of an idle young peer, Lord Starborough. One autumn night His
Lordship was giving a grand ball to his guests. The previous summer had been
the wettest on record, and the canal bank was dangerously rotten. Without
warning, part of it collapsed, releasing not only the canal but the pent-up
water in the reservoir, at a higher level. Bursting through the windows, the
torrent flooded the ballroom twelve feet deep. Twenty of the dancers were
drowned or crushed._
The canal went out of use. Later owners of the house sealed off the reservoir
as an ornamental lake. The ballroom was demolished – local people said that on
wet windy nights they could still hear the frenzied screaming of those trapped
inside. Still, others said that on moonlit lovely evenings, one could sneak a
peek and see their ghostly forms still dancing the night away - almost if
trying to finish the evening that had not been.
And later still, the founders of our school had bought the building.
One other creepy fact about the area they investigate is that the small lake
was dredged and there was discovered a downed WW2 Dakota airplane in it,
complete with 4 skeletons in it.
Manchit Khannah, The Roebuck Twins, and Jack Elliot claim the need to pee as
they investigate for clues. Simon claims it's not a "tiny cock contest" and to
hurry up. Indeed, nearly all of them do not have enough cock left to pee
standing up with.
The eunuch-slueths are interrupted by a boy and girl, who have sex in the
forest. Simon is disgusted and annoyed at hiding.
That night, Simon misses Mark's sounds of slumber. Peter Keeble, the other boy
next to him, is a likely candidate for neutering, Simon thinks. Obviously, the
sleeping arrangements haven't been changed in Simon's Dorm yet, as Peter is
intact.
The clues continue to mount, and Simon enlists the aid of some street urchins.
One is a boy named Merv. He is fascinated, as are his friends, by finding that
Simon is a eunuch. Simon trades this information, as well as showing them, for
their continued aid. One of the girls proves to be very well skilled with the
boys, but Simon is content to watch only.
Next week, Merv calls Simon at school. Merve and his Marauders have waylaid a
van at the gates of the base. Simon and Mr. Trefusis, who knows to believe
Simon by now, go to investigate. They get the Sergeant on duty to secure the
camp, and it turns out that Simon's Geography Professor, Mr. Edward Waterbury,
aka Edvard Wasserbillig, is really an Al-Qa'ida spy and stealing munitions.
After Dr. Jolly, and now Waterbury, Simon is beginning to question the rest of
the Staff at School, in his own mind.
Back at School, Simon is called to Dr. Holroyd's office where he meets up with
his Uncle Max, and Major-General Frobisher of Military Intelligence.
Wasserbillig and his 3 young cohorts are arrested, and the School gets an
award which Simon narrowly avoids having HIS name put on. It would have been
embarrassing to him to have the OBE awarded.
The General asks Simon if he'd like to think about the Military, but Uncle Max
whispers to him about Simon, saving the boy from explaining. The General is
shocked. This is one reason that little Harry Ricketts was so upset - obsessed
with an Army career, he knew that they didn't take eunuchs.
Simon is frightened to find out that Uncle Max has heard of Merv's Marauders,
the vagrant kids in town. He refuses to tell him any more about them, for fear
that Merv and his boys will end up neutered and sold as slaves or something in
"Operation Sugar Plum".
Next day - Simon at The Lemon Tree again - He misses the only bus to Melanie's
and tries to avoid Uncle Max as well. He ponders how he found out about Max on
his own computer, thanking Uncle Carl for turning him onto PC's. Max is not
exactly a PC expert, even if he is great at international intrigue.
Simon goes to visit Mark, who is pale and weak but getting over it. Mark tells
Simon that Dr. Holroyd really IS an MD, not a professor-only doctor, and he's
getting into Mark's case with stem cell research. Simon is still very worried
over Mark.
Mark announces to Simon that while he didn't die, didn't lose any arms or legs
to the menengitis, that he can longer sing and has a hard time talking.
Inwardly, and not realizing it, Simon is crushed and almost cries. He holds
Mark's hand until he falls back to sleep, frightened to death that the
neutering-reversal won't work and that Mark will end up with nothing.
Mark recovers enough to be asked to go on a "Mission of National Security"
with Simon and some others. It does him a lot of good in the long run. Roddy
is not invited to go, as Simon feels he wouldn't concentrate on the job at
hand.
**Shortly before age 14.4-15 – Captain Iain Donald** is sacked from his job
at **_“Operation Sugar Plum”,_** which involves exportation of neutered South
American boys to the Middle East. He heads back to London.
Donald meets Max Riche, Simon’s ‘uncle’, who offers him a job. Max is a
smoker.
Max mentions his friends’ adopted son, autistic, who has been castrated. He
mentions scars, so the boy probably was cut and not injected with Neutersol.
The boy settles right down and likes to collect stamps. (This is NOT Roddy.)
Donald moves to the “Midlands” to begin his new job. The doctor in charge is
one **Otto von Gosch,** a naturalized American, though born an Austrian. The
boys later come to call him “Dr. Death”, although he never kills any of them.
This nickname comes to bother Donald later on, as does von Gosch’s dark
personality.
Donald’s ID is changed to Commander Donald, R.N.
**Age 14.5+15?** – No age given in the story. Simon and some of his friends
are recruited by Captain Donald, at Uncle Max’s suggestion, to work with stray
boys in **_“Operation Westward Ho,”_** a program for providing neutered boy
servants to upper-upper class high society folks in the West. Their Headmaster
releases them from school on “work of national importance.”
Uncle Carl buys and begins restoring an old house just across the border from
Lymington Haven to turn into a country club/retreat. (Conjecture.) He
commissions a special bronze statue to be made.
Captain Donald has been involved extensively in “Operation Sugar Plum,” before
being sacked; however, this highly secretive organization is not mentioned to
Simon and the other “Eunuch Trainers”.
After settling in and meeting some staff, Donald sees Simon for the first time
at the complex’s indoor swimming pool. He has five cohorts with him.
Simon’s hair has gone more blonde since his neutering. He has the body of a
lithe young god, according to Donald. The boy-eunuch “Trainers” swim nude.
Donald describes Simon’s voice as that of a female mezzo-soprano: light but
not shrill.
The other boys who go on “the mission” with him are **Graham “Jack” Elliot**
(gymnast and former sex maniac), **Mark Maitland** (singer formerly rivaling
Aled Jones and swimmer), **Manchit Khannah,** the Indian boy (an acolyte and
would-be eunuch priest and fast bowler/fly-weight boxer), the ginger-headed
and freckled **Roebuck Twins, Jamie and Jon** (British orphans raised from
ages 5 to 12 in a Gulf States orphanage, neutered at 12, and specialists in
unarmed combat).
The way to tell the Roebuck Twins apart is their facial features: Jon’s are
softer, and Jamie’s cheekbones are more prominent.
Elliot is described as fair-haired with a pretty face; he is also small and
wiry. He has only been “done” for a few months, obviously with Neutersol
Rapid. He is still a bit self-conscious. He has had his balls pricked on
orders of his Aunt and Uncle, his guardians who take little notice of him,
because he is a developing “sex maniac” and prone to almost priapasm.
Manchit Khannah is described as diminutive in size, but good at many sports.
His skin tone is described as “coffee colored”. Of the lot, Manchit is the
only one who has been castrated via knife and not Neutersol. He doesn’t
discuss it at all, until much later. (Conjecture - Simon knows, but who told
him is not clear.)
Mark says he had managed to have penetrative sex with his girlfriend a few
times before being neutered, but no longer can, after being neutered at his
Aunt’s insistence for his 12th birthday to further his singing career. He is
skilled at oral on Wendy now, and has the tiniest penis of the lot. He claims
to still experience “very strong feelings down there”, although he can’t
orgasm.
**The “spy eunuchs” realize their job is in helping boys adjust to being
neutered.** Manchit is worried that they will have their balls painfully
“chopped off” like him, but takes comfort in the fact that the boys destined
for servitude will have their balls pricked painlessly, like Simon. Simon will
later find out that Manchit suffered through having a horsehair tourniquet
tied tightly and painfully around his scrotum, and that his balls were only
chopped off after they'd withered away to almost nothing.
Shortly after meeting his “employees”, Donald takes delivery of three boys
from one Margy Townsend. They are **Wayne, Gary and Glen.** They will have
their balls pricked in two weeks from their arrival at the Center.
The boy-eunuchs tend to sleep nude at “the center”, and Graham Elliot puts
Donald in mind of **Narses,** the Byzantine boy slave who rose to command
armies and conquer Italy. The boys are to wear white shirts, black shorts, and
ankle socks with trainers.
**Neutersol Rapid** is mentioned in a German text. It is the drug of choice.
It works much faster, but gives the boy massive erections for the next day or
two with spontaneous ejaculations. It sometimes causes flu-like symptoms, but
not always. Testicular destruction is much faster than with Neutersol Plus or
Regular. It is also approved for boys (recall Jazza Morris) who are well into
puberty already.
Donald finds some extensive literature complete with pictures of boys, before
and after neutering, and reads up. He wonders why the beautiful fair-haired
boy in the images was neutered and what became of him.
Next morning, the new boys have nothing to do with Simon and his lot.
One of the trainee boys - Glen, while in the showers, calls Manchit a “wog”
and the Indian eunuch works him over for it. The Roebuck Twins pummel Wayne
and Gary when they try to come to his aid. Having mistaken Simon and his
friends for a bunch of softies, the newcomers learn a valuable lesson. One of
the Twins offers the beaten boys a hand-up.
Glen later tries to trip Mark in the pool, but Mark throws Glen in (fully
clothed) and then has to pull him back out.
Donald orders the boys to play a game of ball and then swim laps – nude – so
as the new boys can get a good look at their eunuch-peers’ naked bodies.
All of this training and exercise is good for Mark, who is still not up to
full par from having had menengitis. He is recovering very well, though, Simon
notes.
The plan works. Three days later, the new boys are talking about neutering
with their “Trainer Eunuchs” and hearing the ‘good things’ about it. From
there on out, they all seem to get along much better, sitting together for
meals and happily chatting. He still wonders of the new boys will ask to be
neutered, though.
Donald puts a revised timetable together in my head, based on the knowledge
(a) that Neutersol Rapid works very fast, but (b) the results wouldn’t begin
to appear until the three were out of the country and what was much more
important, split up and living among strangers.
Donald lies to the new boys, telling them they are going on a special mission
like 007, spies. The timetable is revised to four weeks to allow them to learn
enough French. The boys buy it.
Some time later, the boys are sedated and have their balls pricked while
asleep. None of them even wake up or make a sound. The next day, they try in
vain to hide their constant erections.
Next night, Donald delivers the three boys to a man named **Aristide** at
Molyneux Junction train-station. It is a starry and cold night. The three new
boy-eunuchs are shipped out, never to be heard of again…?
**Four months pass,** as Simon and company “train” twelve more boys to be
eunuchs. The boys are shipped out when deemed ready. Schoolwork and lessons,
as well as physical training and recreation are seen to at the facility. The
boys have plenty to do.
Donald begins to miss Paraguay, South America.
Max Riche and Donald chat on the phone. Max has just arrived back from
Argentina.
Donald is missing his thirty-some usual protégés and the warm climates,
finding the troglodyte lifestyle of the Center and the six ‘all-business’
eunuchs to be unnerving. They view it as an extension of school, speak only
when spoken to, etc., and not are not “exuberant” enough for Donald.
**Simon is caught watching straight video porn, of two teens, on a computer.
He is “sick with frustration” at watching what he longs to do, and cannot.**
Simon finds out the hard way that castration may or may not do away with
sexual urges. He snaps at the Captain, who decides to leave him alone.
Missing Melanie makes it all the more painful for Simon.
Max Riche offers Donald, whom we find is his acquaintance of over two years, a
job in exporting eunuch boys to Nazi heirs in South America. Donald vehemently
refuses, citing that he must draw the line somewhere. His true feelings that
he is giving boys a better life by having them neutered and exported finally
comes through. Max is not impressed, citing the “need to keep the punters
happy.”
Max figures no one would touch the Nazi deal, anyway, and compliments Donald
(surprisingly) on his morals and ethics.
Captain Donald is transferred to be the military attaché in the Gilbert and
Ellice Islands. He is shocked to find out that he is to ‘respectable’,
finally, and that the crime of neutering boys there carries the death penalty
if caught.
Simon and his friends return to their normal school lives after almost the
whole of the Autumn term at the Center. They are reminded that they are "back
in school now." Double-PE takes place on Saturday mornings.
Simon, citing weak wrists and such, has an accident on the horizontal beam in
the Gym. He comes down square on the beam, right between the legs. Despite
being a eunuch, this jars his spine and Simon becomes very ill. The Janitor
cleans up and Nurse takes Simon away for a poultice and bedrest - preceeded by
a very relaxing enema the he enjoys.
Memories of Cecco and the first time he saw him in a painting come to mind as
Simon broods, thankful that he lives in the 21st century and not in the days
when boys had their testicles burnt out with hot irons. He remembers the
painting, and how worried he was about being neutered. He contemplates the
thought that some of the boys neutered, back then, must have died of a broken
heart instead of shock or infection.
Roddy Fisher has adapted to School well and has his own circle of friends,
including: Colin Hislop's little brother, Calum, Michael Banner. Several
Senior Boys have crushes on Roddy and the lot, but they never get anywhere
with them. Simon describes their pleasures as "innocent."
Roddy concentrates on his new interest of surveying, when he's not recording
in the studio. Uncle Carl buys him a new theodolite.
Mark comes to visit Simon in the Infirmary. He tells his friend about taking
his Aunt Freda to court. After Mark's round of menegitis, and losing his
voice, the old bitty tries to throw him out and take his money. Mark's lawyers
send HER packing, but Mark must find a new place to live. He asks to move in
with Simon at his and Roddy's house, overseen by Uncle Carl. Simon joyfully
accepts.
Simon describes Mark's body as "good to look at." Mark is doing well, although
he can't sing and sometimes has trouble talking. "Operation Made Safe" was
incremental in his recovery.
More of Mark's older unreleased work is voiced-over with Roddy, and sales are
climbing. Mark cites that he has plenty of money, and Roddy is doing all the
work and gaining fame.
Mark cites that his producers knew his voice would change, but he doesnt' say
how. Obviously, they don't know he's a eunuch.
By June, according to Mark, the stem-cell experiment to reverse his castration
will be ready. Simon is worried about this, and thinks it might well fail due
to the effects of Neutersol on the erectile nerves.
**Martin Mooney** , a day boy, is raped by the janitor, one **Mr. Meggarty**.
Martin is very stupid, overweight, and Simon doesn't like him. Mooney once
confronted Simon about his neutering, saying, "There's something wrong with
you, Scott, isn't there?" Simon is very put out by this, citing that boy-
eunuchs simply "ARE", meaning there's nothing 'wrong' with it and no one
faults them for it.
All of the Masters dread having Mooney in class. On one assignment for species
observed on the wing, the boy writes "Boeing 777".
Mooney is brought to the Infirmary by Nurse, who blows Simon a kiss.
Simon decides that if any boy _should_ be neutered, it should be Martin
Mooney, to take him OUT of the gene pool! Martin's parents own and operate a
local store.
Martin slowly describes his rape by Meggarty to Simon. Simon finds it much
like watching paint dry. Meggarty is described as about 60, bald, squat, grey-
faced, and bristly - an unattractive specimen. The old man likes to tease boys
with, "Like it up yer bum, do yer? Har, har, har!"
Meggarty has been arrested once for such, but the boy who complained was a
criminal and not believed. Meggarty gets away with no time or charges.
Mooney says the attack took place at Sixfields, an abandoned airport 3 miles
from School and Mecca for wildlife studies.
Simon tells Nurse, who is stunned. She takes a swab, and Simon convinces
Martin to not tell. He begins to form a plan.
Simon contemplates Martin's rape vs. what Uncle Carl and others have done to
him. While it isn't the same thing, he feels that in a way, it is. It is very
confusing to him.
Later, at 7 o'clock, Nurse returns to give Simon another enema.
Sunday - Roddy begins leading the Decani side of Choir in Mark's place.
Manchit Khannah, a Hindu, is excused and in the library. During this time,
Simon notices a new choirboy, **Paul Abbott** , and comes to the decision that
Paul should be neutered. Paul seems to be a good singer and mischievious.
Simon wonders WHY is he is thinking this, yet procedes to plan Paul's later
neutering.
Simon finds Manchit after Choir. Manchit tells him that Meggarty attacked a
boy named Adam Logan once, but the boy got away with only a torn shirt.
Manchit brings up Uncle Carl in the plan to get Meggarty caught.
Winter Sundays, dark at four, long and boring. Simon hates them and wonders
HOW he is going to get to see Uncle Carl. As luck would have it, Carl shows up
in his new gunmetal-gray Aston-Martin. So much for the Jaguar!
Uncle Carl, aka. Lord Manningham and viscount, prefers to be not so formally
addressed.
Carl announces a new business venture and wants to take Simon out to talk
about it. Simon brings Manchit along, mainly to keep from being seduced by his
Uncle. He is still confused about his sexuality.
Carl takes the two boys to The Grand, and talks to Manchit in his native
tongue of Telugu along the way. Manchit is very impressed.
The big news is that Uncle Carl has bought and restored an old house just
across the border from Lymington Haven. He plans to call it THE SIMON SCOTT
CENTRE. It is to be a country club and retreat as well. Simon is to have a
block of shares, a room and board, and income from it. Manchit is VERY
impressed.
The boys tell Carl about Martin Mooney being raped. They form a plan to have
Meggarty grab Manchit, while Simon gets evidence, pictures, etc. Later, Carl
will show up after coordinating it with cell phones with the boys, bringing
the police.
The plan works, and Manchit does some kind of sexual Indian trick to Meggarty,
immobilizing him and leaving him in great pain. He refuses to tell Simon what
he did, citing only that he learned it while at Temple as an Acolyte.
Meggarty gets arrested and sentenced to four years. Simon thinks he should
have gotten more than that.
Martin Mooney goes AWOL. It turns out, the dull boy hopped a train - a cross
country train! Seems he was investigating a car when it took off with him and
he just rode it.
**End of term** \- Simon packs and goes 'home'. Roddy and Mark follow on a
later train, giving their friend time along to think.
2 hours later - Melanie shows up in the Rover. After being gone for so long,
wild sex ensues! She missed Simon very much.
Simon tells Melanie all about Paul Abbott and how he must be neutered. Melanie
heartily agrees, and it makes her so horny talking about that she can hardly
stand it!
Melanie falls into her Dominatrix role and orders Simon to get ready, which
mean an enema, for a session of "Ride the Gelding." Melanie introduces Simon
to a new dildo. He is cursing the thought of it as she mounts him and puts it
up his bum. It feels enormous, but Simon is obedient and agrees to it.
The new dildo causes Simon to have his first all-out orgasm via his prostate.
It makes him collapse, and he is frightened to the point of even scaring
Melanie. He is determined that if the only way that he can ever orgasm is to
have a penis or dildo up his bum, then he NEVER wants to have another one.
**Christmas Morning** \- Simon is prepared for a quiet time, but guests come.
All of the boys from School with nowhere to go for Christmas are invited over
for dinner by Uncle Carl. Simon soon notices that as Jack Elliot once said,
there aren't a pair of knackers amongst them!
Beneath an 8-foot tree, Simon finds most of his presents are clothes - which
he needs. All of the other boys have presents as well. Mark's are mainly music
related, and Roddy's new Christmas CD plays in the background. Simon worries
about Mark, and wonders how many girls are drooling over Roddy's voice, not
knowing that he is a eunuch.
Dinnertime - most of the boys eat themselves into oblivion and are put to bed
here and there by Mrs. Hodges, the housekeeper.
Boxing Day - Uncle Carl proposes a trip to the new Club he's done up. Simon
doesn't tell about the name of it, and no one notices the plaque with his name
on it. Carl shows them Simon's new room, and Jack is very impressed.
The room beyond appears to be full of junk, until a light reveals that it is a
massive model railway for the club from School to use. Sandie Ross is beside
himself. Simon notices that his old model train is running, the old Burlington
and Northern Diesel, and becomes a bit misty at seeing it.
Simon cannot figure out WHY, as he looks over the place, that Uncle Carl has
done this for him. He also can't understand why he treats him so, encouraged
his neutering, and uses him as a lover. It makes no sense to Simon.
**New Years Resolution** \- To get Paul Abbott neutered with Melanie helping!
**April that following Spring** \- Simon is at the Centre again, and it is
all done and open for business. People seem to know who Simon is. Following an
odd noise, Simon finds a bronze nude statue of himself in the gardens. But the
statue is made as an intact boy, not a eunuch. Simon consideres evening the
score with a torch! He also wonders at the Cherubs and Putti here and there,
with their sturdy genitals, all intact. He thinks of how their real life
counterparts would have been "suitably pruned" down there to prevent them from
doing this and that. Yet immortalized in marble, they are not. Simon thinks of
"Artistic License."
(Simon's Revenge)
Melanie gets a new digital camera. She sends Simon a very erotic print.
**Late April, Sunday** \- While talking with Paul Abbott, Simon realizes that
his penis has shrunk to just over an inch.
Roddy goes in town, and takes the wrong bus back. He gets lost.
Simon informs us that Southdown Hall Lower School has a very special feature -
it has the highest proportion of boy eunuchs of any boarding school anyplace
else in the county.
Being exposed to boy eunuchs every day begins to "get to" Paul Abbott. We
learn that he has a girlfriend, Donna, but that he is unable to do much of
anything with her, sexually.
Simon suggests a chat with Roddy Fisher, after telling Paul what he can. Paul
surprises Simon by referring to Roddy as talented and beautiful.
Simon and Paul attend tea, at Mr. Carter's insistence. Roddy is absent.
Dr. Holroyd sends for Simon, when the Dr. is unable to locate Lord Manningham
(Uncle Carl). Uncle Carl doesn't like to use that title. The Dr. tells Simon
that Roddy has been brutally attacked and is in the hospital.
Roddy's injuries include being beaten with a large stick, trampled by spiked
running shoes, and being gang raped. He is found by Mr. Jackson near St.
Augustine's Church after being beaten and left.
Simon receives permission, and goes to visit Roddy the next day.
At this time, Carl is abroad again.
Mark is also abroad, visiting Professor Zuniger at Goettingen University for
another treatment in having his neutering reversed. The Professor is
optimistic; Simon is not.
Simon visits Roddy in the hospital. It turns out that the little boy grabbed
the wrong bus and wound up in the wrong part of town.
Roddy tells his story to Simon - he was attacked by three boys in black school
uniforms. The uniforms had an emblem much like a rocket on them, as perceived
by Roddy.
Simon fears that Roddy may be suicidal, after being raped again, since he was
used a sex toy by his adoptive older brother when he was taken in by the
Knight-Foxes.
Quite upset, Simon bids Roddy goodbye with a soft kiss on the cheek and stops
off at the school outfitters, Souter's. He identifies the uniform as that of
St. Anselme's Diocesan Catholic Upper School. Simon knows nothing of this
mysterious school. They do not play them at rugby, or anything else. Simon
seeks out Jimmy Brotherton, "the fount of all local knowledge."
Jimmy refers to St. Anselme's as "the leper colony". No one goes to St.
Anselme's if they can avoid it. The school even takes day boys from the local
residential care facility (Beechwood) and boys released for school under Youth
Custody.
Jimmy then makes a comment to Simon that "boys like you" left their mark on
history. Jimmy seems to know a lot about eunuchs.
As Simon goes off thinking about this comment, he thinks of the something that
he learned from Classical Greek, which he has just begun to study: "The glory
of youth is ruined," a comment made by Aeschylus. Aeschylus was referring to
castration.
There are no plans on neutering Jimmy, according to Simon.
A white-faced, nervous, second-former finds Simon, and tells him that Matron
is looking for him.
Simon reports to the san for his usual enema session. He is not impressed to
find that Matron has taken to wrapping a tight elastic band around the base of
the little penises of the eunuch boys to prevent them from wetting on her
floor. She states that boy eunuchs have little to no bladder control, which
Simon finds ridiculous. No mention of WHO wet on the floor during his enema.
Simon is helpless to do anything about this humiliating process, however, and
endures it.
Simon, after being cleaned and dismissed by Matron, asks Mr. Trefusis and Dr.
Holroyd why they don't play St. Anselme's. He is informed that St. Anselme's
belief is to come out on top, come hell or high water. They have no played
them since the debacle of a Rugby Union Final in 1998. No one would touch them
afterwards.
Simon is given "full latitude of discrection" by Dr. Holroyd in identifying
Roddy's attackers after he tells them what he knows already.
It seems that the Staff is already aware of Simon's talents at sluething.
Simon investigates the School after hours (it is a day school) and finds a
great amount of hateful grafitti painted on a wall there.
Simon returns to his own school and finds Graham "Jack" Elliot, who rounds
everyone up for the "council of war".
Little Calum Hislop, a eunuch by mumps, suggests infiltration. "It takes one
to find one," he declares.
Calum choses Michael Banner, Christopher Foulkes, Elliott minor, Jan
Raxworthy, Sean Ellison, and Peter Forster. All of these boys are on the small
side, and not really noticable. (Elliot minor is not Graham "Jack" Elliot.
Elliot minor's only claim to fame is having been neutered with no local
anesthetic, which he claims didn't hurt much at all.)
Next day - Mark returns from Prof. Zuniger's. He shows Simon the work so far,
and is now wearing pale blue boys' briefs, Y-front, instead of girls' white
underwear.
Simon is shocked to see that Mark now has a penis and a scrotum, which appears
to be full. Mark explains that he has neoprene implants, to stretch his
scrotum. Simon deems Mark's extended penis (lowered by a ligament cut) as
small and limp, but a penis all the same. Mark also states that his voice,
ruined by menengitis, is returning to a good alto form. He informs Simon that
his new testicles, being grown via stem-cell culture, are developing nicely.
Simon shares his plan to identify those who attacked Roddy, with Mark. All
they can do is wait for "The Magnificent Seven" to infiltrate and come back
with information.
That evening - Roddy comes back to the san at school. To Nurse's
disappointment, he is under strict orders for NO ENEMAS.
Simon goes to visit Roddy in the san. Roddy is a bit depressed, "sore", as
Simon tells it, about his circumcision. While Roddy was ecstatic to lose his
balls, he is not happy with his circumcision nor having been repeatedly
sodomized. Simon gives him a kiss goodbye and warns him that Paul Abbott will
be by to talk.
Paul talks to Roddy, then finds Simon. Simon shows him a picture of Melanie,
taken with her new digital camera. She is holding up a burdizzo. Paul is
stunned and wants to meet her.
Calum Hislop, effervescent and about to burst with news, finds Simon and tells
him what they've found.
Calum and his party locate four boy eunuchs at St. Anselme's. Laurie Lloyd,
dark hair, is the only one whose name we find out. Lloyd informs Simon's spies
that eunuch boys are badly treated at St. Anselme's, and are often beaten. One
of them even has a front tooth missing. Another of them, Bertie, has recently
been beaten up.
Sean Ellison turns out to be one of the last boys neutered by Dr. Jolly.
**Laurie Lloyd** gives the names of Roddy's attackers as **Keith Medford**
(The Crusher, looks like Dracula with his teeth), along with **Derek Robinson
and Liam Halloran**. They are all pre-release from Young Offenders.
Lloyd also describes how he was an orphan at a local orphanage, where ALL of
the boys are neutered by "having their balls pricked". This is to keep them
from messing around with the girls. One boy in Lloyd's party seems rather lean
and hungry and anxioius. Simon recognizes that look - being unable to DO
anything with girls is driving him wild!
Tyring to think of a plan for revenge, Simon visits St. Augustine's Church,
where Roddy was found. He endures a moment, a crisis of faith, in which he
doubts if there is a God. He can't understand why the things that have
happened to him and his friend, namely being neutered, was allowed to happen
at all. He finds that there was indeed a witness, one Mrs. Emma Nostell, who
lives across the way with her disabled husband. Having grown up on a farm, she
recognizes the signs of boy eunuchs and is very put out with how Roddy was
beaten and left. His attackers also befouled her flower gardens regularly. She
agrees to meeet with Uncle Carl, who is, of course, a Magistrate. Simon has
tea with her, and persuades her to testify.
Simon meets with the Staff and presents the idea of inviting St. Anselme's to
a competition, which will take place on the University's neutral grounds. Mr.
Carter knows Mr. Campbell, the head of Athletics at St. Anselme's, and helps
set it up.
Uncle Carl and Mr. Nostell are to be briefed and ready at the meet. Carl's
return from abroad, on what business, is NOT specified.
Simon later calls Melanie on his cellular and finds that the Neutersol Company
has sent her a free sample of Neutersol Plus. They arrange a meeting in the
hotel to neuter Paul Abbott, much like they did Tommy Chow. They call it "The
Holiday Inn Arrangement."
Next weekend - Simon and Melanie take Paul to the hotel, where Melanie neuters
him with the Neutersol Plus. She floods herself in excitement again, but does
manage to get it done.
Paul is quiet on the train back. Simon wonders how Donna will take it.
**Three weeks later** \- Early May, a lovely Saturday afternoon at the
University. Simon spies Paul Abbott kissing Laurie Lloyd, and realizes that
Paul is really gay. Simon wonders just what it is that the two boy eunuchs
plan to do with one another, though!
Simon is entered for the 800 meter run. It is his best event.
The boys from St. Anselme's don't do so well in any events. They are either
clumsy, disregard the rules, or are out of shape.
Derek Robinson insults the Roebuck Twins between events. Jon throws him when
he is barged by Derek and dislocates his shoulder. Liam Halloran comes to
help, and is worked over by Jamie. Liam is left with either a busted femur or
dislocated hip, Jamie isn't sure which. He'd never used that throw before.
Paramedics are called, and Mrs. Nostell identifies Derek and Liam to DI
Samuelson, who takes them into custody.
Crusher, still at large, had not been doing well at the meet. He turns up
looking for his mates, sees the police and Mrs. Nostell, and runs off. Simon
pursues him.
Crusher is not match for Simon, who runs him down on a broken bridge with a
large section gone. Murderous with rage, Simon screams at him to jump it.
Whether from fear of the police or the goading of a eunuch, Crusher jumps. He
falls.
Crusher falls into the power lines below, is electrocuted, and falls onto
train tracks below the bridge. His body is torn in half by a passing train as
Simon looks on.
Simon takes one look down and vomits.
Simon cleans up and receives a gold medal for the 800M; the Roebuck Twins take
silver and bronze. Uncle Carl points out that Simon's running shorts are
nearly transparent, and while on the podium, everyone got a good look at
Simon's parts, or lack thereof.
Simon and the choir perform a Requiem Mass for Crusher, but Roddy is not
there; he is not well enough as it is and it would have been too much. Crusher
is written off with "death by misadventure."
Uncle Carl takes over the running of St. Anselme's, much to Simon's chagrin.
He can only wonder WHY he'd want to! Big changes are planned for that school,
which the Staff of Southdown refers to as a "hellhole".
** _Editor's Note: PURE CONJECTURE_** \- While it is never mentioned, Simon
HAS been thinking about at least ONE private enterprise in the exportation of
boy-eunuchs for servants to the upper class here and there and around the
world. He knows of ONE ring for sure. (Read "Made Safe 1 and 2"). In the duty
of finding out Roddy's attackers and bringing them to justice, however, this
thought is dismissed quickly.
Late May, at the Simon Scott Centre - at Uncle Carl's Suite. Simon meets
Marcia, a young girl being trained up by Uncle Carl for 'something'. Marcia
states that she knows who Simon is, but that she wouldn't want to DO IT with a
boy anyway.
Simon learns that Paul Abbott, in the company of Laurie Lloyd, has gotten into
selling his body for money with older men. Paul is caught in a sting, but
Laurie escapes. Paul is put in rehab, where he is constantly deluged by
straight-sex videos and such featuring Asian girls and boy eunuchs. He is
quite miserable and begs Simon for help.
Simon asks Uncle Carl about what will happen to Derek and Liam. He is
expecting them to "have their balls pricked," but is shockingly disappointed
to find that they won't. Uncle Carl explains what a wonderful thing that
neutering is for boys, and what it has done for Simon. He cites that Simon is
fast on the way to becomming a celebrity, pointing out his many adventures and
awards, and cites that these two don't deserve to be neutered. It would
provide, Uncle Carl, says, competition for Simon.
Derek and Liam are taken back into custody. Uncle Carl orders them to be
"birched".
When Simon hears all of this, he runs to the window and bursts into tears,
thinking that his Uncle has missed the point totally.
To be continued?!
* * * |
Rodeo Ranch Resort | STRAIGHT, WARNING, NULLIFICATION, slavery and torture. | A combine of women open a desert resort in Mexico. The entertainmentconsists of watching women of Amazonia proportions render men unconscious in the ring. Once the hapless male is defeated, his cock and balls are severly tortured and removed from his body. The loaing male becomes a bondage torture and sex slave for the rest of his life. | RODEO RANCH RESORT
BY
SUBGAMBLE
To the reader this story contains explicit sex, bondage and torture it should
not be read by minors or posted where minors can read it. I these topics
offend you. Do not read this. Go elsewhere
In the back country of Mexico, there once was a thriving Mexican town about
150 miles from the United States border. Up until about 50 years ago it had
been a thriving Mexican city of around 50,000 people. In the center of town
the main attraction had been the bull ring which had seated around 30,000
people. Over the years the fertile farm soil had been over used. The soil was
depleted of all of its minerals and the farming industry died. There was no
money to sustain the merchants that had made the town a thriving metropolitan
area. Virtually over night the town had became a ghost town.
A wealthy group of Mexican woman had passed through the area and noticed the
abandoned bull ring. Now all of these women were extremely wealthy and were
all a little sexually kinky. They immediately saw that the abandoned town and
especially the bull ring would be absolutely perfect way for them to become
even more wealthy. Of course they would have to invest around the equivalent
of a hundred and fifty million dollars or a little more to be able to begin to
recoup their investment. Of course a hundred and fifty million dollars was
only a little more than peanuts to this group of women. Immediately the idea
was hatched. The group of women were able to acquire the entire area that had
comprised the now dead city, including the bull ring for a pittance. The group
of women figured it would take a minimum of two years to turn the ghost town
into a desert resort area that would be needed for what the women had in mind.
Contracts were let and construction on the resort began. After about a year
and half Esmeralda the spokeswoman for the group saw that in about another
year and a half the construction of the envisioned resort would be close to
completion. They began to place discreet ads in certain magazines that
appealed to those all over the world interested in a certain kind of sadistic
and kinky sex. Also the ads all be it toned down appeared in body building
magazines all over the world as well.
The ads invited any women of Amazonian proportions to apply for a job that
could make them fabulously wealthy. The ad was written to appeal to any women
that was near and especially over six feet in height. In addition they should
be muscular or at least be interested in strength training and becoming as
proficient as possible in any of the martial arts in which they had interest.
The ad further explained that any applicant successful or not would be given
an all expense trip to the resort and training facility. They would have a
week at the desert resort and another week at a posh Mexican sea side resort
if they were not selected or did not wish to take the women’s combine up on
their offer. The combine had originally figured that they would select an
original group of 25 Amazonian type women to be trained. They found that so
many applications poured in that they decided to raise the number they would
accept to 50. Esmeralda decided that they would invite the applicants to come
for an interview in groups of five.
Soon the first group of five applicants were selected. They were told a day
and a time to be at LAX. There they would be picked up by private jet and
transported to the resort in the Mexican desert. Of course if they were not
selected or chose not participate , it would be extremely hard, if not
impossible for them to replace their steps to the underground resort.
Upon arrival, after being settled in their quarters, the women were directed
to a large room. In the room there was a statuesque black haired Amazonian
women well over six feet tall seated at the table. She said, “My name is
Esmeralda. Come have a seat. I am pleased to inform you that you have all been
selected to become a member of our staff.
Esmeralda told the applicants to open their folders and read what would be
required. Esmeralda explained she would return in a little while after the
applicants had time to read the information, talk it over and digest it.
A summary of the information contained in the folders is a follows. Each of
the successful applicants would be given strength training that would allow
them to develop their strength to the maximum of their ability. In addition
they would be trained in any of the marital arts they wished by first class
instructors from all over the world. They would have full run of the resort
and everything needed would be provided for successful applicants as long as
they were in training.
The second part was this. After each applicant had been trained to her maximum
strength and ability. She would be required to participate in a no rules match
with a male in the bull ring. For each match she won, she would be given
$100,000 deposited in any account anywhere in the world she wished. Each
applicant would required to participate in five matches. After that they would
be free to remain and continue to participate in matches as long as they wish
under the same conditions. Any applicant who one her five matches would be
able to depart with a cool half million dollars. All expenses at the resort
would be taken care of by the combine.
It was further explained that any losing male would be immediately nullified
right there in the ring as soon as possible after the match ended. His cock
and balls would be removed without anesthetic. As soon as his cock and balls
were removed the hapless male would be given a shot to put him out and taken
to the infirmary. Once in the infirmary his wounds would be repaired. As the
best possible medical service would be available the hapless male would be
completely normal after about two days. He would then be taken to the dungeon
that had been constructed under the bull ring and confined in a cell. He would
remain there to be severely tortured. Any of the paying patrons viewing the
matches would be able to watch the torture sessions. If they wished they could
suggest ways the male victim would be tortured. If possible the suggestions
received would be carried out by the torturers. The patrons, if they wished,
could participate in the torture. The ten losing males would remain imprisoned
under the bull ring until the next match. Any female on the staff at the
resort could torture an inmate whenever they wished. Right before the next set
of matches the hapless males would either be sold to some potentate in a
country who would use him as he wished, in some rare cases be released without
knowing where he had been or snuffed and buried in the desert.
The folder went on to explain that there was one major draw back. If a women
lost her match, she would immediately become the property of the male that
defeated her. The winning male could transport the loser anywhere in he wished
and do whatever he wished to her. It went on to explain that everything
possible would be done to insure that the women were victorious. However there
was the possibility that one could lose. If there happened to be an
exceptionally large or muscular male, he would have to fight two or even three
women in the ring. This would keep the odds pretty much equal in favor of the
Amazon performers.
Esmeralda returned, sat down and answered the dozens of questions the
applicants had. She then told them to take two more days to think it over and
enjoy what the resort had to offer. When they returned, they could sign and
ironclad contract that would see that they participated in the five required
matches. If they chose not to remain they could enjoy the resort for the
remainder of the week and then be treated to another week’s vacation at a posh
Mexican seaside resort.
After two days when the women returned, four of them accepted the offer and
signed their contracts. One did not wish to take part in the Amazonian
activities offered by the resort. All of the women were permitted to enjoy the
resort for the remainder of the week. The one that did not accept was paid all
expenses and taken to a posh Mexican resort for another week of vacation. The
four that were accepted were returned to LAX and given two weeks to settle
their affairs. Then they would return to LAX and be again flown to the resort
by private jet.
As the interviews continued, Esmeralda found that approximately three and a
half women, on the averaged out of every five applicants accepted the offered
contracts. It was not long until all of the slots were filled. Once in
residence the successful applicants began their long rigorous training
program.
From consultations with the instructors Esmeralda determined that it would
take approximately two years to have all of the 50 selected women in top form.
By then all of the construction of the resort would be finished. A year after
all of the Amazonian were in residence discreet ads began to appear in
magazines all over the word appealing to those interested in sadomasochistic
sex about a special type of fighting match. Also ads appeared for male
fighters willing to take on an Amazonian women.
Inquiries began to pour in. Esmeralda decided that for the first group of ten
matches they would invite 5000 patrons to attend. The cost for each patron to
view the matches and have a two week vacation at the resort would be $50,000.
In addition each patron would have to wager $5000 or more dollars on the time
it would take the victor to win each match, man or women. If a patron in a
seat did not wager $5000 for each match he or she would be escorted out the
bull ring.
Finally all was ready for the first round of matches. Invitations were sent
out to six thousand potential patrons. In no time full payment was received
for the full five thousand. In fact over 500 payments had to be refunded.
Unless something unforeseen happened, the first event would be a huge success.
The combine would take in one hundred and fifty million from ticket sales. The
betting would total fifty million. Of that the combine figured they would win
at least 50% of the bets. One hundred and eighty million dollars would or more
would be taken in from the first event. The combine figured that if they could
hold four events a year the combine would be paid for and virtually three
fourths of each years income would be pure profit. In addition the resort
would advertise for desert vacations for each two month period between the
moths when matches were held. All in all if things continued in the same
pattern they would greatly add to their already inconsiderable wealth.
Finally the instructors reported that the Amazonian recruits were all in
perfect condition. They were all trained to the point that it would take a
martial arts champion or a cruel twist of fate for any than a true champion to
defeat one of the women.
The combine had no trouble finding all the male participants they needed. The
fantasy of having a beautiful looking Amazon as their slave caused men to
think more with their dicks than with their brains. The first group of male
applicants consisted of more than 5000 applications and more applications were
being received. The combine wanted their male combatants to be in the range of
from 160 to 180 pounds or a little more . They wanted men that looked ripped
and solid but were not too muscular. This would give most of the women a
slight, if not immense advantage depending upon the fighting skills of the
selected men.
All of the applicants were of a mindset that there would be no way that they
could be defeated in a no holds barred match with a mere woman. The skimmed
over the paragraphs that explained that the losing male would be nullified,
enslaved and tortured. They totally ignored the idea that they would be
enslaved and tortured for the rest of their lives, All they could think of was
having a world class beauty of a women to be their slave and do with as they
wished,
Now that I have explained the background, the real story can begin. My name is
Tom. I am the employed or enslaved as the case may be by my mistress, Diana,
She is head of her own corporation that markets high end clothing to wealthy
people. She is also a member of the combine that designed the resort in the
Mexican desert. Diana is fabulously wealthy. Diana paid my way into the event
and gave me funds with which to bet. I found out about the above information
through correspondence that Diana had with Esmeralda the head of the combine.
I serve mostly as her personal secretary in addition to being her bondage toy
and whipping boy.
We arrived at the resort the Sunday before the matches were to be held on the
upcoming Saturday. Diana had a chance to rest and relax from her high pressure
business situation. Since the dungeon was open for use by any of the patrons,
Diana immediately dragged me to the dungeon tightly hog tied me and locked my
neck to ring on the wall of the cell. Diana kept tied and bound in the cell
the entire week until the night before the matches. She tortured me and
whipped me daily for relaxation. Then she was off to enjoy the resort for the
rest of the day. On the Friday night before the matches were to be held, I was
locked in chains and taken to Diana’s room. I was tightly bound and had to
serve every orifice of her body the entire night. Finally Saturday morning
arrived. I was allowed to shower, and shave. I enjoyed a gourmet lunch and
dinner with Diana. At eight o’clock in the evening we seated in the bull ring
with an excellent second row seat next to the fighting ring.
Every patron had to post his betting slip in a slot on the chair in front of
him or her. Ushers checked to make sure every one had a betting slip. As one
had to predict the duration of the match with in fifteen seconds it was
doubtful that I would win anything. This would be true of most of the patrons
present. Of course some lucky few, as always, would guess correctly,
When all was checked and ready, Esmeralda enter the ring with a microphone.
Her melodious voice boomed out over the loud speaker system.
“Ladies and gentlemen welcome to the Rodeo Ranch Resort. We will present for
your enjoyment this evening 10 matches of hapless males pitted against our
beautiful strong Amazonian women. As is outlined in your program, the losing
male will immediately have is cock and balls severely tortured and removed
from his body right here in the ring with no anesthetic. Of course after the
deed is done, the losing male will be rendered unconscious. Then he will be
taken to our state of the art infirmary and be tended to. We have some of the
best doctors in the world on staff here during the matches. We also have a
first class alternative medication program that will have the nullified male
almost back to normal in two days. At that time he will be incarcerated in one
of our dungeon cells. He will be available on a first come first serve basis
for any patron to bind, use or torture as they see fit. If you live in certain
areas of the world, a losing male may be available for purchase as your
private slave. You must have a way to transport him out of the country in a
case under diplomatic seal. If more than one patron is interested in
purchasing the same slave there will be an auction held. The highest bidder
will receive the male as their personal property.”
“Secondly if an Amazon loses a match she will be hog tied, gagged and
blindfolded right here in the room. She will be enclosed in a special case and
the winning male may take her wherever he wishes. She will be his very own
personal property.”
“Of course all matches are no holds barred matches. Both participants will be
naked. Essentially each combatant may do whatever he or she thinks is
necessary to win the match.”
“Without further ado we will get on with the matches.”
“This first match will pit Jeff from the USA who is six feet one inch tall and
weighs in at 170 pounds. Jeff’s specialty is boxing.”
“In the other corner, facing Jeff, will be the beautiful Athena from Greece.
She is an even six feet tall and weighs in at one hundred eighty pounds of
solid muscle.”
“In all cases the male challengers will be introduced first, followed by the
introduction of the Amazon champions.”
“Jeff come on out here an pose for the patrons.”
There was a stir in the audience as a sandy haired male appeared from one of
the entry ramps. To loud cacophony boos and hisses from the majority female
audience Jeff entered the ring between the ropes. He looked to be fairly
ripped but not overly strong. He posed for the audience producing more cat
calls from mostly the women present.
“Now ladies and gentlemen it is my pleasure to introduce our first Amazon
champion, Athena. Her specialty is wrestling. In particular she loves to apply
a had scissors that crushes her opponent into unconsciousness. We have
observed her in training here at the resort. Once Athena applies her deadly
head scissors lock, no one has escaped until they have been rendered
unconscious.”
“Athena, come on out here and pose for the audience,”
The audience stirred a second time. An in creditable looking , beautiful, dark
haired woman emerged from one of the entrance ramps. As Athena entered there
was a loud roar of approval from the audience. Athena entered the ring.
She stood and posed for the audience. She had large looking biceps that were
well ripped and would be the envy of many men. But it was her legs that drew
my attention. She had those long hard calf muscles that really turn men on.
Just looking at her legs caused my penis to become rock hard. I am a leg man.
There was no one ounce of fat on her thighs. Athena’s thighs looked to be
extremely strong and made of steel. For that matter Athena’s body looked to be
solid metal. Her breasts did not even jiggle as she walked about, proudly
showing off her delicious looking body.
Esmeralda gave one more explanation. “Ladies and gentlemen, once the bell is
rung to begin the match, the matches will continue without interruption until
there is a winner. Just a reminder this is a no rules match. Constantans take
your corners.”
As soon as Esmeralda left the ring, the contestants were in their corners and
the bell rang to begin the match.
Both fighters hesitantly circled each other sizing up the opponent. Suddenly
Jeff launched a wide sweeping punch to Athena’s midriff. The blow partially
landed but Athena showed no apparent reaction to the blow. The strength of the
punch caused Jeff to be off balance. Athena, immediately took advantage of the
situation. She grabbed the arm that had launched the punch, twisted up behind
Jeff’s back in a cruel, painful hammer lock. Athena locked her other arm
around Jeff’s neck under his chin. It was then easy for Athena to twist Jeff
down to the mat. She scrabbled around Jeff until she got her powerful legs
around Jeff’s waist and began to squeeze. It was immediately apparent that
Jeff was in dire circumstances. He was in great pain from the cruel
excruciating hammer lock. It seemed impossible for Jeff to do dislodge Athena
and escape from his predicament. It looked as if this match was over in the
first few minutes. Jeff was quickly losing strength. The crowd was in a frenzy
urging Athena to quickly finish Jeff so they could see him tortured and
nullified. Some how with strength born out of desperation Jeff was able to
muster a strong bending of his body and escape from Athena’s clutches. However
Jeff was not out of the woods. He could barely move his right arm as it was
still mostly paralyzed from the painful hammer lock. Jeff was partially bent
over trying to regain some breath for strength. Athena immediately took
advantage of Jeff’s weakened position. Athena launched a powerful right hook
to Jeff’s abs. Jeff was not in the same condition as Athena. Having the air
driven from his lungs by the powerful punch caused Jeff to bend over even
more. As his head was coming down Athena slammed her knee hard into Jeff’s
jaw. Jeff fell to the mat virtually unconscious. I and the audience though
Athena would end the match right then and there.
Athena must have had at least some sadistic tendencies. Instead of finishing
off Jeff, she grabbed his legs into a Boston Crab position. Athena rolled Jeff
over on his stomach, grabbed both of his ankles raised them in the air and sat
in the small of Jeff’s ankles. Athena must have stopped at just the point
before Jeff’s backbone would snap. Jeff could not move much less escape from
the punishing Boston Crab position. As Jeff regained his senses, he began to
scream and beg for mercy. His pleas fell on deaf ears. If anything Athena
increased the pressure even more on Jeff’s back. Jeff began to scream that he
would give up or do anything to get out of Athena’s punishing hold. At this
time, Esmeralda announced to the audience.
“Jeff you know this is a no rules match. Unless you can escape, Athena is free
to apply hold for as long as she wishes and make it as painful as she wishes.
Now ether escape or suffer the consequences.”
This produced much clapping and a loud roar of approval from the audience,
Athena continued to apply the hold for an additional fifteen minutes or a
little more,
After she figured Jeff would be completely helpless she released her hold.
Athena yelled out to the audience.
“Jeff you have ten seconds. If you can do it you get one free shot at me.”
Jeff struggled to rise to his feet or struggle to get to Athena. The Boston
Crab had taken its toll on Jeff. He was completely paralyzed and could not
move. After a brief wait Athena rolled Jeff over on his side, laid down on the
mat and place Jeff’s head between her legs. She immediately applied as much
pressure as possible. You could see Jeff’s head turn read and then begin to
take on a purplish hue At this point Esmeralda entered the ring. Periodically
she would left one of Jeff’s arms in the air and let it drop on the mat. The
first three or four times, Jeff tried to move his arm to dislodge Athena’s
head scissors. Esmeralda lifted Jeff’s arm one more time. Jeff’s arm flopped
to the mat and remained motionless. Esmeralda waited a few more minutes then
tapped Athena on her shoulder.
Shortly after Athena applied her leg scissors to Jeff’s head, I shot my load
into my pants. I was so turned on by seeing Athena’s powerful, beautifully
muscular legs locked around Jeff’s head. I had fantasized thousands of times
about being in the exact position in which Jeff found himself. I hoped Diana
didn’t notice what had happened. If she had I knew I would be severely
punished.
Esmeralda took her microphone and explained to the audience; “Jeff is now
unconscious and Athena is the victor. Will the attendants please prepare the
ring for he nullification of Jeff.”
Athena continued to apply her head scissors all be it with what looked like a
lot less force. A strange looking table was wheeled into the ring. Athena
released her hold and two immensely strong women hefted Jeff onto the table.
The ingenuity of the table quickly became apparent. Jeff’s upper body was
bound tightly to the table with straps around his head, neck, across his chest
just above the nipples and round his waist. Jeff’s arms were strapped to a
third pair of legs on the table. His arms were fastened to the table just
below his shoulders, above and below his elbows and at his wrists.
There were extensions at the foot of the table. Each of Jeff’s thighs were
strapped tightly to the extension in two places. The extensions were then
widened spreading Jeff’s legs as far apart as possible. At the end of the
extension there were additional legs. Jeff’s legs were strapped to these added
legs just below the knee and at the ankle.
Jeff’s cock and balls were hanging in air in a way the could be worked on in
whatever way was wished.
Esmeralda again spoke into the microphone.
“If she wishes the victorious Amazon can determine how the males cock and
balls will be tortured and even do it herself if she wishes. Athena has
decided that Jeff will have glass tube inserted into the full length of his
penis. Then Jeff’s balls will be nailed to a board. A third nail will be
driven into the head of his penis into a board. Athena will then attach the
appropriate wires to each nail. Athena then will take a wooden mallet and
hammer Jeff’s penis with it. This will crush the glass tube in side of Jeff’s
penis causing great pain. After all of the glass rod has been crushed inside
Jeff’s penis, current will be applied to the nails. The nails will heat up and
cook Jeff’s cock and balls while they are still attached to his body.”
“We can now gag Jeff or let his screams be herd by the patrons, If you want
him gagged yell now.”
There were a few scattered yells.
Esmeralda continued.“If you want to hear Jeff’s screams yell now.”
There was a very loud roar of approval.
Athena took the wooden mallet and approached Jeff’s cock and balls. Since I
had a perfect view of Athena’s legs I was virtually drooling at their beauty.
Athena raised the mallet and gave Jeff’s cock a sharp blow with it. This cause
Jeff to emit a loud wail slowly tailing off. Athena pleased, with the result
pounded the entire length of Jeff’s cock. With each blow the decibel level of
Jeff’s screams increased. After she was satisfied Athena took a black box in
hand and turned the dials. Two red lights immediately glowed on the face of
the box. It did not seem possible but Jeff’s yells and screams became even
louder. After a few minutes I sensed a small odor of burning flesh, Sure
enough parts of Jeff’s penis and balls were turning red. After quite a while
Jeff’s cock and balls looked to be thoroughly cooked. Athena turned off the
power.
A man I white stepped into the ring. He produced a tray in which there were a
few implements. He took a scalpel and slowly removed Jeff’s testicles and
dropped them in the pan. There was very little blood. Cooking Jeff’s cock and
balls must have closed of the blood vessels. Next he slowly sliced off Jeff’s
penis with the same result. Jeff was given an injection which immediately
quieted him and he was removed from the ring.
I will not bore the reader with the rest of the matches. All matches had the
same result. The Amazon champion was the winner. All of the males had their
cocks and balls severely tortured. Then they were removed.
After the final match Esmeralda came into the ring and took up the microphone.
“If there is any male in the audience that will like to battle one of our
Amazon champions, come down to the ring. You may have your choice to fight an
Amazon you have seen in combat or let us choose one for you. Of course the
rules remain the same.
Four men stepped forward and the matches continued. All be it they did not
last long. In fact each match lasted little more than three minutes. Each of
the four males were given a torture, nullified and removed.
When the first extra match began, Dian surprised me.
“Tom wouldn’t you like to feel Athena’s legs crushing you into a deep dark
oblivion. You know you would love that. Why don’t you volunteer to fight
Athena.”
I immediately got a rock hard cock. Just the idea of having Athena’s beautiful
long muscular legs around my head caused my cock to almost erupt for a third
time.
I replied, “Diana I don’t want to be nullified and I do not think I could
stand the torture.”
“Tom I know that seeing Athena squeeze her victim into unconsciousness really
turned you on. Come on go for it. You might get lucky and win, You really a
bad wrestler.”
Diana, before I could stop her reached down and felt the crotch area of my
pants.
“Tom It is just as I suspected. You are rock hard from just my talking you
having Athena’s legs around your head has gotten your cock as hard as Iron.
From the fell of things you shot your wad more than once, while watching
Athena in the ring.”
“Come on Tom you know you want it. Get in that ring and submit to Athena. This
is your chance of a life time to get that which you have fantasized about. You
may never again get the chance.”
I replied, “There is no way I am going to get into the ring with that man
eater. She virtually destroyed Jeff. I am sure I would not last as long and
suffer even more.”
At the same time I was thinking, God how I would like to get into that ring
and feel Athena crush me into blackness. Oh god that would feel so good.
By this time the last of the new victims had been dispatched into nullified
slavery.
Esmeralda asked the audience if there were any other men interested in
competing to see if they could take home an Amazon slave. Two more men stepped
forward.
All during the two matches and the torture, nullification of two more victims
Diana kept teasing me and telling me how good it would be if I would fight
Athena. By the end of the second match I was thinking so much with my cock
that I would agree to anything Diana asked of me.
One last time Diana said, “Are you sure you don’t want to feel Athena’s legs
locked around you?”
It was as if I were in a deep dream. I didn’t believe it but I heard myself
saying, “God I would like nothing more than to have a match with Athena.”
After that there was no turning back, Diana made sure of that. As soon as
Esmeralda entered the ring with her microphone, Diana yelled out, “We have one
more victim that would like to have a match with Athena.”
Esmeralda replied, “Send him on down. Athena would love to have another set of
cock and balls in her trophy case.”
Remaining in the dream, I saw my self get up and walk down to where Esmeralda
was outside the ring. I was ordered to strip which I did by rote.
Esmeralda entered the ring and announced, “We have one more victim, ah
contestant that would like to fight Athena. Tom weighs in at 160 pounds, is
five feet eight and has no special fighting skill. Tom come on up in the ring
and show off your body to the audience. To a loud outbreak of hisses and boos
I entered the ring.
Athena entered the ring to a loud and long cheer.
I heard the bell ring, Before I could take a step, I was thrown on the mat and
my legs were twisted into some kind of leg lock that hurt like hell. I reached
back to try to relieve the pressure. Athena grabbed my arm and twisted it into
a painful hammer lock. I foolishly reached back with the other arm. It also
was grabbed and forced into hammer lock. Then Athena leaned forward with all
her weight. I thought my legs were going to break and my arms be twisted out
of my sockets. I heard some screaming, yelling and begging for mercy. Then I
realized it was me. I continued to beg for mercy.
I realized the fog of the pain that Esmeralda was saying, “If you want your
pain to end you must escape from Athena’s grasp. She is welcome to keep you
there as long as she wishes.”
With that Athena increased the pressure on all four of my limbs. All I could
do was keep emitting one long wail.
Athena yelled to the audience, “Do you want me to release him and put him out
with my head scissors?”
The audience responded with a loud chorus of, “No make the foolish wimp
suffer.”
Athena kept me in pain for what seemed like forever. Then all at once there
was less pain, I heard Athena saying, “You foolish little man. I will stand
here and do nothing for the next minute. In that time you may hit me as many
times as you can manage.”
I could not even remove my arms or legs from where they had be held in the
painful wrestling holds. I hard Athena saying, “Time to go night, night little
boy. She rolled me on my side and I felt her legs close around my head. I
thought it impossible but just before there was blackness, I shot my third
load of the night right there in the ring.
I came to wondering why I couldn’t move. Then I realized I was bound to the
nullification table.
Esmeralda again announced “Athena would like to do the honors. She is going to
use her mallet to smash Tom’s balls to pulp. The she has a set of steel plates
she is going to clamp on Tom’s penis and rip it to shreds.”
Athena placed a steel table and tape my penis to my stomach, She made sure my
balls were fully exposed on the iron table, She took her wooden mallet and
slammed it into my left ball as hard as she could. The pain was so bad it took
my breath away. In addition my throat was so sore from yelling in the ring
that I could do little more than utter a croak. My right ball was given the
same treatment. Then Athena pounded on my balls until thee was nothing left
but pulp.
Next Athena took two plates that had long pointed spikes close together. Thee
were bolts through the plates. Athena placed one plate on top of my cock and
the other one on the bottom of it. Then she began to clamp the plates
together. She tightened the bolts until the spikes of one plate met the other
plate. Then Athena ran a long bar through raised holes on the top plate. She
use the bar as leverage to twist the plates around my cock first one way and
then the other. My cock was now almost shredded. Athena finished the job by
fastening a leash to the plates and pulling them off of my cock. Then all went
dark. I awakened in a cell of the dungeon under the bull ring.
It was not long until Diana came to visit. She told me she had purchased me
and I was now her slave. When we returned to Diana’s lavish estate. In the
basement she secured me in a cell which I had never seen. She closed the door
and informed that the rest of the room would be turned into a dungeon. I would
be severely tortured and left there for the remainder of my life. Diana said
that since the tortures would b intense I would not last too long. I was also
told that as I now had no cock she had chosen a new secretary named Paul.
Diana told me Paul would be her escort to the next event at Rodeo Ranch
Resort.
Feedback please.
[email protected]
RODEO RANCH RESORT
BY
SUBGAMBLE
To the reader this story contains explicit sex, bondage and torture it should
not be read by minors or posted where minors can read it. I these topics
offend you. Do not read this. Go elsewhere
In the back country of Mexico, there once was a thriving Mexican town about
150 miles from the United States border. Up until about 50 years ago it had
been a thriving Mexican city of around 50,000 people. In the center of town
the main attraction had been the bull ring which had seated around 30,000
people. Over the years the fertile farm soil had been over used. The soil was
depleted of all of its minerals and the farming industry died. There was no
money to sustain the merchants that had made the town a thriving metropolitan
area. Virtually over night the town had became a ghost town.
A wealthy group of Mexican woman had passed through the area and noticed the
abandoned bull ring. Now all of these women were extremely wealthy and were
all a little sexually kinky. They immediately saw that the abandoned town and
especially the bull ring would be absolutely perfect way for them to become
even more wealthy. Of course they would have to invest around the equivalent
of a hundred and fifty million dollars or a little more to be able to begin to
recoup their investment. Of course a hundred and fifty million dollars was
only a little more than peanuts to this group of women. Immediately the idea
was hatched. The group of women were able to acquire the entire area that had
comprised the now dead city, including the bull ring for a pittance. The group
of women figured it would take a minimum of two years to turn the ghost town
into a desert resort area that would be needed for what the women had in mind.
Contracts were let and construction on the resort began. After about a year
and half Esmeralda the spokeswoman for the group saw that in about another
year and a half the construction of the envisioned resort would be close to
completion. They began to place discreet ads in certain magazines that
appealed to those all over the world interested in a certain kind of sadistic
and kinky sex. Also the ads all be it toned down appeared in body building
magazines all over the world as well.
The ads invited any women of Amazonian proportions to apply for a job that
could make them fabulously wealthy. The ad was written to appeal to any women
that was near and especially over six feet in height. In addition they should
be muscular or at least be interested in strength training and becoming as
proficient as possible in any of the martial arts in which they had interest.
The ad further explained that any applicant successful or not would be given
an all expense trip to the resort and training facility. They would have a
week at the desert resort and another week at a posh Mexican sea side resort
if they were not selected or did not wish to take the women’s combine up on
their offer. The combine had originally figured that they would select an
original group of 25 Amazonian type women to be trained. They found that so
many applications poured in that they decided to raise the number they would
accept to 50. Esmeralda decided that they would invite the applicants to come
for an interview in groups of five.
Soon the first group of five applicants were selected. They were told a day
and a time to be at LAX. There they would be picked up by private jet and
transported to the resort in the Mexican desert. Of course if they were not
selected or chose not participate , it would be extremely hard, if not
impossible for them to replace their steps to the underground resort.
Upon arrival, after being settled in their quarters, the women were directed
to a large room. In the room there was a statuesque black haired Amazonian
women well over six feet tall seated at the table. She said, “My name is
Esmeralda. Come have a seat. I am pleased to inform you that you have all been
selected to become a member of our staff.
Esmeralda told the applicants to open their folders and read what would be
required. Esmeralda explained she would return in a little while after the
applicants had time to read the information, talk it over and digest it.
A summary of the information contained in the folders is a follows. Each of
the successful applicants would be given strength training that would allow
them to develop their strength to the maximum of their ability. In addition
they would be trained in any of the marital arts they wished by first class
instructors from all over the world. They would have full run of the resort
and everything needed would be provided for successful applicants as long as
they were in training.
The second part was this. After each applicant had been trained to her maximum
strength and ability. She would be required to participate in a no rules match
with a male in the bull ring. For each match she won, she would be given
$100,000 deposited in any account anywhere in the world she wished. Each
applicant would required to participate in five matches. After that they would
be free to remain and continue to participate in matches as long as they wish
under the same conditions. Any applicant who one her five matches would be
able to depart with a cool half million dollars. All expenses at the resort
would be taken care of by the combine.
It was further explained that any losing male would be immediately nullified
right there in the ring as soon as possible after the match ended. His cock
and balls would be removed without anesthetic. As soon as his cock and balls
were removed the hapless male would be given a shot to put him out and taken
to the infirmary. Once in the infirmary his wounds would be repaired. As the
best possible medical service would be available the hapless male would be
completely normal after about two days. He would then be taken to the dungeon
that had been constructed under the bull ring and confined in a cell. He would
remain there to be severely tortured. Any of the paying patrons viewing the
matches would be able to watch the torture sessions. If they wished they could
suggest ways the male victim would be tortured. If possible the suggestions
received would be carried out by the torturers. The patrons, if they wished,
could participate in the torture. The ten losing males would remain imprisoned
under the bull ring until the next match. Any female on the staff at the
resort could torture an inmate whenever they wished. Right before the next set
of matches the hapless males would either be sold to some potentate in a
country who would use him as he wished, in some rare cases be released without
knowing where he had been or snuffed and buried in the desert.
The folder went on to explain that there was one major draw back. If a women
lost her match, she would immediately become the property of the male that
defeated her. The winning male could transport the loser anywhere in he wished
and do whatever he wished to her. It went on to explain that everything
possible would be done to insure that the women were victorious. However there
was the possibility that one could lose. If there happened to be an
exceptionally large or muscular male, he would have to fight two or even three
women in the ring. This would keep the odds pretty much equal in favor of the
Amazon performers.
Esmeralda returned, sat down and answered the dozens of questions the
applicants had. She then told them to take two more days to think it over and
enjoy what the resort had to offer. When they returned, they could sign and
ironclad contract that would see that they participated in the five required
matches. If they chose not to remain they could enjoy the resort for the
remainder of the week and then be treated to another week’s vacation at a posh
Mexican seaside resort.
After two days when the women returned, four of them accepted the offer and
signed their contracts. One did not wish to take part in the Amazonian
activities offered by the resort. All of the women were permitted to enjoy the
resort for the remainder of the week. The one that did not accept was paid all
expenses and taken to a posh Mexican resort for another week of vacation. The
four that were accepted were returned to LAX and given two weeks to settle
their affairs. Then they would return to LAX and be again flown to the resort
by private jet.
As the interviews continued, Esmeralda found that approximately three and a
half women, on the averaged out of every five applicants accepted the offered
contracts. It was not long until all of the slots were filled. Once in
residence the successful applicants began their long rigorous training
program.
From consultations with the instructors Esmeralda determined that it would
take approximately two years to have all of the 50 selected women in top form.
By then all of the construction of the resort would be finished. A year after
all of the Amazonian were in residence discreet ads began to appear in
magazines all over the word appealing to those interested in sadomasochistic
sex about a special type of fighting match. Also ads appeared for male
fighters willing to take on an Amazonian women.
Inquiries began to pour in. Esmeralda decided that for the first group of ten
matches they would invite 5000 patrons to attend. The cost for each patron to
view the matches and have a two week vacation at the resort would be $50,000.
In addition each patron would have to wager $5000 or more dollars on the time
it would take the victor to win each match, man or women. If a patron in a
seat did not wager $5000 for each match he or she would be escorted out the
bull ring.
Finally all was ready for the first round of matches. Invitations were sent
out to six thousand potential patrons. In no time full payment was received
for the full five thousand. In fact over 500 payments had to be refunded.
Unless something unforeseen happened, the first event would be a huge success.
The combine would take in one hundred and fifty million from ticket sales. The
betting would total fifty million. Of that the combine figured they would win
at least 50% of the bets. One hundred and eighty million dollars would or more
would be taken in from the first event. The combine figured that if they could
hold four events a year the combine would be paid for and virtually three
fourths of each years income would be pure profit. In addition the resort
would advertise for desert vacations for each two month period between the
moths when matches were held. All in all if things continued in the same
pattern they would greatly add to their already inconsiderable wealth.
Finally the instructors reported that the Amazonian recruits were all in
perfect condition. They were all trained to the point that it would take a
martial arts champion or a cruel twist of fate for any than a true champion to
defeat one of the women.
The combine had no trouble finding all the male participants they needed. The
fantasy of having a beautiful looking Amazon as their slave caused men to
think more with their dicks than with their brains. The first group of male
applicants consisted of more than 5000 applications and more applications were
being received. The combine wanted their male combatants to be in the range of
from 160 to 180 pounds or a little more . They wanted men that looked ripped
and solid but were not too muscular. This would give most of the women a
slight, if not immense advantage depending upon the fighting skills of the
selected men.
All of the applicants were of a mindset that there would be no way that they
could be defeated in a no holds barred match with a mere woman. The skimmed
over the paragraphs that explained that the losing male would be nullified,
enslaved and tortured. They totally ignored the idea that they would be
enslaved and tortured for the rest of their lives, All they could think of was
having a world class beauty of a women to be their slave and do with as they
wished,
Now that I have explained the background, the real story can begin. My name is
Tom. I am the employed or enslaved as the case may be by my mistress, Diana,
She is head of her own corporation that markets high end clothing to wealthy
people. She is also a member of the combine that designed the resort in the
Mexican desert. Diana is fabulously wealthy. Diana paid my way into the event
and gave me funds with which to bet. I found out about the above information
through correspondence that Diana had with Esmeralda the head of the combine.
I serve mostly as her personal secretary in addition to being her bondage toy
and whipping boy.
We arrived at the resort the Sunday before the matches were to be held on the
upcoming Saturday. Diana had a chance to rest and relax from her high pressure
business situation. Since the dungeon was open for use by any of the patrons,
Diana immediately dragged me to the dungeon tightly hog tied me and locked my
neck to ring on the wall of the cell. Diana kept tied and bound in the cell
the entire week until the night before the matches. She tortured me and
whipped me daily for relaxation. Then she was off to enjoy the resort for the
rest of the day. On the Friday night before the matches were to be held, I was
locked in chains and taken to Diana’s room. I was tightly bound and had to
serve every orifice of her body the entire night. Finally Saturday morning
arrived. I was allowed to shower, and shave. I enjoyed a gourmet lunch and
dinner with Diana. At eight o’clock in the evening we seated in the bull ring
with an excellent second row seat next to the fighting ring.
Every patron had to post his betting slip in a slot on the chair in front of
him or her. Ushers checked to make sure every one had a betting slip. As one
had to predict the duration of the match with in fifteen seconds it was
doubtful that I would win anything. This would be true of most of the patrons
present. Of course some lucky few, as always, would guess correctly,
When all was checked and ready, Esmeralda enter the ring with a microphone.
Her melodious voice boomed out over the loud speaker system.
“Ladies and gentlemen welcome to the Rodeo Ranch Resort. We will present for
your enjoyment this evening 10 matches of hapless males pitted against our
beautiful strong Amazonian women. As is outlined in your program, the losing
male will immediately have is cock and balls severely tortured and removed
from his body right here in the ring with no anesthetic. Of course after the
deed is done, the losing male will be rendered unconscious. Then he will be
taken to our state of the art infirmary and be tended to. We have some of the
best doctors in the world on staff here during the matches. We also have a
first class alternative medication program that will have the nullified male
almost back to normal in two days. At that time he will be incarcerated in one
of our dungeon cells. He will be available on a first come first serve basis
for any patron to bind, use or torture as they see fit. If you live in certain
areas of the world, a losing male may be available for purchase as your
private slave. You must have a way to transport him out of the country in a
case under diplomatic seal. If more than one patron is interested in
purchasing the same slave there will be an auction held. The highest bidder
will receive the male as their personal property.”
“Secondly if an Amazon loses a match she will be hog tied, gagged and
blindfolded right here in the room. She will be enclosed in a special case and
the winning male may take her wherever he wishes. She will be his very own
personal property.”
“Of course all matches are no holds barred matches. Both participants will be
naked. Essentially each combatant may do whatever he or she thinks is
necessary to win the match.”
“Without further ado we will get on with the matches.”
“This first match will pit Jeff from the USA who is six feet one inch tall and
weighs in at 170 pounds. Jeff’s specialty is boxing.”
“In the other corner, facing Jeff, will be the beautiful Athena from Greece.
She is an even six feet tall and weighs in at one hundred eighty pounds of
solid muscle.”
“In all cases the male challengers will be introduced first, followed by the
introduction of the Amazon champions.”
“Jeff come on out here an pose for the patrons.”
There was a stir in the audience as a sandy haired male appeared from one of
the entry ramps. To loud cacophony boos and hisses from the majority female
audience Jeff entered the ring between the ropes. He looked to be fairly
ripped but not overly strong. He posed for the audience producing more cat
calls from mostly the women present.
“Now ladies and gentlemen it is my pleasure to introduce our first Amazon
champion, Athena. Her specialty is wrestling. In particular she loves to apply
a had scissors that crushes her opponent into unconsciousness. We have
observed her in training here at the resort. Once Athena applies her deadly
head scissors lock, no one has escaped until they have been rendered
unconscious.”
“Athena, come on out here and pose for the audience,”
The audience stirred a second time. An in creditable looking , beautiful, dark
haired woman emerged from one of the entrance ramps. As Athena entered there
was a loud roar of approval from the audience. Athena entered the ring.
She stood and posed for the audience. She had large looking biceps that were
well ripped and would be the envy of many men. But it was her legs that drew
my attention. She had those long hard calf muscles that really turn men on.
Just looking at her legs caused my penis to become rock hard. I am a leg man.
There was no one ounce of fat on her thighs. Athena’s thighs looked to be
extremely strong and made of steel. For that matter Athena’s body looked to be
solid metal. Her breasts did not even jiggle as she walked about, proudly
showing off her delicious looking body.
Esmeralda gave one more explanation. “Ladies and gentlemen, once the bell is
rung to begin the match, the matches will continue without interruption until
there is a winner. Just a reminder this is a no rules match. Constantans take
your corners.”
As soon as Esmeralda left the ring, the contestants were in their corners and
the bell rang to begin the match.
Both fighters hesitantly circled each other sizing up the opponent. Suddenly
Jeff launched a wide sweeping punch to Athena’s midriff. The blow partially
landed but Athena showed no apparent reaction to the blow. The strength of the
punch caused Jeff to be off balance. Athena, immediately took advantage of the
situation. She grabbed the arm that had launched the punch, twisted up behind
Jeff’s back in a cruel, painful hammer lock. Athena locked her other arm
around Jeff’s neck under his chin. It was then easy for Athena to twist Jeff
down to the mat. She scrabbled around Jeff until she got her powerful legs
around Jeff’s waist and began to squeeze. It was immediately apparent that
Jeff was in dire circumstances. He was in great pain from the cruel
excruciating hammer lock. It seemed impossible for Jeff to do dislodge Athena
and escape from his predicament. It looked as if this match was over in the
first few minutes. Jeff was quickly losing strength. The crowd was in a frenzy
urging Athena to quickly finish Jeff so they could see him tortured and
nullified. Some how with strength born out of desperation Jeff was able to
muster a strong bending of his body and escape from Athena’s clutches. However
Jeff was not out of the woods. He could barely move his right arm as it was
still mostly paralyzed from the painful hammer lock. Jeff was partially bent
over trying to regain some breath for strength. Athena immediately took
advantage of Jeff’s weakened position. Athena launched a powerful right hook
to Jeff’s abs. Jeff was not in the same condition as Athena. Having the air
driven from his lungs by the powerful punch caused Jeff to bend over even
more. As his head was coming down Athena slammed her knee hard into Jeff’s
jaw. Jeff fell to the mat virtually unconscious. I and the audience though
Athena would end the match right then and there.
Athena must have had at least some sadistic tendencies. Instead of finishing
off Jeff, she grabbed his legs into a Boston Crab position. Athena rolled Jeff
over on his stomach, grabbed both of his ankles raised them in the air and sat
in the small of Jeff’s ankles. Athena must have stopped at just the point
before Jeff’s backbone would snap. Jeff could not move much less escape from
the punishing Boston Crab position. As Jeff regained his senses, he began to
scream and beg for mercy. His pleas fell on deaf ears. If anything Athena
increased the pressure even more on Jeff’s back. Jeff began to scream that he
would give up or do anything to get out of Athena’s punishing hold. At this
time, Esmeralda announced to the audience.
“Jeff you know this is a no rules match. Unless you can escape, Athena is free
to apply hold for as long as she wishes and make it as painful as she wishes.
Now ether escape or suffer the consequences.”
This produced much clapping and a loud roar of approval from the audience,
Athena continued to apply the hold for an additional fifteen minutes or a
little more,
After she figured Jeff would be completely helpless she released her hold.
Athena yelled out to the audience.
“Jeff you have ten seconds. If you can do it you get one free shot at me.”
Jeff struggled to rise to his feet or struggle to get to Athena. The Boston
Crab had taken its toll on Jeff. He was completely paralyzed and could not
move. After a brief wait Athena rolled Jeff over on his side, laid down on the
mat and place Jeff’s head between her legs. She immediately applied as much
pressure as possible. You could see Jeff’s head turn read and then begin to
take on a purplish hue At this point Esmeralda entered the ring. Periodically
she would left one of Jeff’s arms in the air and let it drop on the mat. The
first three or four times, Jeff tried to move his arm to dislodge Athena’s
head scissors. Esmeralda lifted Jeff’s arm one more time. Jeff’s arm flopped
to the mat and remained motionless. Esmeralda waited a few more minutes then
tapped Athena on her shoulder.
Shortly after Athena applied her leg scissors to Jeff’s head, I shot my load
into my pants. I was so turned on by seeing Athena’s powerful, beautifully
muscular legs locked around Jeff’s head. I had fantasized thousands of times
about being in the exact position in which Jeff found himself. I hoped Diana
didn’t notice what had happened. If she had I knew I would be severely
punished.
Esmeralda took her microphone and explained to the audience; “Jeff is now
unconscious and Athena is the victor. Will the attendants please prepare the
ring for he nullification of Jeff.”
Athena continued to apply her head scissors all be it with what looked like a
lot less force. A strange looking table was wheeled into the ring. Athena
released her hold and two immensely strong women hefted Jeff onto the table.
The ingenuity of the table quickly became apparent. Jeff’s upper body was
bound tightly to the table with straps around his head, neck, across his chest
just above the nipples and round his waist. Jeff’s arms were strapped to a
third pair of legs on the table. His arms were fastened to the table just
below his shoulders, above and below his elbows and at his wrists.
There were extensions at the foot of the table. Each of Jeff’s thighs were
strapped tightly to the extension in two places. The extensions were then
widened spreading Jeff’s legs as far apart as possible. At the end of the
extension there were additional legs. Jeff’s legs were strapped to these added
legs just below the knee and at the ankle.
Jeff’s cock and balls were hanging in air in a way the could be worked on in
whatever way was wished.
Esmeralda again spoke into the microphone.
“If she wishes the victorious Amazon can determine how the males cock and
balls will be tortured and even do it herself if she wishes. Athena has
decided that Jeff will have glass tube inserted into the full length of his
penis. Then Jeff’s balls will be nailed to a board. A third nail will be
driven into the head of his penis into a board. Athena will then attach the
appropriate wires to each nail. Athena then will take a wooden mallet and
hammer Jeff’s penis with it. This will crush the glass tube in side of Jeff’s
penis causing great pain. After all of the glass rod has been crushed inside
Jeff’s penis, current will be applied to the nails. The nails will heat up and
cook Jeff’s cock and balls while they are still attached to his body.”
“We can now gag Jeff or let his screams be herd by the patrons, If you want
him gagged yell now.”
There were a few scattered yells.
Esmeralda continued.“If you want to hear Jeff’s screams yell now.”
There was a very loud roar of approval.
Athena took the wooden mallet and approached Jeff’s cock and balls. Since I
had a perfect view of Athena’s legs I was virtually drooling at their beauty.
Athena raised the mallet and gave Jeff’s cock a sharp blow with it. This cause
Jeff to emit a loud wail slowly tailing off. Athena pleased, with the result
pounded the entire length of Jeff’s cock. With each blow the decibel level of
Jeff’s screams increased. After she was satisfied Athena took a black box in
hand and turned the dials. Two red lights immediately glowed on the face of
the box. It did not seem possible but Jeff’s yells and screams became even
louder. After a few minutes I sensed a small odor of burning flesh, Sure
enough parts of Jeff’s penis and balls were turning red. After quite a while
Jeff’s cock and balls looked to be thoroughly cooked. Athena turned off the
power.
A man I white stepped into the ring. He produced a tray in which there were a
few implements. He took a scalpel and slowly removed Jeff’s testicles and
dropped them in the pan. There was very little blood. Cooking Jeff’s cock and
balls must have closed of the blood vessels. Next he slowly sliced off Jeff’s
penis with the same result. Jeff was given an injection which immediately
quieted him and he was removed from the ring.
I will not bore the reader with the rest of the matches. All matches had the
same result. The Amazon champion was the winner. All of the males had their
cocks and balls severely tortured. Then they were removed.
After the final match Esmeralda came into the ring and took up the microphone.
“If there is any male in the audience that will like to battle one of our
Amazon champions, come down to the ring. You may have your choice to fight an
Amazon you have seen in combat or let us choose one for you. Of course the
rules remain the same.
Four men stepped forward and the matches continued. All be it they did not
last long. In fact each match lasted little more than three minutes. Each of
the four males were given a torture, nullified and removed.
When the first extra match began, Dian surprised me.
“Tom wouldn’t you like to feel Athena’s legs crushing you into a deep dark
oblivion. You know you would love that. Why don’t you volunteer to fight
Athena.”
I immediately got a rock hard cock. Just the idea of having Athena’s beautiful
long muscular legs around my head caused my cock to almost erupt for a third
time.
I replied, “Diana I don’t want to be nullified and I do not think I could
stand the torture.”
“Tom I know that seeing Athena squeeze her victim into unconsciousness really
turned you on. Come on go for it. You might get lucky and win, You really a
bad wrestler.”
Diana, before I could stop her reached down and felt the crotch area of my
pants.
“Tom It is just as I suspected. You are rock hard from just my talking you
having Athena’s legs around your head has gotten your cock as hard as Iron.
From the fell of things you shot your wad more than once, while watching
Athena in the ring.”
“Come on Tom you know you want it. Get in that ring and submit to Athena. This
is your chance of a life time to get that which you have fantasized about. You
may never again get the chance.”
I replied, “There is no way I am going to get into the ring with that man
eater. She virtually destroyed Jeff. I am sure I would not last as long and
suffer even more.”
At the same time I was thinking, God how I would like to get into that ring
and feel Athena crush me into blackness. Oh god that would feel so good.
By this time the last of the new victims had been dispatched into nullified
slavery.
Esmeralda asked the audience if there were any other men interested in
competing to see if they could take home an Amazon slave. Two more men stepped
forward.
All during the two matches and the torture, nullification of two more victims
Diana kept teasing me and telling me how good it would be if I would fight
Athena. By the end of the second match I was thinking so much with my cock
that I would agree to anything Diana asked of me.
One last time Diana said, “Are you sure you don’t want to feel Athena’s legs
locked around you?”
It was as if I were in a deep dream. I didn’t believe it but I heard myself
saying, “God I would like nothing more than to have a match with Athena.”
After that there was no turning back, Diana made sure of that. As soon as
Esmeralda entered the ring with her microphone, Diana yelled out, “We have one
more victim that would like to have a match with Athena.”
Esmeralda replied, “Send him on down. Athena would love to have another set of
cock and balls in her trophy case.”
Remaining in the dream, I saw my self get up and walk down to where Esmeralda
was outside the ring. I was ordered to strip which I did by rote.
Esmeralda entered the ring and announced, “We have one more victim, ah
contestant that would like to fight Athena. Tom weighs in at 160 pounds, is
five feet eight and has no special fighting skill. Tom come on up in the ring
and show off your body to the audience. To a loud outbreak of hisses and boos
I entered the ring.
Athena entered the ring to a loud and long cheer.
I heard the bell ring, Before I could take a step, I was thrown on the mat and
my legs were twisted into some kind of leg lock that hurt like hell. I reached
back to try to relieve the pressure. Athena grabbed my arm and twisted it into
a painful hammer lock. I foolishly reached back with the other arm. It also
was grabbed and forced into hammer lock. Then Athena leaned forward with all
her weight. I thought my legs were going to break and my arms be twisted out
of my sockets. I heard some screaming, yelling and begging for mercy. Then I
realized it was me. I continued to beg for mercy.
I realized the fog of the pain that Esmeralda was saying, “If you want your
pain to end you must escape from Athena’s grasp. She is welcome to keep you
there as long as she wishes.”
With that Athena increased the pressure on all four of my limbs. All I could
do was keep emitting one long wail.
Athena yelled to the audience, “Do you want me to release him and put him out
with my head scissors?”
The audience responded with a loud chorus of, “No make the foolish wimp
suffer.”
Athena kept me in pain for what seemed like forever. Then all at once there
was less pain, I heard Athena saying, “You foolish little man. I will stand
here and do nothing for the next minute. In that time you may hit me as many
times as you can manage.”
I could not even remove my arms or legs from where they had be held in the
painful wrestling holds. I hard Athena saying, “Time to go night, night little
boy. She rolled me on my side and I felt her legs close around my head. I
thought it impossible but just before there was blackness, I shot my third
load of the night right there in the ring.
I came to wondering why I couldn’t move. Then I realized I was bound to the
nullification table.
Esmeralda again announced “Athena would like to do the honors. She is going to
use her mallet to smash Tom’s balls to pulp. The she has a set of steel plates
she is going to clamp on Tom’s penis and rip it to shreds.”
Athena placed a steel table and tape my penis to my stomach, She made sure my
balls were fully exposed on the iron table, She took her wooden mallet and
slammed it into my left ball as hard as she could. The pain was so bad it took
my breath away. In addition my throat was so sore from yelling in the ring
that I could do little more than utter a croak. My right ball was given the
same treatment. Then Athena pounded on my balls until thee was nothing left
but pulp.
Next Athena took two plates that had long pointed spikes close together. Thee
were bolts through the plates. Athena placed one plate on top of my cock and
the other one on the bottom of it. Then she began to clamp the plates
together. She tightened the bolts until the spikes of one plate met the other
plate. Then Athena ran a long bar through raised holes on the top plate. She
use the bar as leverage to twist the plates around my cock first one way and
then the other. My cock was now almost shredded. Athena finished the job by
fastening a leash to the plates and pulling them off of my cock. Then all went
dark. I awakened in a cell of the dungeon under the bull ring.
It was not long until Diana came to visit. She told me she had purchased me
and I was now her slave. When we returned to Diana’s lavish estate. In the
basement she secured me in a cell which I had never seen. She closed the door
and informed that the rest of the room would be turned into a dungeon. I would
be severely tortured and left there for the remainder of my life. Diana said
that since the tortures would b intense I would not last too long. I was also
told that as I now had no cock she had chosen a new secretary named Paul.
Diana told me Paul would be her escort to the next event at Rodeo Ranch
Resort.
Feedback please.
[email protected]
RODEO RANCH RESORT
BY
SUBGAMBLE
To the reader this story contains explicit sex, bondage and torture it should
not be read by minors or posted where minors can read it. I these topics
offend you. Do not read this. Go elsewhere
In the back country of Mexico, there once was a thriving Mexican town about
150 miles from the United States border. Up until about 50 years ago it had
been a thriving Mexican city of around 50,000 people. In the center of town
the main attraction had been the bull ring which had seated around 30,000
people. Over the years the fertile farm soil had been over used. The soil was
depleted of all of its minerals and the farming industry died. There was no
money to sustain the merchants that had made the town a thriving metropolitan
area. Virtually over night the town had became a ghost town.
A wealthy group of Mexican woman had passed through the area and noticed the
abandoned bull ring. Now all of these women were extremely wealthy and were
all a little sexually kinky. They immediately saw that the abandoned town and
especially the bull ring would be absolutely perfect way for them to become
even more wealthy. Of course they would have to invest around the equivalent
of a hundred and fifty million dollars or a little more to be able to begin to
recoup their investment. Of course a hundred and fifty million dollars was
only a little more than peanuts to this group of women. Immediately the idea
was hatched. The group of women were able to acquire the entire area that had
comprised the now dead city, including the bull ring for a pittance. The group
of women figured it would take a minimum of two years to turn the ghost town
into a desert resort area that would be needed for what the women had in mind.
Contracts were let and construction on the resort began. After about a year
and half Esmeralda the spokeswoman for the group saw that in about another
year and a half the construction of the envisioned resort would be close to
completion. They began to place discreet ads in certain magazines that
appealed to those all over the world interested in a certain kind of sadistic
and kinky sex. Also the ads all be it toned down appeared in body building
magazines all over the world as well.
The ads invited any women of Amazonian proportions to apply for a job that
could make them fabulously wealthy. The ad was written to appeal to any women
that was near and especially over six feet in height. In addition they should
be muscular or at least be interested in strength training and becoming as
proficient as possible in any of the martial arts in which they had interest.
The ad further explained that any applicant successful or not would be given
an all expense trip to the resort and training facility. They would have a
week at the desert resort and another week at a posh Mexican sea side resort
if they were not selected or did not wish to take the women’s combine up on
their offer. The combine had originally figured that they would select an
original group of 25 Amazonian type women to be trained. They found that so
many applications poured in that they decided to raise the number they would
accept to 50. Esmeralda decided that they would invite the applicants to come
for an interview in groups of five.
Soon the first group of five applicants were selected. They were told a day
and a time to be at LAX. There they would be picked up by private jet and
transported to the resort in the Mexican desert. Of course if they were not
selected or chose not participate , it would be extremely hard, if not
impossible for them to replace their steps to the underground resort.
Upon arrival, after being settled in their quarters, the women were directed
to a large room. In the room there was a statuesque black haired Amazonian
women well over six feet tall seated at the table. She said, “My name is
Esmeralda. Come have a seat. I am pleased to inform you that you have all been
selected to become a member of our staff.
Esmeralda told the applicants to open their folders and read what would be
required. Esmeralda explained she would return in a little while after the
applicants had time to read the information, talk it over and digest it.
A summary of the information contained in the folders is a follows. Each of
the successful applicants would be given strength training that would allow
them to develop their strength to the maximum of their ability. In addition
they would be trained in any of the marital arts they wished by first class
instructors from all over the world. They would have full run of the resort
and everything needed would be provided for successful applicants as long as
they were in training.
The second part was this. After each applicant had been trained to her maximum
strength and ability. She would be required to participate in a no rules match
with a male in the bull ring. For each match she won, she would be given
$100,000 deposited in any account anywhere in the world she wished. Each
applicant would required to participate in five matches. After that they would
be free to remain and continue to participate in matches as long as they wish
under the same conditions. Any applicant who one her five matches would be
able to depart with a cool half million dollars. All expenses at the resort
would be taken care of by the combine.
It was further explained that any losing male would be immediately nullified
right there in the ring as soon as possible after the match ended. His cock
and balls would be removed without anesthetic. As soon as his cock and balls
were removed the hapless male would be given a shot to put him out and taken
to the infirmary. Once in the infirmary his wounds would be repaired. As the
best possible medical service would be available the hapless male would be
completely normal after about two days. He would then be taken to the dungeon
that had been constructed under the bull ring and confined in a cell. He would
remain there to be severely tortured. Any of the paying patrons viewing the
matches would be able to watch the torture sessions. If they wished they could
suggest ways the male victim would be tortured. If possible the suggestions
received would be carried out by the torturers. The patrons, if they wished,
could participate in the torture. The ten losing males would remain imprisoned
under the bull ring until the next match. Any female on the staff at the
resort could torture an inmate whenever they wished. Right before the next set
of matches the hapless males would either be sold to some potentate in a
country who would use him as he wished, in some rare cases be released without
knowing where he had been or snuffed and buried in the desert.
The folder went on to explain that there was one major draw back. If a women
lost her match, she would immediately become the property of the male that
defeated her. The winning male could transport the loser anywhere in he wished
and do whatever he wished to her. It went on to explain that everything
possible would be done to insure that the women were victorious. However there
was the possibility that one could lose. If there happened to be an
exceptionally large or muscular male, he would have to fight two or even three
women in the ring. This would keep the odds pretty much equal in favor of the
Amazon performers.
Esmeralda returned, sat down and answered the dozens of questions the
applicants had. She then told them to take two more days to think it over and
enjoy what the resort had to offer. When they returned, they could sign and
ironclad contract that would see that they participated in the five required
matches. If they chose not to remain they could enjoy the resort for the
remainder of the week and then be treated to another week’s vacation at a posh
Mexican seaside resort.
After two days when the women returned, four of them accepted the offer and
signed their contracts. One did not wish to take part in the Amazonian
activities offered by the resort. All of the women were permitted to enjoy the
resort for the remainder of the week. The one that did not accept was paid all
expenses and taken to a posh Mexican resort for another week of vacation. The
four that were accepted were returned to LAX and given two weeks to settle
their affairs. Then they would return to LAX and be again flown to the resort
by private jet.
As the interviews continued, Esmeralda found that approximately three and a
half women, on the averaged out of every five applicants accepted the offered
contracts. It was not long until all of the slots were filled. Once in
residence the successful applicants began their long rigorous training
program.
From consultations with the instructors Esmeralda determined that it would
take approximately two years to have all of the 50 selected women in top form.
By then all of the construction of the resort would be finished. A year after
all of the Amazonian were in residence discreet ads began to appear in
magazines all over the word appealing to those interested in sadomasochistic
sex about a special type of fighting match. Also ads appeared for male
fighters willing to take on an Amazonian women.
Inquiries began to pour in. Esmeralda decided that for the first group of ten
matches they would invite 5000 patrons to attend. The cost for each patron to
view the matches and have a two week vacation at the resort would be $50,000.
In addition each patron would have to wager $5000 or more dollars on the time
it would take the victor to win each match, man or women. If a patron in a
seat did not wager $5000 for each match he or she would be escorted out the
bull ring.
Finally all was ready for the first round of matches. Invitations were sent
out to six thousand potential patrons. In no time full payment was received
for the full five thousand. In fact over 500 payments had to be refunded.
Unless something unforeseen happened, the first event would be a huge success.
The combine would take in one hundred and fifty million from ticket sales. The
betting would total fifty million. Of that the combine figured they would win
at least 50% of the bets. One hundred and eighty million dollars would or more
would be taken in from the first event. The combine figured that if they could
hold four events a year the combine would be paid for and virtually three
fourths of each years income would be pure profit. In addition the resort
would advertise for desert vacations for each two month period between the
moths when matches were held. All in all if things continued in the same
pattern they would greatly add to their already inconsiderable wealth.
Finally the instructors reported that the Amazonian recruits were all in
perfect condition. They were all trained to the point that it would take a
martial arts champion or a cruel twist of fate for any than a true champion to
defeat one of the women.
The combine had no trouble finding all the male participants they needed. The
fantasy of having a beautiful looking Amazon as their slave caused men to
think more with their dicks than with their brains. The first group of male
applicants consisted of more than 5000 applications and more applications were
being received. The combine wanted their male combatants to be in the range of
from 160 to 180 pounds or a little more . They wanted men that looked ripped
and solid but were not too muscular. This would give most of the women a
slight, if not immense advantage depending upon the fighting skills of the
selected men.
All of the applicants were of a mindset that there would be no way that they
could be defeated in a no holds barred match with a mere woman. The skimmed
over the paragraphs that explained that the losing male would be nullified,
enslaved and tortured. They totally ignored the idea that they would be
enslaved and tortured for the rest of their lives, All they could think of was
having a world class beauty of a women to be their slave and do with as they
wished,
Now that I have explained the background, the real story can begin. My name is
Tom. I am the employed or enslaved as the case may be by my mistress, Diana,
She is head of her own corporation that markets high end clothing to wealthy
people. She is also a member of the combine that designed the resort in the
Mexican desert. Diana is fabulously wealthy. Diana paid my way into the event
and gave me funds with which to bet. I found out about the above information
through correspondence that Diana had with Esmeralda the head of the combine.
I serve mostly as her personal secretary in addition to being her bondage toy
and whipping boy.
We arrived at the resort the Sunday before the matches were to be held on the
upcoming Saturday. Diana had a chance to rest and relax from her high pressure
business situation. Since the dungeon was open for use by any of the patrons,
Diana immediately dragged me to the dungeon tightly hog tied me and locked my
neck to ring on the wall of the cell. Diana kept tied and bound in the cell
the entire week until the night before the matches. She tortured me and
whipped me daily for relaxation. Then she was off to enjoy the resort for the
rest of the day. On the Friday night before the matches were to be held, I was
locked in chains and taken to Diana’s room. I was tightly bound and had to
serve every orifice of her body the entire night. Finally Saturday morning
arrived. I was allowed to shower, and shave. I enjoyed a gourmet lunch and
dinner with Diana. At eight o’clock in the evening we seated in the bull ring
with an excellent second row seat next to the fighting ring.
Every patron had to post his betting slip in a slot on the chair in front of
him or her. Ushers checked to make sure every one had a betting slip. As one
had to predict the duration of the match with in fifteen seconds it was
doubtful that I would win anything. This would be true of most of the patrons
present. Of course some lucky few, as always, would guess correctly,
When all was checked and ready, Esmeralda enter the ring with a microphone.
Her melodious voice boomed out over the loud speaker system.
“Ladies and gentlemen welcome to the Rodeo Ranch Resort. We will present for
your enjoyment this evening 10 matches of hapless males pitted against our
beautiful strong Amazonian women. As is outlined in your program, the losing
male will immediately have is cock and balls severely tortured and removed
from his body right here in the ring with no anesthetic. Of course after the
deed is done, the losing male will be rendered unconscious. Then he will be
taken to our state of the art infirmary and be tended to. We have some of the
best doctors in the world on staff here during the matches. We also have a
first class alternative medication program that will have the nullified male
almost back to normal in two days. At that time he will be incarcerated in one
of our dungeon cells. He will be available on a first come first serve basis
for any patron to bind, use or torture as they see fit. If you live in certain
areas of the world, a losing male may be available for purchase as your
private slave. You must have a way to transport him out of the country in a
case under diplomatic seal. If more than one patron is interested in
purchasing the same slave there will be an auction held. The highest bidder
will receive the male as their personal property.”
“Secondly if an Amazon loses a match she will be hog tied, gagged and
blindfolded right here in the room. She will be enclosed in a special case and
the winning male may take her wherever he wishes. She will be his very own
personal property.”
“Of course all matches are no holds barred matches. Both participants will be
naked. Essentially each combatant may do whatever he or she thinks is
necessary to win the match.”
“Without further ado we will get on with the matches.”
“This first match will pit Jeff from the USA who is six feet one inch tall and
weighs in at 170 pounds. Jeff’s specialty is boxing.”
“In the other corner, facing Jeff, will be the beautiful Athena from Greece.
She is an even six feet tall and weighs in at one hundred eighty pounds of
solid muscle.”
“In all cases the male challengers will be introduced first, followed by the
introduction of the Amazon champions.”
“Jeff come on out here an pose for the patrons.”
There was a stir in the audience as a sandy haired male appeared from one of
the entry ramps. To loud cacophony boos and hisses from the majority female
audience Jeff entered the ring between the ropes. He looked to be fairly
ripped but not overly strong. He posed for the audience producing more cat
calls from mostly the women present.
“Now ladies and gentlemen it is my pleasure to introduce our first Amazon
champion, Athena. Her specialty is wrestling. In particular she loves to apply
a had scissors that crushes her opponent into unconsciousness. We have
observed her in training here at the resort. Once Athena applies her deadly
head scissors lock, no one has escaped until they have been rendered
unconscious.”
“Athena, come on out here and pose for the audience,”
The audience stirred a second time. An in creditable looking , beautiful, dark
haired woman emerged from one of the entrance ramps. As Athena entered there
was a loud roar of approval from the audience. Athena entered the ring.
She stood and posed for the audience. She had large looking biceps that were
well ripped and would be the envy of many men. But it was her legs that drew
my attention. She had those long hard calf muscles that really turn men on.
Just looking at her legs caused my penis to become rock hard. I am a leg man.
There was no one ounce of fat on her thighs. Athena’s thighs looked to be
extremely strong and made of steel. For that matter Athena’s body looked to be
solid metal. Her breasts did not even jiggle as she walked about, proudly
showing off her delicious looking body.
Esmeralda gave one more explanation. “Ladies and gentlemen, once the bell is
rung to begin the match, the matches will continue without interruption until
there is a winner. Just a reminder this is a no rules match. Constantans take
your corners.”
As soon as Esmeralda left the ring, the contestants were in their corners and
the bell rang to begin the match.
Both fighters hesitantly circled each other sizing up the opponent. Suddenly
Jeff launched a wide sweeping punch to Athena’s midriff. The blow partially
landed but Athena showed no apparent reaction to the blow. The strength of the
punch caused Jeff to be off balance. Athena, immediately took advantage of the
situation. She grabbed the arm that had launched the punch, twisted up behind
Jeff’s back in a cruel, painful hammer lock. Athena locked her other arm
around Jeff’s neck under his chin. It was then easy for Athena to twist Jeff
down to the mat. She scrabbled around Jeff until she got her powerful legs
around Jeff’s waist and began to squeeze. It was immediately apparent that
Jeff was in dire circumstances. He was in great pain from the cruel
excruciating hammer lock. It seemed impossible for Jeff to do dislodge Athena
and escape from his predicament. It looked as if this match was over in the
first few minutes. Jeff was quickly losing strength. The crowd was in a frenzy
urging Athena to quickly finish Jeff so they could see him tortured and
nullified. Some how with strength born out of desperation Jeff was able to
muster a strong bending of his body and escape from Athena’s clutches. However
Jeff was not out of the woods. He could barely move his right arm as it was
still mostly paralyzed from the painful hammer lock. Jeff was partially bent
over trying to regain some breath for strength. Athena immediately took
advantage of Jeff’s weakened position. Athena launched a powerful right hook
to Jeff’s abs. Jeff was not in the same condition as Athena. Having the air
driven from his lungs by the powerful punch caused Jeff to bend over even
more. As his head was coming down Athena slammed her knee hard into Jeff’s
jaw. Jeff fell to the mat virtually unconscious. I and the audience though
Athena would end the match right then and there.
Athena must have had at least some sadistic tendencies. Instead of finishing
off Jeff, she grabbed his legs into a Boston Crab position. Athena rolled Jeff
over on his stomach, grabbed both of his ankles raised them in the air and sat
in the small of Jeff’s ankles. Athena must have stopped at just the point
before Jeff’s backbone would snap. Jeff could not move much less escape from
the punishing Boston Crab position. As Jeff regained his senses, he began to
scream and beg for mercy. His pleas fell on deaf ears. If anything Athena
increased the pressure even more on Jeff’s back. Jeff began to scream that he
would give up or do anything to get out of Athena’s punishing hold. At this
time, Esmeralda announced to the audience.
“Jeff you know this is a no rules match. Unless you can escape, Athena is free
to apply hold for as long as she wishes and make it as painful as she wishes.
Now ether escape or suffer the consequences.”
This produced much clapping and a loud roar of approval from the audience,
Athena continued to apply the hold for an additional fifteen minutes or a
little more,
After she figured Jeff would be completely helpless she released her hold.
Athena yelled out to the audience.
“Jeff you have ten seconds. If you can do it you get one free shot at me.”
Jeff struggled to rise to his feet or struggle to get to Athena. The Boston
Crab had taken its toll on Jeff. He was completely paralyzed and could not
move. After a brief wait Athena rolled Jeff over on his side, laid down on the
mat and place Jeff’s head between her legs. She immediately applied as much
pressure as possible. You could see Jeff’s head turn read and then begin to
take on a purplish hue At this point Esmeralda entered the ring. Periodically
she would left one of Jeff’s arms in the air and let it drop on the mat. The
first three or four times, Jeff tried to move his arm to dislodge Athena’s
head scissors. Esmeralda lifted Jeff’s arm one more time. Jeff’s arm flopped
to the mat and remained motionless. Esmeralda waited a few more minutes then
tapped Athena on her shoulder.
Shortly after Athena applied her leg scissors to Jeff’s head, I shot my load
into my pants. I was so turned on by seeing Athena’s powerful, beautifully
muscular legs locked around Jeff’s head. I had fantasized thousands of times
about being in the exact position in which Jeff found himself. I hoped Diana
didn’t notice what had happened. If she had I knew I would be severely
punished.
Esmeralda took her microphone and explained to the audience; “Jeff is now
unconscious and Athena is the victor. Will the attendants please prepare the
ring for he nullification of Jeff.”
Athena continued to apply her head scissors all be it with what looked like a
lot less force. A strange looking table was wheeled into the ring. Athena
released her hold and two immensely strong women hefted Jeff onto the table.
The ingenuity of the table quickly became apparent. Jeff’s upper body was
bound tightly to the table with straps around his head, neck, across his chest
just above the nipples and round his waist. Jeff’s arms were strapped to a
third pair of legs on the table. His arms were fastened to the table just
below his shoulders, above and below his elbows and at his wrists.
There were extensions at the foot of the table. Each of Jeff’s thighs were
strapped tightly to the extension in two places. The extensions were then
widened spreading Jeff’s legs as far apart as possible. At the end of the
extension there were additional legs. Jeff’s legs were strapped to these added
legs just below the knee and at the ankle.
Jeff’s cock and balls were hanging in air in a way the could be worked on in
whatever way was wished.
Esmeralda again spoke into the microphone.
“If she wishes the victorious Amazon can determine how the males cock and
balls will be tortured and even do it herself if she wishes. Athena has
decided that Jeff will have glass tube inserted into the full length of his
penis. Then Jeff’s balls will be nailed to a board. A third nail will be
driven into the head of his penis into a board. Athena will then attach the
appropriate wires to each nail. Athena then will take a wooden mallet and
hammer Jeff’s penis with it. This will crush the glass tube in side of Jeff’s
penis causing great pain. After all of the glass rod has been crushed inside
Jeff’s penis, current will be applied to the nails. The nails will heat up and
cook Jeff’s cock and balls while they are still attached to his body.”
“We can now gag Jeff or let his screams be herd by the patrons, If you want
him gagged yell now.”
There were a few scattered yells.
Esmeralda continued.“If you want to hear Jeff’s screams yell now.”
There was a very loud roar of approval.
Athena took the wooden mallet and approached Jeff’s cock and balls. Since I
had a perfect view of Athena’s legs I was virtually drooling at their beauty.
Athena raised the mallet and gave Jeff’s cock a sharp blow with it. This cause
Jeff to emit a loud wail slowly tailing off. Athena pleased, with the result
pounded the entire length of Jeff’s cock. With each blow the decibel level of
Jeff’s screams increased. After she was satisfied Athena took a black box in
hand and turned the dials. Two red lights immediately glowed on the face of
the box. It did not seem possible but Jeff’s yells and screams became even
louder. After a few minutes I sensed a small odor of burning flesh, Sure
enough parts of Jeff’s penis and balls were turning red. After quite a while
Jeff’s cock and balls looked to be thoroughly cooked. Athena turned off the
power.
A man I white stepped into the ring. He produced a tray in which there were a
few implements. He took a scalpel and slowly removed Jeff’s testicles and
dropped them in the pan. There was very little blood. Cooking Jeff’s cock and
balls must have closed of the blood vessels. Next he slowly sliced off Jeff’s
penis with the same result. Jeff was given an injection which immediately
quieted him and he was removed from the ring.
I will not bore the reader with the rest of the matches. All matches had the
same result. The Amazon champion was the winner. All of the males had their
cocks and balls severely tortured. Then they were removed.
After the final match Esmeralda came into the ring and took up the microphone.
“If there is any male in the audience that will like to battle one of our
Amazon champions, come down to the ring. You may have your choice to fight an
Amazon you have seen in combat or let us choose one for you. Of course the
rules remain the same.
Four men stepped forward and the matches continued. All be it they did not
last long. In fact each match lasted little more than three minutes. Each of
the four males were given a torture, nullified and removed.
When the first extra match began, Dian surprised me.
“Tom wouldn’t you like to feel Athena’s legs crushing you into a deep dark
oblivion. You know you would love that. Why don’t you volunteer to fight
Athena.”
I immediately got a rock hard cock. Just the idea of having Athena’s beautiful
long muscular legs around my head caused my cock to almost erupt for a third
time.
I replied, “Diana I don’t want to be nullified and I do not think I could
stand the torture.”
“Tom I know that seeing Athena squeeze her victim into unconsciousness really
turned you on. Come on go for it. You might get lucky and win, You really a
bad wrestler.”
Diana, before I could stop her reached down and felt the crotch area of my
pants.
“Tom It is just as I suspected. You are rock hard from just my talking you
having Athena’s legs around your head has gotten your cock as hard as Iron.
From the fell of things you shot your wad more than once, while watching
Athena in the ring.”
“Come on Tom you know you want it. Get in that ring and submit to Athena. This
is your chance of a life time to get that which you have fantasized about. You
may never again get the chance.”
I replied, “There is no way I am going to get into the ring with that man
eater. She virtually destroyed Jeff. I am sure I would not last as long and
suffer even more.”
At the same time I was thinking, God how I would like to get into that ring
and feel Athena crush me into blackness. Oh god that would feel so good.
By this time the last of the new victims had been dispatched into nullified
slavery.
Esmeralda asked the audience if there were any other men interested in
competing to see if they could take home an Amazon slave. Two more men stepped
forward.
All during the two matches and the torture, nullification of two more victims
Diana kept teasing me and telling me how good it would be if I would fight
Athena. By the end of the second match I was thinking so much with my cock
that I would agree to anything Diana asked of me.
One last time Diana said, “Are you sure you don’t want to feel Athena’s legs
locked around you?”
It was as if I were in a deep dream. I didn’t believe it but I heard myself
saying, “God I would like nothing more than to have a match with Athena.”
After that there was no turning back, Diana made sure of that. As soon as
Esmeralda entered the ring with her microphone, Diana yelled out, “We have one
more victim that would like to have a match with Athena.”
Esmeralda replied, “Send him on down. Athena would love to have another set of
cock and balls in her trophy case.”
Remaining in the dream, I saw my self get up and walk down to where Esmeralda
was outside the ring. I was ordered to strip which I did by rote.
Esmeralda entered the ring and announced, “We have one more victim, ah
contestant that would like to fight Athena. Tom weighs in at 160 pounds, is
five feet eight and has no special fighting skill. Tom come on up in the ring
and show off your body to the audience. To a loud outbreak of hisses and boos
I entered the ring.
Athena entered the ring to a loud and long cheer.
I heard the bell ring, Before I could take a step, I was thrown on the mat and
my legs were twisted into some kind of leg lock that hurt like hell. I reached
back to try to relieve the pressure. Athena grabbed my arm and twisted it into
a painful hammer lock. I foolishly reached back with the other arm. It also
was grabbed and forced into hammer lock. Then Athena leaned forward with all
her weight. I thought my legs were going to break and my arms be twisted out
of my sockets. I heard some screaming, yelling and begging for mercy. Then I
realized it was me. I continued to beg for mercy.
I realized the fog of the pain that Esmeralda was saying, “If you want your
pain to end you must escape from Athena’s grasp. She is welcome to keep you
there as long as she wishes.”
With that Athena increased the pressure on all four of my limbs. All I could
do was keep emitting one long wail.
Athena yelled to the audience, “Do you want me to release him and put him out
with my head scissors?”
The audience responded with a loud chorus of, “No make the foolish wimp
suffer.”
Athena kept me in pain for what seemed like forever. Then all at once there
was less pain, I heard Athena saying, “You foolish little man. I will stand
here and do nothing for the next minute. In that time you may hit me as many
times as you can manage.”
I could not even remove my arms or legs from where they had be held in the
painful wrestling holds. I hard Athena saying, “Time to go night, night little
boy. She rolled me on my side and I felt her legs close around my head. I
thought it impossible but just before there was blackness, I shot my third
load of the night right there in the ring.
I came to wondering why I couldn’t move. Then I realized I was bound to the
nullification table.
Esmeralda again announced “Athena would like to do the honors. She is going to
use her mallet to smash Tom’s balls to pulp. The she has a set of steel plates
she is going to clamp on Tom’s penis and rip it to shreds.”
Athena placed a steel table and tape my penis to my stomach, She made sure my
balls were fully exposed on the iron table, She took her wooden mallet and
slammed it into my left ball as hard as she could. The pain was so bad it took
my breath away. In addition my throat was so sore from yelling in the ring
that I could do little more than utter a croak. My right ball was given the
same treatment. Then Athena pounded on my balls until thee was nothing left
but pulp.
Next Athena took two plates that had long pointed spikes close together. Thee
were bolts through the plates. Athena placed one plate on top of my cock and
the other one on the bottom of it. Then she began to clamp the plates
together. She tightened the bolts until the spikes of one plate met the other
plate. Then Athena ran a long bar through raised holes on the top plate. She
use the bar as leverage to twist the plates around my cock first one way and
then the other. My cock was now almost shredded. Athena finished the job by
fastening a leash to the plates and pulling them off of my cock. Then all went
dark. I awakened in a cell of the dungeon under the bull ring.
It was not long until Diana came to visit. She told me she had purchased me
and I was now her slave. When we returned to Diana’s lavish estate. In the
basement she secured me in a cell which I had never seen. She closed the door
and informed that the rest of the room would be turned into a dungeon. I would
be severely tortured and left there for the remainder of my life. Diana said
that since the tortures would b intense I would not last too long. I was also
told that as I now had no cock she had chosen a new secretary named Paul.
Diana told me Paul would be her escort to the next event at Rodeo Ranch
Resort.
Feedback please.
[email protected]
* * * |
The mystic's down fall | NULLIFICATION, Other: death | Courtly politics and carnel lust's lead to the Cardinal Abbots End | Five young men of wealth and privilege gathered in prince
Yansurov's study. The prince's closest friend's and lovers, each
wanting to take
their vulgar revenge on the Cardinal abbot. All because he had
refused them the
pleasure of his legendary cock. Janus awaited the evening's
debauchery with
great anticipation, wondering if the mystic's organ would really live
up to the
tales. He despised most of the prince's sycophant cohorts for what
they were,
pretty sluts whose greatest desire was to be a real man's fuck toy!
Only Morgan
the young cavalry commander was a real man, he was the only one of
them who
had never begged Janus to fuck him. The only one who had the ball's
to deny
the prince the pleasure's of his body. Yansurov had tried
everything from gifts,
to begging and finally royal commands get into the young cavalrymans
virgin
mouth and ass! But Morgan would only give the prince his big hard
cock, a gift
Yansurov could never bring himself to refuse. He was the only one
of the
prince's friend's Janus had allowed the prince to bring in they're
real plans. And
was here tonight more at Janus's request than Yansurov's. A good
thing he was
to for it had been Morgan, who had snapped the point off the crossbow
bolt, and
drew it out of the minister's shoulder. The prince had returned
earlier with the
drug, and was now mixing it with the wine he would serve the Cardinal
abbot.
Directing the others to conceal themself's in the adjoining bed
chamber, Yansurov
ordered his coachman to show the mystic in as soon as he arrived.
When the
Cardinal abbot entered, he was just as Janus remembered tall and
powerfully
build. With shoulder length crimson hair, and a short neatly
trimmed red beard.
"I am so glad you came, your holiness!" Yansurov exclaimed as he
hurried
across the room to greet the mystic. The genuine relief in his
voice was a nice
touch Janus thought. Although he knew it was relief at having
gotten his drug
mix before the Cardinal had arrived. "I believe you know Janus the
king's
minister of finace." The prince sniveled, leading the cardinal over
to where Janus
was laying on an over stuffed divan. "My yes, the minister and I
have met on a
number of occasion's." The Cardinal answered unwrapping the crude
bandage
on Janus's shoulder. "This appears to be an arrow wound." "Crossbow
actually,
one of the prince's guardsmen was a little to quick on the trigger."
Janus
explained. "I hope the fellow willn't be punished to harshly, these
are uncertain
and dangerous times in which we live." "I'm sure the fellow was just
trying to
keep his lord safe." The Cardinal said as he cleansing the
wound. "Indeed I
believe the prince has arranged a most supple and informative
punishment."
Janus answered. "The prince is very progressive minded." The
Cardinal
muttered as he closed his eye's, in prayer over the wound. An
intense heat seem
to burn in the mystic's hand as he pressed it to the wound. It
seemed to blaze
through Janus's shoulder, spreading through his entire body as a
delicious
warmth. The minister felt as if he had just been dipped into the
well spring of
life. The Cardinal abbot's face was covered with sweat, and he was
breathing
deeply as he removed his hand. "I have done all that I can." He
mumbled
wearily setting down in a near by chair. Janus looked down to find
the wound
was only a tiny black scab, experimentally he flexed his arm.
Smiling when he
felt only the tinniest bit of pain, he was almost good as new.
Looking over he
found that the prince had already handed the Cardinal a glass of
wine. Which
the mystic downed in one drink, holding his glass out to be
refilled. Which
Yansurov did very happily and quite promptly! It didn't take the
big priest long
to empty the bottle, as he nibbled on a bit of spice cake Yansurov
had set out with
the wine. "That was an exssellant vintage." He mumble peering
around blearily.
"Would you like some more?" The prince asked. As the Cardinal
stared at the
empty bottle sadly. "It'ss gone!" He slurred mornfully. "I have
more in my
celler." The prince explained. "No I musst be going." He exclaimed
lurching
unsteadily to his feet. "Perhaps I could get you a bottle to take
with you."
"Would you like that?" The prince asked anxiously trying to stall
for time. "Mush
bee goating." The Cardinal abbot slurred shaking his head. Janus
moved across
the room to block the door, as Morgan and the other's came out of
hiding.
"Mulac." The Cardinal tried pointing a shaking hand at Janus. "I'm
afraid it's far
to late for that Cardinal, besides you wouldn't want to ruin this
wonderful heal
job you've done." Janus laughed punching the big mystic in the face,
the
Cardinal staggered backward and fell nervlessly to the carpeted
floor. He was
still struggling weakly as they picked him up off the floor,
stripping off his robe
an sandal's as they carried him into the bed room. His cock
although still soft
was easily six or seven inches long, and as thick as a donkey's
fucker! The
prince's effeminate companion's began crowded around taking turns
sucking on
the mystic's soft fucker, while another licked and fingered his
asshole. It didn't
take long for the mystic's cock to raise to it's full length. Two
and a half hand's
long, and as thick as a man's wrist! It was an awe inspiring sight,
as it was
attached to a man an not a horse! "No wonder every woman at court
dreams of
accompanying him into the holy of holies for a good fucking." Janus
blurred.
"Not just the women!" The prince breathed, his hand's exploring an
lubricating
the massive fucker. "Lets get this started!" Janus growled moving in
front the ass
licking youth, and guiding his own throbbing prick into the
Cardinal's virgin ass!
He pulled the brown nosing youth to his own buttock's, the
sycophantic little slut
immedantly pressed his face between them! The Cardinal abbot
gasped, a look
of pain and apprehension in his grey eye's. "Relax your going to
enjoy this!"
The prince gloated lowering himself onto the Cardinal abbot's
stallion like fucker!
Janus chuckled at the irony of the prince's statement, very few men
indeed would
enjoy being ravished by seven other men! And he certainly wasn't
going to
enjoy the death they had planned for him! Janus giggled showing the
mystic no
such mercy. Ramming his own sizable cock, ball's deep into the
mystic's virgin
asshole with a single brutal thrust! "Hhhohhoo!" The mystic wail in
protest at
this violent and malicious treatment! This only insighted Janus to
use the
mystic's dangling testicles as a handle, to help him ride the
Cardinal's ass even
harder! The other's watching applauded an cheered him on, each
wishing for
nothing more than to be in the Cardinal' s place at that moment! It
took
Yansurov sometime, and a great deal of grunting an straining. To
get the
Cardinal's enormous cock, ensconced in his own well used
orifice! "Aaahahaa!"
The prince groaned as at last it's enormous head slipped past his
sphincters, and
the full equinish length drove into him! One of the prince's pretty
lovers bent
down to suck his cock, as he slowly rode up an down on the Cardinal
abbot's immense fucker!
Janus watched the prince, and his pantywaist companion's empale
themself's on
the Cardinal abbot's equinish fucker. One or two were even man
e'nuff to take
their pleasure in the big mystic's now thoughly debauched ass. When
the prince
and his effeminate friend's were at last sated, and had went back
into the study
for refreshment. Janus and Morgan took their pleasure, first Janus
had the young
cavalry man twist and squeeze the mystic's testicles. Until the big
red headed
priest weakly agreed to suck they're cock's, aside from blinking it
was all the
control the big man had over his body! Janus straddled the Cardinal
abbot's
head, fucking his weakly suckling lip's like they were that velvety
pleasure
between a woman's leg's! Both men had already cum once, Janus in the
Cardinal abbot's ass, and Morgan in Yansurov's mouth! So both were
able to
enjoy the pleasure of the enslaved abbot's subservient mouth for a
prolonged
period! Janus eased over so he and Morgan could take turns fucking
the big
mystic's obeisant mouth! Both pumped out their lust deep in his
throat, leaving
the debauched priest no choice but to swallow the greasy product of
they're
passion's! Yansurov had returned by this time, and quickly took
their place in
the vitiated holy man's compliant mouth! Watching the prince slowly
with great
relish, and obvious rapture hump the mystic's fawning lip's.
Quickly aroused
Morgan, and he kneeled between the Cardinal's spread leg's lifting up
the big
man's hefty ball sac. Morgan drove his own donkey like fucker into
the abbot's
spasming asshole, it took the cavlaryman four ot five brutal thrusts
to get it all the
way in. And made the sucking mystic grunt and whimper around the
prince's
deep fucking probang. Yansurov pulled his slender cock out of the
mystic's
throat, to cum in the his obsequious mouth. Watching in amusement
as the
degraded priest worked his tongue around, trying desperately to spit
the prince's
greasy white spunk out! Climbing to his feet Yansurov retreated to
his study, for
more rest and refreshments. When the young cavalryman at length
attain his
shuddering orgasm, he reached down and drew a large dagger from his
high
black boot top. Grasping the Cardinal abbot's immense stallion like
fucker, he
pulled it far out away from the mystic's body. And with one quick
slash, cut the
tremendous love muscle off! With a hoarse groan the big man sat
bolt up right,
his hand's rapping around his attack's throat! Morgan slapped the
weakly
grasping hand's away, bludgeoning the Cardinal in the face with his
own
enormous manhood. He then drove the dagger repeatedly into the big
man's
chest, until he stopped struggling. "What are you going to do with
that?" Janus
asked chortling. "I thought I'd have it stuffed and mounted, and
give it to the
prince as a gift!" The young cavalryman answered slyly. "After he
get's over
being sick, he'll like that." Janus laughed. Reaching down the
finance minister
grasped the mystic's heavy ball sac pulling it out away from his
body. "If you
would be so kind, I think I'd like these as my souvenir." Laughing
Morgan sliced
those off as well, Janus wrapped them in a kerchief putting it in a
pocket in his
cloak. Dressing they adjourned to the study for a drink, Yansurov
blanched as
he noticed the blood they were wiping off they're hand's. "Is
he...er have you..I
mean." He stuttered. "The Cardinal abbot is dead." Morgan supplied
gleefully
displaying the priest's enormous severed equine like manhood! "By
the god's!"
Yansurov swore sitting down heavily, downing his goblet of brandy in
a single
swallow! "This wasn't part of my plan!" "We've been through this,
you know
we had no choice!" "Now!" "Thank's to you!" Janus snarled. "So call
your
coachmen, we'll dump the body down one of the water return
shafts. "It'll end
up feeding the troll's in the under ground river just like the old
seer's." Yansurov
was pale and trembling as he crossed the room to pull the bell
cord. Finishing
their drinks they decided, to wrap the Cardinal abbot's body in the
bed sheet's.
Encase they were seen loading or unloading him from the carriage, and
it would
keep any blood from staining the satin interior. Yansurov thought
happily. The
bed room door swung open, and the three conspirators stood starring
at an empty
bed in stunned silence! Janus pulled his wand of lightning from his
sleeve, as
Morgan drew his saber and dagger. "It...It's impossible, the
apothecary said, I
mean I gave him more than e'nuff Litrim to kill any man!" Yansurov
rambled.
Janus and Morgan followed the bloody foot print's and blood drops
across the
floor. "He's gone down the back stair, go down the front and head
him off."
Janus ordered the young cavalryman. "I'll follow his trail and make
sure he
doesn't double back." Both men took off on their chase, as the
prince just sat on
the blood soaked bed mumbling over and over. "It's..It's...simply
impossible!"
Janus rushed down the back stair's, quickly emerging into the court
yard of the
prince's town house. The naked Cardinal abbot staggered drunkenly
across the
palatial garden's, not more than twenty yards away. Janus whispered
the
mystical word that triggered the wand's power. A brilliant blue
spark arced
across the garden, striking the fleeing priest in the back. It
instantly ran down his
convulsing body and into the ground! As the electricity died away
the big
mystic's scorched body fell limply to the ground! Morgan and Kile
the prince's
coachman came running around the corner of the house. Morgan tore
off the
coachman's cloak, and quickly rapped the smoldering corpse in
it. "Hitch up the
black carriage, it kind of looks like a cab." "So we'll use it to
carry the body
down to the nearest water return shaft." Janus instructed the
coachman. "Go with
him see to it all goes as planned." He ordered the young
cavalryman. "Very
well." Morgan agreed stabbing the corpse one last time with his
sabre. |
Sailing With Seven | TESTICLES, MINOR | None | Sailing With Seven
by Thole
I remember one time up in the mountains of New Hampshire; was right
in the middle of one hellacious August thunderstorm, rain coming
down
so you couldn't see the road. I managed to pull off in a little rest
area; thought I'd set a spell and have some ice cream, cup of tea,
let the storm blow over. I like rain. Especially the soft quiet kind
that falls of a summer evening, nice to sleep out in. But this thing
was a gully washer, not the kind of rain you'd want to be out hiking
in. Sure 'nuff, just as I was getting into the ice cream these two
bedraggled kids come out of the woods at the trail head and ducked
under the picnic table shelter. They dropped their packs on the
table
and sat there shivering. Weren't wearing but shorts and sweaters
from
what I could see. I gave a little toot on the air horn and waved to
them from the open door. They did the smart thing leaving their
packs
on the table and ran for my door. They got as far as just inside the
door when I told them to leave off all their wet stuff and I'd get
them a towel. Well it sort of surprised me that they were so willing
and quick but it didn't take more than a minute before they were
both
standing in my galley shivering in their skysuits. I told them as I
gave them a blanket that I'd not seen that particular style of
skysuit since I was 14 myself. Well they chuckled over that all the
way through two cups of hot cocoa each.
By then the rain had let up some and they were sort of hemming and
hawing about getting started. They had a ways to go to where they
could camp that night and on top of that if they had anything dry at
all it was outside in their packs. Well I hadn't much in the way of
plans, could park right there for the night as well as anywhere
else;
so I told 'em they might just dash out there and get their kit and
then they could bunk with me that night and dry off proper. So they
did.
Two boys traveling like they were would normally be fair game for my
business but I'd noticed the summer's marks burned into their nates
and wordlock each wore on their calf. They weren't behaving like
runaways so more'n likely they already belonged to somebody and he
quite likely knew just where they were. Besides, I had an
appointment up the road a piece for a black market purchase and
having these two around would only complicate matters especially if
they were runaways.
Its a complicated matter you see. The State regulates the raising
and
selling of boys but there is a sizeable black market as well and
that's where I come in. Most boys are grown on farms; that's all
they
do, crank out boys for the legit slave market. Outside of that, in
the population at large, only a certain number of free births are
allowed and a license costs the woman a finger; the birth, if it is
successful, costs her another finger as well. So you can see that
there is a ready supply of boys for my trade. Otherwise any
unlicensed birth will be fed back to the protein recycler for organ
recovery. Its a risky business for the mothers and my kind. They
have
to keep the kid under wraps and well fed until they're old enough
for
my clientele; that usually takes five to seven years. The key
difference between a black market boy and a farm raised lad is
balls.
Except for their breeding stock the farms castrate what they send to
the slave market.
When the two lads returned with their packs I cranked up the heat
and
helped them sort through their kit and spread out what needed
drying.
The boys introduced each other finally. The older one said the
other's name was Telemon, his bathboy. The younger responded to the
cue by telling me his master was named Thole, their master's
catamite. I greeted them in the proper manner by yanking twice on
their cocks but left myself unnamed for the present.
--My master has given us leave, Thole said, to roam the woods for a
few weeks before we are needed to prepare for winter. He has placed
us at the service of whomever should give us aid.
Well spoken lad I thought, must have a good master who cares for him
more than just as a catamite. I prepared some grub and the boys sat
with me to eat; then I prevailed upon their service to do the
cleaning while I moved the bus to a better location. They were still
running around naked, as is the way with boys of their social class,
and since I enjoyed looking at them there was no need to comment on
it. The rest area was deserted and after twilight set in I suggested
we take a swim in the river that came down from the hills they had
been hiking in.
During swim I could tell from their whispering they were interested
in the fact that I had no summer's marks. These are hash marks that
are cut or burned into a slave-boy's arse at the ceremony of mid
summer day. Slave-boys don't celebrate birthdays. Thole had thirteen
scars, his bathboy had eleven. These boys were in their prime, most
of their kind did not survive beyond fifteen or eighteen summers.
When we returned to the bus the sky was dark and I invited the boys
to have a glass of wine with me before we went to bed. I stayed
undressed now and went about shutting down the systems we would not
need for the night. Following the wine and some idle chatter we went
aft to the sleeping loft where I told my guests I would partake of
their service once more. It was almost like I had turned a switch;
both boys were erect in a moment, Thole knelt and kissed my cock and
his bathboy followed. Thole asked what service they could perform
for
my enjoyment and I replied that I wanted to watch them demonstrate
their knowledge and capabilities; I wanted them to do a slow dance
of
the things they knew to do for each other. But first I wanted to rub
their lovely bodies with scented oil and have them do likewise to
mine.
Telemon went first. Thole on one side, I on the other; we laid the
youth on his front and rubbed the warm scented oil into his back and
legs until he glowed in the candle light of the loft. He was pliant
as a sapling, supple as well cared leather, and when we turned him
over his erection was exquisite even for its lack of balls.
Thole went next. They were a well matched pair and I wondered what
history they shared. When we turned him over I worked the oil into
his crotch and discovered one gonad held up snugly in a scared
scrotum. I caressed it gently and the boy smiled.
--I saved one from the cutter jaws, he said.
It was quite a performance. Thole started at the feet of his young
friend and mostly using his tongue and finger tips caressed his way
to the boys head. Telemon responded with a sinuous writhing and
soft
ululations. At one point on the way up he took Thole's cock in his
arse but only for a moment. Then they were standing face to face,
hands on each other's heads, cocks fencing. Now it was Telemon's
turn
to do the stimulating and he worked over Thole's body from top to
bottom; on the way by he took the boy's cock into his mouth this
time
but again only for a moment. When he reached Thole's feet he was
kneeling and his face was on the bed; he lifted Thole's right foot
and ended his part of the dance by placing the foot on his head in a
gesture of submission. Now Thole continued by taking the boy's hands
away from his foot and raising the lad to his knees and placing
Telemon's hands on his thighs he put his own hands on the slave's
head and guided the mating of cock to mouth for a climax. Thole's
orgasm was self controlled and protracted; Telemon, his own body
thrusting in sympathy, was unfulfilled as he sucked and swallowed
his
little master's cum. Telemon sat back and Thole, one hand still on
this slave's head, turned to me and bowed low.
--Now I will be yours, Thole said, as I am for my master and you may
have Telemon as well if you will for his hardness awaits relief.
The two sat by me and proceed to pet and manoeuvre me. We rolled on
the bed and changed positions. Thole guided me into his arse as I
found Telemon to suck on and at the same time he was finding Thole
ready again to mate with his mouth. Their master was a man of good
taste and compassionate as well.
But Telemon did not relax from the rigidity of his orgasm. His
erection remained hard, his eyes staring, distant; his body, though
stiff, would twitch as if in a dream he would rather escape. Thole
said he would get that way at times.
--After coming in my mouth he would he would sit with my cum
dripping
from his lips and that faraway look. He says the visions come from
me
but only he can see them. They are not always good visions.
It was only a few minutes before the boy regained his senses but it
seemed longer. His story was grotesque even by my standards.
--I see through Thole's eyes. I am in a trap, hanging upside down by
a hook through my wordlock. Thole is looking at me, trying to untie
a
rope when a shadow falls upon him. He turns to look and another
hook,
on the end of an arm, strikes him and I can see no more. After a
while I know we are alive cos I sense he feels me near him but it is
dark and warm and we are tied.
--That is truly the worst vision you have ever had Telemon; I hope
it
never comes to pass. Perhaps it is all a bad dream from the wine.
But I know of a man with a hook. A black market trader like myself
but whose methods are crude. It has been said that when he uses the
hook he is more interested in the meat on the boy's bones than in
the
money a good slave would bring. I too hope the vision will not come
to pass.
In the morning the boys pack their kit, don their shorts and depart.
I can see from their tan they do not often wear anything. My journey
now takes me west across the mountains. I have three days to an
appointment for the purchase of a seven year old and it will take me
two of those days to get this old bus over the pass. Along the way
is
a market where boys will be traded; there may even be a late summer
crop from one of the nearby farms. On the second day I stop there to
see what the legit market looks like and how the prices are running.
The parking area is a dusty hole of broken pavement, remains of a
before times plaza they tell us was a shopping mall. Acres of land
devoted to the temporary storage of wheeled vehicles. Only an empty
shell of the mall remains. I walk around the perimeter of this shell
to observe the stock. Boys offered by the large state run farms are
chained in clusters along facades which conceal corrals containing
the best for later. Always the dregs are sold first, seeded with a
few attractive lads who get the most handling but also have the
highest prices. The boys are chained between posts in a manner that
keeps them standing in the sun with arms and legs spread for best
display. About the only movement they can make is to kneel to rest
but they must be on their feet at the approach of anyone. Their skin
shines with sweat and oil and the most attractive are in a near
continuous state of excitement from being fondled by every
prospective customer. Most of these boys are ten summers, a few are
eleven, fewer are twelve; the farm will not take them back after
that
so they will sell for meat value only.
In between the farm stalls you will likely find a lone boy or two
offered by some old man or woman. These are at times as young as
four
and five and usually are uncut by summers marks and still have their
balls. But the catch is that while a few might be parents or
relatives in such dire straits that they will sell their freeborn
sons into slavery there is likely a plant among them who will arrest
you for evading the tax. You see it is not unlawful to traffic in
flesh. Anyone can be sold. Boys between ten and thirteen bring the
highest prices. But the buyer is responsible to prepay the tax and
have the tax stamp available at time of sale. If you had a boy to
sell and could make your sale cleanly in the crowd both parties
could
likely get away with it. The penalties are high if you get caught by
a sting.
The latest ruse the sting is using is to take a boy hide from one
sent to the protein reclamer and fit it carefully on an undersized
agent. You can get a long ways home with such a prize before the
arrest happens. It pays to be very careful.
I made the rounds. Poking here prodding there. Nodding at an
occasional acquaintance in the crowd; Hook was there holding two
fingers in his beard in a manner that meant he had as many for sale
but they were not with him. Some of these lads are mighty fine
specimens, the geneticists at the farms are getting better with
their
fine tuning the muscle to weight ratio. There was one season where
they had gone so far that the typical offering was capable of
breaking his own bones in certain tasks they were so strong in
relationship to their bone mass. There is also a new breed of
hairless boy but I prefer my boys with balls, mongrel breed. The
farms castrate their boys to cut down on the theft of breed then do
a
certain amount of trading among themselves to maintain the breeding
stock. With the exception of the occasional intelligent throwback
like Thole the best lads are to be had on the black market. That was
next on my shopping list. The deal was waiting; I returned to my
bus.
Parked beside me when I returned was a battered old truck I
recognised as Hook's. The lot was not deserted and I was running a
risk to even look under the grimy tarp but there were his two sales,
Thole and Telemon, blindfolded gagged and bound together head to
foot. I whispered to Thole that I would rescue them then stooped to
open middle bellybox of my bus. A quick look around satisfied me the
risk was minimal so I rolled the boys from under the canvas and
stuffed them still tied among the detritus in the bellybox. Hook's
old canvas was so stiff with dirt and oil that it still held the
shape of the lads when I drove away.
An hour later in another deserted turnout from the highway I
stopped.
The lads were bruised and scratched from their ordeal but he had not
tried to use them. I put a spell on the bus and blended it into the
foliage as we walked away to the nearby river to bath. Telemon
looked
back and was astonished to see it was gone.
We sat in a pool of cool water and I helped them wash and applied a
healing salve to their wounds. Their adventure was just as Telemon
had perceived from Thole's vision. On the afternoon they left me
they
were taken in a trap along a popular trail frequented by the free
boys from a nearby school. Well there was little I could do now
without exposing my own part in the game so this gambit would have
to
go unchallenged for a while at least.
But now to get these to back to their master. Thole said they had
only three days left before their wordlock collars would begin to
remind them they should be home. Every day that reminder would
become
more forceful and I'd seen what that force can do to a slave-boy. It
produces a mental anguish so strong and complete that the boy's
impression is that the flesh is being stripped from his leg. There
is
no real pain and the leg is unharmed and functional but the
impression is devastating if not relieved quickly by the master.
In the meantime I had my appointment to keep. A woman still a day
away was waiting to sell me her son and from there it would be two
or
three days to Thole's farm. The boys agreed to risk the way with me
in that they had no kit and now no proof of leave. If caught now
they
would be treated as runaway slaves and depending on the scruples of
their gaolers might just as well be ransomed or sold as returned.
However if I got caught in my transaction they would be accomplices.
The next evening we were parked off a narrow road at the edge of a
copse looking out across a field of hay waiting to be mown. The boys
had been behaving as my slaves for more than twenty--four hours and
the bus was cleaner than it had been for a long while; even now they
worked whilst I watched. As the first stars came out two figures
appeared walking between the rows of new hay. I stepped away from
the
bus into the wood and when the two passed me I could hear the woman
telling her son he was going away to school.
--Bring the boy here, I said stepping near to the edge of the wood.
Take off your cloths lad, I want to see what you are up close.
The boy must come with me bringing nothing of his former life, not
even his name. The boy was standing in underwear and sandals,
clutching a stuffed bear, shivering with fear.
--Everything kid! Strip! I said, knocking his bear away.
He kicked away the sandals as the woman patted his head and
whispered
something kind to him; then he stripped away the briefs. I knelt
beside him and proceeded to feel him down carefully. When I snarled
a
question of his age he spoke with a steady voice and said seven.
--Ok Seven, I'll take you, I said, snapping a wordlock around his
calf.
I paid his mother and took the boy's hand to lead him away.
--What about my clothes? Can I have my bear?
--You won't need clothes. You won't need a bear. Leave them for your
little brother.
The boy cried as I dragged him away. The mother cried as she picked
up all that remained of her son. That's the way it is in my
business.
Inside the bus I handed the boy over to Telemon.
--Here is a virgin boy for you to break in, tell him how happy he
will be and show him what to expect and how to respond. Thole, you
sit up here with me and tell me about your master and how to find
him.
We drove for a few hours a staggered route through the night until I
was tired. Thole explained how he came to escape the jaws of the
ball
snatcher and how his master found him. He told me of a slave-boy
named Bedwin who raped the others in their household until the
horsemaster put an end to him. Then we slept. Telemon and Seven were
wrapped up together so I took Thole for one more night.
In the morning my guests were in a cold sweat struggling with the
calls of their wordlocks. Thole broke away from comforting Telemon
from time to time to give instructions to find his farm. A lot of
the
time I had to make do as he was familiar only with horse trails or
roads suitable for a ground car not a bus. As we closed on the farm
the pain grew less but at one point when I had to go out of the
direct approach they were writhing on the deck crying in pain. Seven
stood by mute, already bonded to Telemon and unable to help him.
--What is wrong? What is happening to them?
--They are slave-boys; that's what happens when they cannot come to
their master's call. The same will happen to you if you try to run
away from me or do not answer my call. Go and hold their hands now
for this time the pain is not their fault and you can help them by
sharing it.
We arrived at the horse farm a day beyond their leave. Their master
was as I had judged and hugged them both as one when they emerged
from the bus. He told them there would be time for stories at the
evening meal and sent them to the baths. I related a little of the
adventure, only saying that I had found them in bondage at a slave
market then he offered me a bath as was the custom of his house.
My slave-boy received a good start from Telemon in the few hours
they'd had together and performed well in the bath for a beginner.
It
was my first occasion to look at him carefully and I was happy with
this purchase and happy that I planned to keep this one for a while
at least.
--Do you want to suck me now master that I am clean and ready for
you? Which end of me do you want for your pleasure?
--What experience do you have?
--Only what Telemon showed me last night master. But he is smaller
than you and did not test me as you will.
--I will suck you now Seven to show you what I expect of you later;
but your service can wait. In the meantime, while we are guests here
you will always stand at my right hand; never sit unless I tell you
to; do not speak unless spoken to. Keep an eye on Thole and copy his
manner.
We stayed for two days. During that time Seven learned to ride a
horse and Thole provided him with an ample supply of the slippery
cream he used along with lessons on its best use. My new slave-boy
learned quickly what his life as a catamite would be like. I had
time
to listen to Thole and Telemon describe more than once the trap they
fell into and to think twice about going back there and putting Hook
out of business.
We drove west from there and for two years meandered about buying
and
selling, testing new markets and new strategies. Every night Seven
would go to sleep impaled on my erection and every morning I would
tickle him awake and suck him dry. By the time he was nine he was a
fair cook and a good mechanic.
In some of the small towns it was a simple matter to find delinquent
or homeless boys who could be purchased or lured in for a meal.
Seven
was often put to work in this latter area. There was always the risk
that I might loose him but as much as I enjoyed his company I tried
to maintain sight of the fact that he was purchased as a tool and
tools sometimes break or get lost and have to be replaced. He would
dress in something appropriate for the time and place and go into
the
streets posing as a homeless waif looking for a bed and a meal, if
necessary offering his body in payment but always careful not to be
taken anywhere. Instead he would listen for news that there was no
good place and then bring his acquaintance to me.
In another town I might strike a deal with an over crowded orphan
home or a gaol. They were more than willing to sell a boy or two
cheap to help make ends meet. Each boy would be processed as he
arrived, I never let more than two get together. Occasionally Seven
would bring a boy with him that would be good for a trick or two
before we put him down.
The process mainly involved keeping the boy relaxed and
unsuspecting.
Tension and too much awareness only made the stasis more difficult
to
take hold. The first ploy would be to get the lad to undress and
shower; if that worked he would be gassed. Some boys wanted to eat
first and then they would submit to a fucking; these would be
drugged
in their food. The main thing was to get them naked, clean and
sleeping without the use of force or too much work on my part. Once
I
had achieved those ends Seven would inspect and dispose of their
clothing; saving out anything that might fit him and was in good
repair. We would keep any papers and of course money; and some of
these runaways were surprisingly well off with credits sewn into
false hems and inside pockets or worn inside of a tight codpiece.
The clean, naked youth was injected with a complex drug that induced
stasis by slowing metabolism, heartbeat and respiration; then the
body was placed in the forward belly box and maintained at five
degrees. A boy prepared that way would be viable for a month and
usually I would have him delivered by then.
Then we found a boat and took up sailing.
I shifted my operations to a coastal city where I could leave the
bus
in a secure warehouse while my catamite and I sailed short cruises
among the nearby islands. At first it had been Seven's idea. He
suggested that we might accomplish the same ends with a boat and we
could bring the slave-boys back to the city and move them to market
from there. Suffice it to say that the idea worked out well and we
continued in that mode for another two years.
My slave-boy Seven was now eleven and as much as I tried to disavow
it there was a fondness I felt for him that went beyond his
performance as a bed toy. He had taught himself a certain fluency in
the local dialect that enabled us to broaden the base of wares we
could offer. There had been a couple of occasions where I had
actually suggested he wear shorts or a tunic so as to play the part
of my son rather than my slave; I had a bit of a difficulty bringing
him back into line after the second such instance.
We had returned to the bus from dinner with a long time business
associate and his family--he had two free--sons and maintained no
slaves--when Seven, obviously continuing to play the role to which
he
had just been exposed and quickly absorbed, proceeded to help
himself to a glass of water and sit at the galley table. I enabled
his wordlock and gave a command that jolted him writhing to the
deck.
--Return to your proper station at once! Get out of that tunic and
clean up the water you have spilt!
He crawled crying to my feet but I refused to acknowledge his
entreaties until he was naked as a slave-boy should be and only then
released him from the pain of my command.
--You will remember always that playing the roll of my son is only a
roll you play, albeit one you fit well, but a roll nonetheless; you
are slave-boy first.
The next week I put the bus in storage and we set out on a long
cruise. The boat was a relic from an earlier time. She was a well
appointed ten metre sail powered craft, rigged for one to handle
with
cozy accommodations for two. However this was not entirely a
pleasure
cruise, Seven and I were not alone; there were three slave-boys in
stasis, on ice, packed in the keel. After the first day out I left
off getting dressed for watch. Seven and I drifted in and out of the
father--son aspect of our relationship; he was wary of this game,
confused, and sometimes, I sensed, bitter. If I took him as my free
son there could be no disposing of him when his usefulness as a
slave-boy came to an end. In his present status he had perhaps two
years left. Giving him the freedom and responsibility of filial
relationship was fraught with risk and expense beyond the minimal
upkeep required to maintain a slave-boy. We had words to parry and
there was plenty of time to think about the promise that would be
required of each of us to change the present arrangement.
In the meantime the weather held and we sailed with the trades south
and west while our life assumed an almost courtship ritualism. I
began to ask him for his assistance, request the favours of his sex,
seek his advice and opinion. He responded cautiously with an
occasional decline or a contrary idea; we danced about the embrace
of
what both of us wanted. As the days went by he became more
responsive
and more demanding as a sexual object. I would often be awakened by
him probing me at which ever end he found opportune; it was hard for
me to fathom if he was trying to curry favour or satisfy his own
curiosity, imagination, or appetite.
When we were ready to bring the three slave-boys out of stasis prior
to landing them I removed Seven's wordlock and allowed him to wear
shorts. He took each of the new boys in the arse whilst the others
watched and then commanded they perform a circle suck for his
amusement. On the quay we were met by their buyer who examined his
purchase carefully. He petted each lad to an erect condition and
brought them off by hand, catching their cum in the palm of his hand
which he held up for them to lick clean. Only then did he pay for
his
purchase and accept the keys to their wordlocks.
--So, looks like you've come prepared with your own catamite, he
said
eyeing Seven who was standing ready to cast off. Perhaps he too is
for sale; I'm sure he is an adept in the service I require.
--Seven is my son, I said. He is not for sale.
We parted with a handshake and an order for three more young boys.
Next stop was a day away at a small atoll for some rest before
sailing back to the mainland. That evening Seven was rather subdued.
Finally after an hour of pacing and fretting he stood up to me with
tearful eyes.
--You told that man I was your son but you have not told that to me
yet. Is it to be another trick to keep me in my place?
I took him in my arms and hugged him and kissed him; I apologised
and
begged him to forgive me. Our world changed that night.
In the morning we slipped through a gap in the reef and anchored in
a
shallow, protected lagoon. It was a short swim to the spit of sand
that served as home to barely an acre of palms and there we slept
soundly for the first time in nearly two weeks. When I woke on the
sand it was to the usual ministrations of Seven's mouth on my
erection but his service was cut short by a scimitar who's point was
brought against his balls from behind at the same time another was
laid against my neck. The boy nearly castrated himself when he
jumped
back; the sword moved as he fell over and came down again to pin his
chest.
--My what a pretty sight we have here, the voice behind me said. --
Slave and master, catamite and pederast, engaged in savagely
despoiling our sacred island. Stand up slowly catamite. Put your
hands on your head.
The sword pinning Seven to the beach moved and began to prod his
back
and legs, drawing blood as he complied.
--Piss on your master slave-boy. Quickly! Before I cut off your
balls and feed them to you.
Seven looked down at me, his eyes wide with fear and let the pee run
out of himself onto my chest.
--Now my dear catamite let me see if your cock works as well in its
other job. Masturbate for your master; let your cum fall upon him
that he might have something to remember you by.
Seven made a break for the water, running as fast as he could, but a
whip snapped around his ankle and he sprawled in the sand.
--Bad catamite. You will sting for that foolishness. And the whip
snapped again across his thighs; his blood spattered the sand.
--Crawl back here and get on your knees catamite and try again to
get
hold of your self.
Seven crawled to my side and stood on his knees, blood caked with
sand on his thighs as he began to stroke himself slowly. I moved a
hand to touch his leg. Tears were running down his cheeks and he
choked words.
--I love you Father, I love you.
His cum spurted onto my chest and the voice behind me laughed.
--Bind him and take him away.
Two boys who did not look much older than Seven, naked but for
feathered and bejeweled codpieces came into view. They placed a cock
ring around my boy's cock and balls with short chains to bracelets
that were placed on his wrists and ankles. The chains kept his hands
together at his cock and those to his ankles were so short he could
not stand upright but had to hobble along stooped. One boy placed
another chain around Seven's neck and led him away from me.
--Now you old man; roll over and bury your face in the sand.
The scimitar at my throat pointed the way and before I was fully
turned sand was being piled upon my back until I was quite buried.
By
the time I had myself dug out there were only foot prints and a few
drops of dried blood where Seven had knelt over me. I searched
around
the atoll and found where a small boat had been dragged up on the
far
shore; it was but a speck on the horizon now.
I returned to my boat and motored after them, keeping just on the
edge of visibility and as night fell began to close on them with no
lights running. It appeared they were in a small boat, perhaps an
inflatable, powered with an outboard. I set the autopilot to follow
them and went over the side with scuba gear and a Tethered Electric
Underwater Propulsion device. They were in a small inflatable and I
was able to come up under them and slit their keel and main tubes.
In
the panic that ensued they forgot about Seven who was able to roll
over the side as their boat was pulled under by the weight of the
motor and extra cans of gas.
Seven's cock and balls were bruised and tender for a few days from
the torment of the ring and chains but he was able to stand watch
and
before the week was out was as good as ever. On the voyage back to
the mainland I removed his wordlock and we entered a new phase in
our
relationship; he took a new name, Peter, and we talked of impressing
a new young slave-boy into the service of both of us.
We wanted a slave-boy familiar with the sea and so stopped at every
island along the way to explore the markets which were not as well
organised or controlled as on the mainland. If we could find a
suitable lad it would be no problem to forge the necessary
documents.
On the island of Matu--Rapa there is the kind of crowded coastal
community and depressed economy that fosters the sale of children.
We
put in there for water and supplies.
Peter saw what we were looking for in the canoe of one of the local
fishermen and with his uncanny ability with languages was able to
ascertain the lad was an orphan thrust upon an already large family
by indigent relatives. The boy was most certainly for sale; they
would have given him away just for the knowledge he would be fed. He
was of small stature, seven years, brown skinned with brown eyes and
long straight black hair; standing among several other boys who were
likely his cousins, not much older and all wearing only pareus or
loin cloths. I could have found a ready market for the lot of them.
It was interesting to see the look of dismay on the face of the lad
who appeared to be next youngest when the boy of our choice stepped
out of the canoe onto the floating dock and handed his pareu back to
the old man making the deal. He came to them naked and the old man
wanted the cloth for the next of his own sons.
Peter named our new slave-boy Ma--hitu which meant more seven in the
boy's tongue and I installed the wordlock before we left the dock.
Ma--hitu was like a monkey in the rigging and seemed quite happy
learning new words as we sailed away from his homeland. However,
once
we out of sight of his island and Peter and I removed our shorts a
change came over him. He was morose, fawning, and, strangest of all,
very aroused, erect, and while he did not use his hands to
masturbate
he would stand close to what ever he could and rub against it. When
Peter called to him the boy did not answer at first; only after a
while did he say that Ma--hitu was not at home. Eventually Peter was
better able to translate that "at home" meant "in here"; that the
boy's name, as near as we could make it, was something like
gimmeeheresuckmouth. And now it made more sense why the lad in the
boat was so unhappy over the sale; we had taken away the family
catamite and that position would revert back to him who had no doubt
only recently been relieved by Ma--hitu.
But what was this change of personality? When Peter sat on the deck
the boy stood in front of him offering himself. When I tried to nap
the boy came and laid beside me with his head on my thigh. It was as
if our undressing was an invitation or a demand for him to perform
and he was not worn out by our use of him but would rebound after
only a few minutes.
That night the boy taught Peter a new trick, to fuck him in the arse
and suck him off at the same time. Peter had often wondered what it
might be like to suck himself; this is the closest he'd come to that
goal. But the slave-boy was not calmed and spent much of the night
sucking on Peter even while they both slept. Only when we dressed
the
next day did he revert to his former self and when Peter and I took
turns being naked the boy would fawn over which ever one that was.
Some rigorous use of the wordlock was necessary to get this
insatiable youth to stay at any task that did not involve sex. In
the
course of our journey we were able to instill in him the need to be
responsive to our call but to otherwise mind his own tasks
regardless
of what we were wearing.
--30-- |
Aristocrat, The - Part 2 | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES, MINOR | The surfacing of hidden desires. | ` Over the next couple of months, her anger, and her resolve, hardened. At
first she did not know what route to take. She wanted to make up for those
lost years, but she also wanted to maintain her reputation. After all, she was
still Dame Cecelia De Joffe. Then one afternoon the Sheikh called to pay his
respects to the wife of his former friend and business partner. Her husband
and the Sheikh had been involved in business together for a number of years
before his death. It was rumoured that the Sheikh was involved in the slave
traffic. Over the past couple of months Cecelia had began to wonder as to her
husbands involvement with the Sheikh. Thoughts crossed her mind that she would
never have even dreamed of before now. What exactly was the business that they
were involved in together?. `
The Sheikh sat sipping tea in her drawing room, engaging in polite small talk.
He was a rather charming man, thin and rather gaunt with a short black beard.
She had met him many times before when he visited her husband. She had always
liked him.
" It is said that you have some involvement in the slave trade Sheikh, and
that my late husband was also involved, is there any truth in that"?. She was
amazed at how calmly he reacted to this. He just sat sipping his tea and
smiling.
" Ah, my dear Dame Cecelia" he said softly, what a remarkable lady you are.
Indeed I have always suspected that under that calm and graceful exterior lay
a woman of true fire and passion. Not many would have the courage to ask such
a question of me. I applaud you Madam for your directness. As to your
question, indeed we live in a hard and unforgiving world , we do what we have
to do". He sat back still smiling and sipped his tea. That was all he needed
to say. She had all the answers she needed now. It seemed as if a blindfold
had suddenly been removed from her eyes, and there, revealed in all its stark
reality, lay the real world. A world that , up to now she had pretended did
not exist.
She lay her teacup on the small table in front of her.
" Sheikh Mahood" she said quietly, since my husband died, my household has
been without servants, My circumstances are rather diminished you will
understand. I am finding it rather difficult to manage without help. Is it
within your power to assist me in any way?.
She was looking straight at him now.
He sat, tapping his figers gently on the table, and smiling.
" My dear friend, it would be an honour to be of assistance. You were the wife
of my dearest friend , I consider it a honour just to be asked to come to your
aid in this matter?.
" Thank you Sheikh Mahood for your kind words".
" Now Madam, let us discuss specifics. But first of all I must insist on this.
I will not take payement for my little service, on that I will not yield. Now,
what type of, how shall we put it, merchandise, would you prefer?.
Her heart was beating faster now.
" I rather thought that boys would be more suitable to my requirments. I would
prefer, if possible, boys of about thirteen or fourteen, they are easier to
manage when young, would you not agree?.
" Of course Dame Cecelia, an excellent choice, most suitable for your needs".
She knew from his smile that he realised from the very beginning what she
really wanted. But it did not seem to matter anymore.
To her astonishment he deliver on his promise just two days later.
Two of the most beautiful olive- skinned boys she had ever laid eyes on. Now
she knew that the Sheikh understood. He had deliver the boys himself. She took
his hand and thanked him. He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. " It
is my pleasure Madam" he said. They sat sipping tea in silence. As he got up
to leave Celia summoned up her courage.
" Would you be offended if I asked you a question Sheikh Mahood" she said,
please refuse to answer if you wish, I shall not be offended".
" Ask what you wish" he said.
" Is it true that you castrate some of them"?.
To her amazement he showed not the slightest surprise. Just that same smile.
His casual answer amazed her even more.
" Yes, it is true, some of them are cut. It depends on the use they are to be
put to, and of course, on who purchases them. Both men and women buyers often
insist on the removal of the stones. Why, do you want me to have your two boys
gelded?. If you do I assure you it is not a problem".
" No no" Cecelia answered quickly, I was just curious, I have heard of the
practice, that is all". The Sheikh smiled again.
" Perhaps we will discuss it further the next time I visit" he said. When he
had gone she leaned against the doorframe. She was shaking. She could not get
over how casually he had spoken about castration. " He castrates boys,he
actually castrates them" she thought. She felt a warmness in her groin as she
thought about what he had said.
For the next few days the boys carried out the chores she had given them. They
were the prettiest youngsters she had ever seen, both were about fourteen. She
sat and watched them work, her eyes never far from their young groins. It took
her that time to summon up enough courage to do what she really wanted. After
two days of this she could stand it no longer. Fortified with two glasses of
wine she ordered one of the boys to come to her room. She was sitting on the
bed when he came in. She was nervous, her hands shaking.
But the wine had helped.
"Come over here child" she said. He did as she asked and stood in front of
her. " You are very pretty" she said.
She looked up at him.
" I want you to take off your loincloth for me" she said, her voice trembling.
" Yes Maam," he said. He dropped them to the floor and stood, naked as he was
born, in front of her. Her hands were trembling as she took him by the hips
and pulled him closer, her eyes glued to his large flacid penis and dangling
testicles. Her lust for the boy now overcame her shame. His dangling flesh was
in her hands now, her mouth was on him, biting and sucking. Pushing him to the
bed she went between his legs, licking and sucking the flesh she had yearned
for , yearned for so long. Her fingers searched for the balls, her mouth
devouring the sac. His testicles filled her mouth, she wanted to bite. Them
his rod ,hard, firm and wet. She heard him cry out, then her mouth filled with
hot sweet liquid. She held his stones tightly as his milk spurted . She went
back to his testicles, fingers stuffing the wet sac into her ravenous mouth.
The Sheikhs words going around and around in her head.
"Boys can be castrated, boys are often castrated, boys have their stones cut
out."
He screamed as her teeth closed on him.
To be continued.
* * * |
Dinos Tag - Teil 3 | STRAIGHT, BI, TESTICLES | ` Mit einem lauten Grunzen zog sich Ralf aus Dino zurück. Mit seinem immer
noch etwas geschwollenem Schwanz trat er vor Doris Käfig. Diese wusste
bescheid und ging in Position: knapp hinter dem Gitter kniend. Kaum war sie
bereit da lies Ralf seine Rute vor dem Gesicht seiner Zofe baumeln. Brav nahm
Doris den Schwanz ihres Herrn in den Mund um ihn gründlich zu reinigen. Sie
saugte ihn ganz in ihren Mund und umschloss ihn mit ihren weichen Lippen.
Zärtlich uns sanft reinigte sie Ralfs Prügel, der durch diese Zuwendung wieder
an Größe gewann und immer praller wurde. Doris sah flehend zu ihrem Herren
hoch, der ihren Mund immer praller ausfüllte, sodass sie keine Luft mehr
bekam. Ralf blieb unberührt und stieß seinen Prügel immer tiefer in Doris
Rachen, bis dieser die Tränen über die Wangen liefen und sie sich mit
zitternden Händen am Gitter fest klammerte. Das Gefühl seine Sklavin derart
unter Kontrolle zu haben erregte Ralf zusätzlich und so dauerte es nur kurz,
bis er sich laut stöhnen tief in den Rachen seiner Sklavin entlud. Doris war
am Rande der Ohnmacht als ihr der Saft ihres Herrn heiß in ihren Magen floss.
`
Dino kam in der Zwischenzeit nicht zur Ruhe. Denn noch immer spürte er sein
Geschlecht unter Strom. Die Entnahem seines Samen brachte ihm keinesfalls die
gewünschte Erlösung und das Ende der Tortur. Lady Irena tat gerade so, als
hätte sie den Abgang seines Spermas nicht bemerkt. Dino sah sie an, mit einem
Blick in seinen Augen, der um Erlösung, um Gnade geradezu flehte. Lady Irean
unterdessen schein sich aber ganz und gar nicht darauf vorzubereiten, Dino
diesen Gefallen der Erlösung zu tun. Geduldig wartete sie, bis Sir Ralf
gefolgt von Doris wieder an ihre Seite getreten war. „Ich bin fertig!, sagte
er und dann zu Doris: „Du kümmerst Dich um den Sklaven und meldest uns sobald
seine Entsamung abgeschlossen ist. Wir ziehen uns nun zurück!“ „Ja mein Herr“,
antwortete Doris mit gesenktem Haupt „ganz wie Sie es wünschen. Und danke für
das Geschenk Ihres Spermas mein Herr!“ Ralf und Irena gingen zu Tür, traten
auf den Gang und ließen Dino mit Doris im Keller zurück.
Die ganze Zeit über merkte Dino nicht, was mit ihm passiere und was in ihm
vorging. Aber jetzt da wieder Stille den Raum beherrschte – Doris blieb
schweigsam – spüret er, dass das grausame Spiel immer noch im Gange war. Viel
mehr noch. Er spürte dass diese Höllenmaschine bald wieder ihr grausames Spiel
zu einem Höhepunkt trieb. Da war wieder dieses Kribbeln und das Brennen.
Bereitete ihm das Kribbeln Lust so verhinderte das Brennen einen erlösenden
Orgasmus. Und so ergoss sich wieder ein zähflüssiger, schon deutlich kleinerer
Schwall seines Samens in den Beutel. Zu ersten mal schrei Dino auf, diesem
Schmerz konnte er nicht widerstehen. Doris indessen begann einen Stahldildo
langsam in Dinos Hintern zu bohren. Der Dildo hatte an seiner Spitze eine
Kugel von rund 5cm Durchmesser. Vom Sperma Sir Ralfs genügen geschmiert, war
es für Doris leicht, die Kugel in den Körper des wehrlosen Opfers zu bohren.
Und kaum als das Stück in seinen Darm eingedrungen war, so dass die Kugel
seine Prostata drückte, wurde die Elektrode teil des Systems. Doris verband
die Kabeln und schon schoss der erste Stromschlag mitten durch Dinos
gepeinigte Prostata. Dino verkrampfte sich in spastischen Zuckungen. Seine
Hände ballten sich unkontrolliert zu Fäusten um dann sofort wieder die Finger
ganz weit zu spreizen. Er war nicht mehr Herr seines Körpers. Ohne Unterlass
förderte diese Behandlung Dinos Sperma. Dino Atmete schwer, besser gesagt er
röchelte nur noch. Er konnte die Zahl seiner beinahe Orgasmen nicht mehr
zählen. Sein ganzer Unterleib zuckte spastisch unkontrolliert und
unkontrollierbar unter den Stromstößen. Doris blieb schweigsam. Stundenlang.
Irgendwann spät in der Nacht – oder kam es Dino nur so lange vor – trat Doris
an seinen Stuhl heran. „Deine Hoden sind nun völlig leer gepumpt! Ich werde
die Herrschaften verständigen.“ Kaum hatte sie via Haustelefon mit Lady Irean
gesprochen, stand sie auch schon im Kellerverlies. Offensichtlich war sie sehr
zufrieden mit dem Ergebnis, denn sie lächelte als sie den sich krümmenden,
halb benommenen Sklave sah, aus dessen Katheder, trotz eruptiven Zuckens
seines Schwanzes nichts mehr hervorkam. Inzwischen war Sir Rald ebenfalls
eingetreten. Gelassen, als ob ihn das ganze nichts angehen würde setzte er
sich auf einen Stuhl in relativ großer Entfernung zu dem Geschehen. Lady Irena
schaltete indessen die Höllenmaschine ab und sah wie Dino in sich
zusammensackte. Sir Ralf erhob sein Wort, und hohl klang es aus der Ferne:
„Dino! Lady Irena hat beschlossen, Dich als Sklave in ihren Dienst zu nehmen.
Du kannst jetzt entscheiden, ob Du gehen, oder für immer Lady Irenas
Leibeigener sein möchtest. Wenn Du gehen willst dann wird Dich Doris
augenblicklich befreien, ankleiden und nach hause bringen. Andernfalls
übergebe ich Dich in die Hände meiner Frau. Ich frage Dich daher: Möchtest Du
Zum Sklaven Lady Irenas werden für alle Zeit?“
Dino starrte die ganze Zeit über an die Decke. Er vermied es, irgendwem der
Anwesenden in die Augen sehen zu müssen, um sich voll und ganz auf seine
Gedanken konzentrieren zu können. Gefühl und Verstand kämpften einen
aussichtslosen Kampf. Zu stark war sein Gefühl und sein Verlangen nach
Hingabe. „Ja mein Herr, ich möchte Sklave sein!“ sagte er mit letzer Kraft.
Sir Ralf antwortete langsam und gelassen: „Der einzige in diesem Haus, dem es
gestattet ist, Sperma zu produzieren und zu verspritzen bin ich.“ Während er
das sagte, packte Lady Irena Dinos Hodensack, der noch immer taub war von der
stundenlangen Stromfolter. „Die wirst Du morgen an unseren Hund verfüttern“,
sagte Irena mit einem hämischen Grinsen auf dem Gesicht. Dann griff sie nach
einem großen Messer das im Licht aufblitzte. Dino riss seine Augen auf, doch
er konnte nichts mehr tun um sich aus dieser Lage zu befreien, sich zu retten.
Schon spürte er die kalte Klinge auf seiner Haut. Deutlich spürte er den
brennenden Schmerz einer Schnittwunde als Lady Irena Dinos Sack fest packte,
nach unten zog und ihn mit einem einzigen, langsamen Schnitt vom Körper
trennte.
* * * |
|
Summer on Gastern Island, Part V | GAY, PENECTOMY, MINOR | Rob shares some news with Stephen and Brendan comes back home. | I was considering my Dad’s question when I slipped back into the bed, but
there was no doubt in my mind that I wanted to go first. Honestly, I didn’t
know if I could wait the few short days until I could finally realize my
desire. Stephen was still sleeping, his body curved into the same casual
position it had taken an hour earlier. I couldn’t resist the temptation to
slide back between his tanned arms. It was going to be a warm day, but the
gentle heat of his skin was so comforting. The touch of his body and the
peaceful rise and fall of his chest calmed my nerves which were still jumping
from the decision I had just made.
“Glad you came back to bed, Rob. I was getting lonely.” I hadn’t noticed
Stephen stir, but now he was snuggling closer. The smell of his hair
intoxicated me as he nuzzled into my neck. “Everything alright? I could hear
your Dad talking.”
“Um… yeah, everything is alright. But we need to talk about something.” Even
Stephen’s touch couldn’t calm my nerves about what I was about to say. I
didn’t want to hurt him, but I knew he needed to know with enough time to
adjust to the idea before I visited the clinic.
Stephen pulled himself up slowly into a sitting position, leaning back on our
pillows. “What’s up?”
“I have something to tell you, and I don’t think you’re going to like it.”
“You’re worrying me, babe. Please tell me.” He was staring at me intently.
“Alright. Here goes.” I took a deep breath and let it out. “Brendan and I are
both going to have penectomies performed next week.” As soon as the words were
out of my mouth, I wished I had put it more gently. Stephen’s whole body
seemed wracked with despair as he began to shake his head. “Stephen, please
don’t react this way. It’s what we both want.”
“Like I wanted it?” He grunted. “Oh Rob, please don’t ruin yourself like I
have.”
I took him in my arms, holding him close. He was crying hard. “Shh. It’s going
to be alright. It’s going to be different for us. We don’t have to face this
alone like you did.” I stroked his hair as I tried to kiss away the tears on
his cheeks. “Stephen, look at me.” He looked into my eyes, his lips quivering.
“I love the way your body is now. I love you, and I want to share this with
you.”
“I’m a freak, Rob. You don’t want to be like me.”
I pulled the sheet down away from his lap and let my fingers slowly caress the
stubble around his scar. “You aren’t a freak. You are beautiful. You’ve made
your body the way you’ve always wanted it, and I respect you so much for that.
And you know what?”
“What?” He was looking down at himself with a mixture of fascination and
revulsion.
“I can’t wait to know what it will feel like to rub my scar against yours, to
feel your arms around me and mine around you without the urgency of our cocks
crying out for attention. I can’t wait to enjoy being with you, enjoying your
whole body without this distraction.” I grabbed my hard cock and squeezed it
to emphasize the point.
Stephen looked down at himself, and then he gently took my penis in his hand
and began to stroke it. “You won’t ever feel this again, and you WILL miss it.
You just don’t understand. You can’t understand until it’s gone.”
“I know I will miss it sometimes, but I will have something more important
afterward. My body will be the way I want it to be, and I will have you.”
“You already have me, Rob. Whether you have a cock or not, you will still have
me.”
“I know, Stephen, but after we will be together like we are meant to be.” I
straddled his legs as I began to kiss him deep, wrapping my arms around him.
For an instant, Stephen resisted, like he wanted to say something more, but as
my tongue began to stroke his, all resistance faded, and he pulled me close.
The morning sun and sea breeze were streaming in the open window, setting off
the golden tan and musky scent of Stephen’s body. I couldn’t resist the urge
to revel in the touch and taste of his skin, kissing my way from the stubble
of his chin, down his neck. Peppering his shoulders and arms with my lips, I
pushed his arms over his head and licked down his taut triceps. I worked my
mouth over his chest and the hollow of his throat, and then settled in to lick
and gnaw his nipples. When I looked up, Stephen’s eyes were closed and his
breath was coming faster, his excitement obvious.
I slid off his body and spread his legs open, pulling them onto my shoulders.
Mesmerized by the beauty of his “Y” shaped scar, I blew gently on it making
him moan. The new skin that had been red and angry the day before was now
pink, and the neat rows of stitches were dissolving. Stroking his legs with my
hands, I began to work my mouth on his ankles, calves, knees, and thighs,
getting closer to his warm balls with every lick and kiss.
“Wait, Rob.” He stopped me as I was about to turn my attention to what
remained of his package. “I want you inside me.”
I looked out the window. “I can’t, Stephen, not yet. I want my last time to be
special, like that night we spent under the lifeguard tower. I have to save it
up until then.”
He sighed heavily, half-hearted acceptance starting to set in. “I understand.
It’s okay. I felt the same way. I will remember that night I was inside you
for the rest of my life.” He reached up and stroked my hair as he pushed my
head back between his legs. Instead of continuing what I was doing, I pulled
his legs farther onto my shoulders and nestled my mouth in close to his hole.
While I traced my tongue in little circles, Stephen began to moan again. As
his breath began to come in quick pants and grunts, I slipped a finger inside
him. Massaging his prostate slowly, I worked another finger in, and then
another.
My mouth was now free to return to his balls, which it did hungrily, sucking
them in one at the time, then both together. As I tongued his orbs, Stephen
began to push against my hand in time with his quickening breath. He shouted
out my name as cum jetted out of the new slit behind his balls and coated my
chin and neck. His hole clinched down hard on my fingers as he came, but he
also lost control of his bladder again.
“Oh, Rob, I’m so sorry. I can hold it back most of the time, but while I’m
cumming everything relaxes.” With difficulty, he pulled his legs off of me and
turned away, disgusted with himself.
“No, it’s okay, Stephen.” I reached up to touch his face, but he pulled
farther away. Tears were again leaking from his eyes as he curled into a fetal
position.
“I’m not sure I can take all of this, Rob. In a way, I love my new body, but
in another I hate myself for what I have done. I hate myself for giving in to
my urges, and I hate myself for what I’ve done to you and your brother. I hate
that I will never cum inside you.”
I wadded up the loose sheet and wiped myself off, tossing the soiled cloth to
the floor as I tried to scoot closer to Stephen. My closeness didn’t seem to
be offering him much comfort, though. The hardness of my cock was betraying us
both – I couldn’t spoon against him without pressing my cock against him, a
reminder he didn’t need right now. Grasping for the right words, the right
action, I didn’t know what to do. It terrified me that Stephen might be
slipping into a suicidal depression, but selfishly it scared me even more that
he was pulling away from me. I could take almost anything, but not losing him.
In desperation I grabbed his shoulders and pulled him around toward me. He
tried to resist, but in his weakened condition, I was stronger. He turned his
face to the window, trying not to look at me – I couldn’t tell if he was
starting to hate me or if he just despised himself so much that he didn’t want
me to see his tears. I wasn’t going to let that slide. Taking his face in my
hands, I made him look at me. Kissing his leaden lips gently, my eyes searched
his. “Look at me!”
“Rob…”
“Enough, Stephen. I love you. I love all of you. I love your body the way it
is now.” He tried to pull away again, but I held him firm. “I won’t lie and
say that I understand everything you’re feeling. I’m sure that I don’t, but I
do know that you feel like somehow you’ve betrayed yourself and betrayed me.
Well, you haven’t. You reached out and took hold of something you’ve always
wanted for yourself, and you’ve given me the strength to do the same. Are
there going to be hard problems to work through? You bet. Is life going to be
perfect? No way. I don’t know what’s going to happen. I’m scared shitless, to
be honest, but I also know that this is something you wanted, and it’s
something that I want for both of us. And I know that whatever comes we can
face it together.”
Stephen stopped trying to look away, but as his resistance faded, so did his
composure. He dissolved into sobs as his arms wrapped around me like he was
clinging to a rock in the open sea. “I am so scared, too, Rob. I’m scared I’ll
never be happy again. I’m scared that if you go through with your penectomy
you will hate me, and that I will end up losing you. I’m scared for Brendan –
he’s so young. I’m scared I’m never going to cum again without pissing all
over myself. I’m scared of what people will think when they find out. I’m so
scared of everything. Please hold me.”
I pulled him close, so close. I would do anything to stop his suffering. Our
bodies intertwined, I kissed him again, and this time he kissed back. “Baby,
if you really want me not to do it, I won’t.” My cock didn’t matter to me
anymore, what I wanted didn’t matter anymore. Only making Stephen better
mattered.
He stopped crying. “You would do that for me, Rob?”
“I can’t stand to see you hurting, and I would do anything to make it stop.”
He looked deep into my eyes, searching. “Do you really want it, Rob? Do you
really think it will make you happy?”
I took a deep breath and let it out. “I want it more than anything except
making you happy, Stephen. I want to share it with you, and I also want it for
myself. None of that matters, though, if it’s going to make you this upset.”
Still searching for something deep inside me, his eyes were more intense than
I had ever seen them before. “When is your appointment with the clinic?”
“It doesn’t matter. I will tell dad to cancel it. I can’t see you like this.”
“When is the appointment?” His voice was demanding, but not hard.
“The pre-op visit is Monday morning, and the procedure is scheduled for
Wednesday morning.”
His body relaxed against me, and his tears had stopped. “Can I come with you
on Monday?”
“What?” I was shocked. “Of course you can, but I didn’t think you…”
“Rob, I can see it in your eyes. You want this as much as I wanted it. I can’t
let you give up on something you want so much just because you don’t want to
hurt me. I understand now – this isn’t just some passing thing. Just like you
want to make me happy, I want more than anything to make you happy. If this is
what it takes, then this is what it takes.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. Just promise me one thing.”
“Anything, Stephen.”
“Promise me you’ll let me be there for you, that you won’t try to shield me.
If we’re going to share our lives, if we’re going to share this…” His hand
slid between us and trailed over my now flaccid penis and his scar. “You have
to let me share it all with you.”
“I promise.”
We were both silent for a long time. My heart was racing, and the only thing
that was keeping me from losing control was that Stephen’s arms were around
me. We held each other in the morning light, both of us thinking but not
speaking. It was finally becoming a reality – we were going to share this, we
were going to share everything.
There was a knock at the door, and we heard my Dad’s voice. “You boys alright
in there?”
“Everything’s just fine, Dad.”
“Glad to hear it. I just wanted to let you know your Mother called. She and
Brendan will be driving home as soon as they check out of the hotel. They
should be home sometime this afternoon. In the meantime, I’m going to take a
walk and then make a grocery run. I’ll be back before they arrive, but I
wanted to let you know.”
“Ok, Dad. Have a good walk.”
I snuggled back into Stephen. He was actually smiling. “What are you thinking
about?”
“I’m thinking about how lucky I am. Even with all that’s happened and all
that’s going to happen, I’ve never felt more at home than I do here with you
and your family.”
“I’m so glad you feel at home, and remember, my family is your family now.”
“You know, your Dad and I had a long talk on the way here. He’s an amazing
guy. If my parents had supported me the way yours have, I might not be as
messed up as I am.”
“You aren’t messed up. You just need to heal, inside and out.”
He hugged me tight and was quiet for a moment. “You know, there are some
things you’re going to have to think about before Wednesday. I’m sure you’ve
thought about some of them, but I guess now’s as good a time as any to talk
about it.”
“What do you mean, Stephen?”
“Well, when I visited the clinic they gave me a lot of different options about
what I wanted done and how I wanted things to happen. You have thought about
it, haven’t you?”
“Sure, I have, but I was really hoping to talk to you about it before I made
any decisions. I was thinking we could make them together.”
“Do you know who’s going to do the procedure?”
“Dr. Gonzalez.” I was starting to get the old butterflies back as we talked
about the procedure – it was really going to happen.
“He’s very kind and gentle. I’m sure you will like him. He gave me three
options for how far I wanted to go. They could remove my entire penis,
including the internal part, and relocate my urethra. Of course, that’s what I
chose, but the other two options both involved leaving the internal part of
the penis, with or without relocating the urethra. If you decide not to
relocate, they have to leave a small part of the external penis so you can
still pee normally.”
“As far as that goes, I already know I want mine just like yours.”
“Okay, then the next thing you have to decide is how aware you want to be of
the process. I wanted to be under general anesthetic for the whole procedure,
but that was mostly because I was scared of how it would feel to watch. I was
all by myself, and I really thought seeing it would make me freak out. They
offer a wide range of options, though, from a spinal block, to a local, to
twilight, to general. The only thing I asked for was that I wanted to see my
penis one last time after it was done.”
“I think I want to watch, but I’m a little scared of how that would make me
feel. How would you do things if you had it to do over again?”
“To be honest, I don’t know. I was so scared being there alone, going to sleep
knowing when I woke up it would be gone. When I did wake up in recovery, I
freaked out. I think if I had it to do over, I would either be aware of
everything or of nothing: I’d let watching be part of the closure process or
just make a clean break.”
“It’s so hard to decide.”
“You’ve got time, so don’t feel pressure to decide right now.”
“Stephen, if I am awake for it, will you hold my hand?” He swallowed hard.
“Of course, I will, Rob.” I put my head on his shoulder, took his hand in mine
and closed my eyes.
Mom woke me up early to tell me Dad had made the appointment. I was so excited
I couldn’t keep my hands off my dick while I packed up the few things I’d
brought to Orlando. We were going home early, and best of all Rob was having
his dick cut with me! I was even stroking a little bit as I got down on my
knees to check to see if I’d left anything under the bed. Nothing was there,
but it never hurts to check.
I still had a few minutes before Mom was coming to get me, so I walked into
the bathroom to look at myself in the mirror. I kept running my hand over my
nipples as I stroked, but then I had a great idea. Even though my cock was as
hard as it could be, I pulled it down hard and squeezed my legs together tight
to see what I would look like without it. What I saw made the little guy
spring loose, so I decided to go ahead and let him have his fun.
I turned off the light, flipped on the heat lamp, closed my eyes, and started
stroking hard. Before I knew it, my eyes flew open as I wobbled on weak knees.
Three lines of milky liquid were dripping down the mirror, and it was time to
get dressed. Mom would be there soon.
As we were checking out at the front desk, I happened to be watching the
elevators when Sean walked out. He looked just as hot as ever in his tight
t-shirt and swimsuit. He was with his parents, and when he saw me he
immediately looked away and stood between them, almost like he was a little
scared of me. I waved, but he just kept going. Oh well, I couldn’t let a
little thing like that get me down – after all, I was going to get the best
present in the whole world in just a few days.
Before I knew it, we were out on the interstate heading back to the island.
We’d picked up some burgers from Hardees on our way out of town, and I was
sitting in the backseat munching away while Mom listened to one of her books
on tape. I had my iPod turned all the way up to drown out the story about some
middle aged woman having an affair with a pirate. The burger was pretty good,
but I was really scoping out the cars that we passed. There were a lot of
vacationers leaving town that day, and every other car had a hot guy in it.
Every time I saw one I liked I would imagine him fucking me while I rubbed the
empty spot where my cock used to be.
That was when I saw it. The coolest billboard in the world: “Next Exit! Lap-
Dances, All Male Review, Adult Toy Shop.” There was a giant picture of this
young guy in a leather jockstrap serving drinks.
“Mom, quick, take this exit.”
“What on earth?”
“Quick, take this exit. Hurry, don’t miss it.”
“I told you to use the bathroom at the hotel if you thought you were going to
need to go before we get home.” She pulled onto the off ramp, and we slowly
curved around into this intersection with three gas stations and a small non-
descript building with all the windows blacked out. The parking lot was
packed.
“Mom! I don’t have to pee. I want to visit the toy shop.”
“What toy shop? We’ve got a long drive ahead of us, and we want to get back to
Gastern before dark.”
“You didn’t see the sign? There’s a gay toy shop.”
“Brendan, you mean to tell me you made me pull off because you want to go to
an adult sex shop? They’ll never let you go in there. You’re way too young.
What do you want to get, anyway?”
“After being with Sean, I really want to get some dildos and stuff like that.
Especially now that I’m not going to have a penis, I need some way to get
off.”
Mom pulled the car into the parking lot and exasperatedly turned off the
ignition. “We need to have a talk, Brendan.”
“About what, Mom, all I want is a dildo.”
“I don’t mean about that. If you want a dildo, I’ll get you one. There’s
nothing wrong with a boy enjoying every part of his body. I mean we need to
talk about your penectomy.”
“I thought you and Dad already decided I could do it.” I was starting to get
worried.
She turned around and looked at me, and I could tell she was really worried,
too. “We’ve decided to let you do it, but you have to be sure it’s not
something you’re going to regret. It’s obvious, Brendan, that you enjoy sex,
and that’s perfectly natural. It’s also obvious that you have the same urges
that almost every other boy your age has. You get more erections than a rabbit
in springtime. Why is it that you’re so set on having a part of you removed
that brings you so much pleasure?”
“I don’t know. Ever since I first heard Rob and Stephen talking about it, it’s
been all I can think about. It’s so amazing.”
“That’s not a very good answer, Brendan. I know you tend to be more emotional
and impulsive than your brother, but before we let you do something this
permanent, I feel like we have to understand why you want it.”
“Until I was with Sean, it was just something I liked thinking about. Even
when I went to the clinic, I wasn’t really serious. I just wanted to know more
about it. You know, thinking about it makes me so hard. When I was talking to
the doctor about what they do and what it’s like afterward, I started thinking
about my body and what it wanted. You and Dad always tell us that we need to
listen to our bodies and give them what they need. I want to be smooth down
there, and my body wants it, too. That’s why I told Dad I wanted all my junk
taken off.”
“What about being with Sean made you so sure? And what made you change your
mind about castration? I’m worried that if being with him could make you
change your mind, then something else might have the same effect, but if you
decide differently after you’ve had your penectomy, it will be too late to do
anything about it.”
“I’m not going to change my mind. Sean made all the difference. He’s really
the first guy I’ve ever been with all the way. Sure, I’ve fooled around a
little with friends back home, but he was the first person to ever really fuck
me, and he’s the first boy I’ve ever been with who was more grown up.”
“How did that change your feelings?”
“Sean had such a beautiful body. I want a body like that, too, and I can’t
have it if I lose my balls. When I first started thinking about it, I really
wanted to stay like I am now forever, you know, to stay like a boy. Now, I
know I want to grow up and have hair and muscles like Sean.”
“It’s not that simple, Brendan. Even if you were castrated, you could still
take hormone treatments that would let you grow up normally with masculine
characteristics.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. See, there’s a lot you haven’t thought about yet, and I’m
worried that you’re just too young to appreciate what it is that you want to
do.”
“But I really am sure now. You didn’t let me finish.”
“Go ahead.”
“When Sean fucked me, I knew for sure what I wanted. It felt so good to have
him inside me that I realized I wouldn’t miss my dick, that my body was made
to enjoy sex that way.”
“There are many gay and straight men alike who enjoy anal sex. Just because
your prostate can give you pleasure doesn’t mean that your penis should be
removed. Don’t you still want to be able to have pleasure with your penis?”
“You don’t understand, Mom.”
“Help me understand.”
“I don’t know what it’s like for a girl, and I don’t want to be a girl,
either, but for boys your cock is always on. Does that make sense?”
“You mean that your penis is hard to control, that it has a mind of its own,
so to speak?”
“Yeah, I mean I get hard all the time, even when I don’t want to. Sure it
feels good to get off like that, but it feels so much better to get off the
other way.”
“Are you ashamed of your penis or of your erections?”
“No, why should I be ashamed? All boys are like that.”
“You should never be ashamed of your body, and you’re right that almost all
boys experience arousal like you do. I still don’t understand, though. Why not
have anal sex, but keep your penis in case you want to use it later?”
“It’s so hard to explain.”
“You’re doing fine, Brendan. Just keep going. Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“I guess it feels like my cock wants to be removed. My body is trying to tell
me that it doesn’t belong there anymore. Whenever I think about going to the
clinic, I get so hard. That’s my body trying to tell me I’m supposed to be
cut. It’s all I can think about.” I stopped for a minute and thought hard of
some way I could explain it to her. “I watched this show a few weeks ago on TV
about transplants. They were talking about this guy who got the first hand
transplant ever over in France.”
“I remember that story.”
“Yeah, anyway, when he got his new hand, he just felt like it wasn’t a part of
him. He could move it, he could feel with it, he could use it, but it just
didn’t feel like it was his. All he could think about was getting rid of it,
even after all the trouble of getting it attached in the first place.”
“Is that how you feel about your penis?”
“Yeah, that’s exactly how I feel. I mean it feels so good when I touch it and
when I cum, but ever since I started thinking about this stuff I just haven’t
felt like it was mine anymore. It’s still attached, but it’s not part of me.”
Mom was quiet for a long time. I was still scared she was going to tell me I
couldn’t go to the clinic. “I think I understand a little bit better now.
Thank you, Brendan.”
“Anything for you, Mom.” I reached up and gave her a hug.
“Now what did you want from the toy shop exactly?”
“I want a dildo, but I don’t know much about them.”
“I’ll go take a look around.” She went in to the little building, and it
wasn’t but about two minutes before she came back out. I was a little
disappointed because she wasn’t carrying a package, but she walked over to the
car and told me what happened. “I explained to the nice young man in there
that my gay son was interested in picking out a few things, and he said it was
alright for you to come in as long as I’m with you.”
I jumped out of the car, and my heart was pounding as we walked back in
together. I don’t know what I expected, but the shop sure wasn’t it. There
were rows and rows of shelves with videos on them, and some of them were
pretty gross. Others were pretty hot, too, but that’s not what I was looking
for.
The guy behind the counter was about Stephen’s age, but he looked like he
hadn’t washed his hair in a week or two. I didn’t let that stop me, though. I
just walked right up to him. “Where are your dildos?”
“They’re along the far wall, right beyond the viewing rooms.”
I raced down the aisle and almost knocked over this one older guy who was
coming out of the rooms. He looked shocked to see me and almost ran out of the
shop, but before he was out the door I found what I was looking for. The whole
wall was covered with boxes and shrink-wrapped packages of dildos. Some looked
like the real thing, but others were all sorts of weird shapes and colors.
Some were even double ended, and one was the size of my arm.
Mom walked up behind me and put her hand on my shoulder. “Do you see anything
that you like?”
“There are so many.” I grabbed one that sort of reminded me of Sean’s dick. It
was latex and very realistic.
“Maybe you should get several. You never know what kind you’ll like the best,
and it may be a while before you can get another one.”
“Good idea.” I pulled another one down that was a little bit smaller but
vibrated and another one that was vinyl and bigger.
“How about one of these?” Mom showed me a bright blue thing made of silicone.
It was called a butt plug and had a base about three inches across. The shaft
was skinny and about seven inches long, but all the way up there were balls
spaced about an inch apart. Each ball got bigger as they went down the shaft.
“Your Father enjoys this kind.”
“Cool. Let’s get it, then. Four should be enough. If I need something else, we
can always order it off the internet.” As we paid at the counter, several
other customers came and went. Each one of them seemed shocked to see Mom and
me standing there.
By the time we got back out to the car, I was already opening the one that
reminded me of Sean. While Mom cranked up the car and got us back on the
interstate, I played with it. The dildo felt so real – hard on the inside, but
still soft and warm to the touch like skin. I unzipped my shorts and stuck the
fake dick inside so the head was sticking out. After giving it a few strokes,
I imagined I was cutting it off. I pulled it out, and put it on the seat next
to me.
While I looked at it lying there, I pretended it was my cock. Somehow it just
felt so right. I reached into my shorts and began to stroke my real dick, but
thinking back about what I had told Mom I stopped. It wasn’t part of me
anymore, and even though it felt good, jerking off just wasn’t the same. I
zipped back up, put my iPod back on full volume, and smiled. It wouldn’t be
long now until things would be the way they were supposed to be.
The rest of the trip back to the island went in a flash. Before I knew it we
were pulling into the driveway, and Dad was there to give us both a big hug. I
ran inside to show Rob my new toys, but I had almost forgotten that now
Stephen was living with us, too. The two of them were sitting on the couch
together, arms around each other. Rob smiled, but Stephen had a hard time
looking at me for some reason.
“Hey guys.” I gave Rob a hug and shook Stephen’s hand. He looked so
uncomfortable. “Look what Mom got me.” I opened the bag and dumped the toys on
the couch next to them. Rob kind of chuckled as he picked up the butt plug,
but Stephen still looked like he was going to be sick. “Are you okay, Stephen?
Everything healing up good?”
He gave me a half smile. “Yeah, now that I’m with Rob, everything’s going to
be alright.”
“Good, cause all of us were worried about you. Did Rob tell you the big news?”
Rob spoke up. “He knows about our appointment, Bren, but what say let’s talk
about it later?”
“That’s cool. You guys mind if I use the bedroom for a while since you’re out
here?” I was more than a little relieved they didn’t want to talk about it.
I’d already talked about it enough, and I had something else on my mind.
“Sure thing,” Stephen said. “Have fun,” Rob added with a grin.
I scooped up the toys and off I went. As soon as I got the door closed, I had
my shirt and shorts off and was opening the tube of anal lube my Mom had
picked out. I took Sean back out of the bag and started working him against my
hole. My cock was rock hard again, but it didn’t matter. The dildo soon slid
inside me, and I couldn’t help but moan it felt so good.
It was a little hard to get the right angle on the thing with my hand, though,
so I sat on the bed using my own weight to push the latex cock deeper. Before
too long, I figured out I could squeeze it back out with my ass muscles, so I
started riding the corner of the bed. Bouncing on Sean was so intense. My eyes
closed as I started sweating from the workout. I don’t know how much time it
took because I was lost in the sensation, but soon waves of pleasure were
rocking my entire body. I didn’t even bother to try to catch the cum as it
shot out of my cock and onto the dresser.
I slowly pulled Sean out of my hole and started to open the next fake cock.
This felt so good, so right. I couldn’t wait until my dick was gone – then all
I would have to worry about was finding a boy to love so I could have the real
thing inside me again.
* * * |
Crime and Fitting Punishment | DEATH, TESTICLES | Robert is sentenced for his rape of young girls, and pays a painful price for his pleasure | ` The year is 2321 and the place the former site of New York City now called
the Conformation Zone. The conformation zone is about the same size as the old
city of New York, and many of the buildings used by the controlers were once
part of that great metropolis. The streets are quiet now compared to then
however, as cars and trucks that clogged the streets in the 21st century have
been long replaced by particle dispersal delivery systems and reconstitution
devises.`
Mostly quiet but by no means peaceful, the conformation zone is where the
devients of the society are sent to be adjusted. Adjustments for minor
infractions can be handled at the local level in small confinement areas once
called prisons, but the majority of crimes and social abarations of a sexual
nature are managed here where the facilities are segregated by treatment, and
the inmates are handled by a combination of pleasure and pain. That is until
their sentence is fully determined by the conformation court and
rehabilitation begins.
The lower court may rule that a crime committed is such that minor
readjustment at the local level will not likely work for the long term, and
the society leaders have determined that there will be no repeat offenders.
Cases beyond the local correction officials abilities are delivered to the
conformation zone, and a second court reviews the case and passes final
judgement and determins appropriate treatment. Soft treatment of criminals and
devients in the previous 400 years had proven that those treated gently will
return to the crimes from which they were believed to be reformed. Since each
offence is costly to correct, each offender must be rehabilitatated on the
first try for there is no second chance here.
Robert had only heard of the conformation zone, as had most people until they
were sentenced by the lower courts to report here. The gates are located where
the George Washington Bridge once stood, that structure long since having been
replaced by a modern delivery system that transports people and products in
their atomic form from the disassembly pad to their destination. There are no
bridges across the waterways as there were in the old days, and in 2220 the
great seperation had been made by digging a mile wide trench between the
northern end of the zone and the mainland, making the zone an island. Shortly
after the great seperation two convicts swam out of the zone causing the
installation of an electronic boundary system to be installed. Computer and
satilite controlled, no member of the zone need be confined before their final
sentencing for once in the zone there is no way out aside from the delivery
system in correction central... and that is not available to inmates.
Robert, convicted by the lower courts of crimes against pubecent females was
ordered to report to the gates on the first day of June for delivery into the
zone. Roberts correction procedure had not been determined. That would be
taken care of once inside of the zone and his correction would be carried out
without appeal.
Robert stood at the entrance to his future facing not prison guards, but two
lovely teenage girls, sparking eyes chearful voices so out of place here at
the portal of the law. They were both about the same height, about 5 feet 5
inches tall with blond hair and pretty blue eyes. One who introduced herself
as Jessica seemed to be the more expieranced of the two, instructing the
second in the registration procedures and in moving a new arrival in. Jessica
with a captivating smile and a casual flip of her smooth shoulder-length hair
asked "Robert, what is the crime for which you have been sent here?" Robert,
slightly embarrased at having to speak with these girls similar in age to the
girls he had offended reported his crime and received knowing smiles and
snickers in response. "And what offence-scale number was your case assigned?"
17 reported Robert. Both girls looked up with looks of compassion mixed with
disgust. The offence-scale used to determine where a convict would be
conformed ranged from 1 to 20 with all offences above 7 being sent to the
zone. Jessica had seen others come with a score of 17, but never saw one
leave.
"Please step on this spot" instructed the supple young lady assisting Jessica
with the registration, taking Robert by the hand and guiding him to a black
circle on the floor of a machine with a console attached to the right side.
Once inside, Jessica smiled, handed him a transponder with his information
recored on it, and pressed the energize button. A fraction of a second later
Robert was reassembled in correction central within the zone.
Before him sat 9 judges, the conformation court. "I thought I would be called
for when my number came up" said Robert to the woman standing nearest to him
who appeared to be official in some capacity. "You were rated above 15 so
there is no acclimation period for you, you will be sentenced immediately to
corrective measures" she said with a hint of a smile. Robert looked across the
line of judges facing him, all were younger then he had imagined they would
be, most hardly older then 20 years he guessed, but serious in demeaner and
studying the digital screens before them on the long table behind which they
sat. After a time, the judge in the center, a girl of perhaps 19 raised her
eyes and looked him up and down slowly. "You will be given no opportunity to
speak, you will be sentenced when this court has determined the degree of
rehabilitation possible, and you will be delivered to your fate. Should you
resist you will wish yourself never having been born"
Robert stood there silently, watching the people before him discuss his fate
in low mumbles that he could not clearly hear. They were wrestling with some
aspect of his adjustment. Straining to hear he could only pick out a word now
and again and few did he like. Finally, the girl who had spoken before stood
and said "sentence determined and so shall it be done" and nodded to the lady
standing near to him. "But what is my sentence?" Robert yelled, but the court
simply watched as he was taken by strong arms and the lady and lead away.
He was taken to an old building with brick walls and lovely detailing from the
19th century and placed in a room with a table but no windows to look out of
or chairs to sit in. The wall nearest the table was painted gray and in the
middle was a panel with digital screens and connections for various types of
equipment. Robert examined this panel for a moment in the hopes that it would
give him some clue as to his correction that was apparently to occur soon.
After what must have been several hours of examining the room for clues to its
use a man opened the door and entered, closing and locking the door behind
him. "You are to be prepared for your sentence now" he said, "remove all of
your clothing please." Robert stared at the elderly man for a moment and then
asked "just what is going to happen here?" With a smile and pat on the
shoulder, he was told he was to be satisfied with his sexual choices and would
never more feel a need to rape young girls. Robert slowly began to undress.
Naked Robert was told to lay face up on the table and his hands and legs were
strapped down so that he was unable to rise or to move off of the hard
surface. Once fully secured, the old man opened the door once again and
brought in a cart with what appeared to be medical equipment and began to
attach devises to the connectors in the wall, sitting each machine on the
table next to Robert. They were not machines he had seen before. The largest
of them was shaped like a helmet with a chin strap and had several shiny discs
fixed to the inner surface. From the top a cable containing several wires was
attached to the wall below one of the digital screens that now were beginning
to glow the blueish color of computers since they were invented. The use of
the other equipment was less easily deternined, one devise shaped like an
antique icecream scoop with a lid and a hole in the end was attached to the
wall, as was a long cylinder made of shining metal and fixed with a handle at
one end. The other end was hollow except for a slender wire that was centered
in the middle of the opening. Robert could not tell what was inside of the
cylinder for the darkness prevented it, but he could see antenne attached to
it near the handle and that told him it was not simply mechanical.
When the equipment was readied, the old man left and into the room came a
group of 12 girls aged 14 to 16, each was dressed in a bathrobe and they stood
quietly in a line looking at the criminal on the table. Robert was unable to
control the slow engorgement of his penis which responded to the nearness of
the supple young female forms. From the doorway he heard someone speak and
looking away from the youngsters he saw the chief judge who had pronounced his
deliverence to this table only hours before. She walked to him and stood at
his feet, her eyes examining the body before her. "You appear to be interested
in the young ladies" she stated flately, "good, for you will have your fill. I
will now tell you your sentence, you are to die by electromagnetic disruption
by your own hand, the result of continual intercourse coupled with testicular
rupture." With that, the first girl in the line, a pretty redhead of about 14
removed her bathrobe and walked to the head of the table, picking up the
helmet shaped object she placed it onto Roberts head and affixed the chin
strap. "This devise will monitor your thoughts and with each thought of
pleasure will cause the testicular rupture devise to activate for 2 seconds.
Each time it is activated, 1200 needles will be moved toward your testicles
1/100th of an inch, eventually penetrating your scrotum and turning your
beloved balls to sauce." She smiled and nodded to the redhead who now came to
the side of the table and picked up the strange icecream scoop object in one
hand and gently massaged his balls with the other. "Monica is very skilled at
positioning this devise, and I did not tell you, you will be unable to lose
your erection because of the stimulation delivered to your brain." Monica
genltly tugged on Roberts balls stretching them from his body till she had
caused them to fully relax, then with deft fingers she placed his scrotum in
the rupture devise and gently closed the lid, two little screws secured the
devise so that his balls were fully inside and his penis lay against his
belly, erect and ready.
With that Monica pulled two small steps from below the table and climbed them,
straddling Robert she smiled a knowing smile that only a teenager in heat can
smile, and with her left hand raised his penis to vertical...... her labia
were moist and swollen and only an inch from his penis when he heard the quiet
clicking of the devise between his legs..... 1,2,3,4,5 clicks.... what was
that, Monica lowered herself onto him.... click...click..."Ouch!" Robert
jerked away but only drove himself more deeply into Monica. The clicking he
now knew were the needles being racheted closer to his precious manhood and he
had just wasted 8 clicks. Monica smiled and began to grind her pussy against
his pubic bone, squeezing him in her belly, leaning forward to let him reach
her breasts, small and firm, in hopes of giving him pleasure. Robert straining
to close his eyes realized that the Judge standing by the consoles was
manipulating the signals coming through his helmet and she had denied him the
right to look away or close his eyes. Click!....Monica smiled again and with a
whisper said "today you will give me a baby, for this is my punishment for
taking birth control...." and she ground against him more urgently. Robert
straining to not feel what he was feeling knew he was losing as the feeling of
her warm tunnel sucking at his manhood became too much..... he began to thrust
at her, hearing the click with each thrust and wishing he could stop the rush
that was building......Needles touched his scrotum on three sides now and the
painful pricks caused him to pull away from them as though he really could.
With each pull, Monica could feel him going deeply into her as he tried to
avoid the needles, and with each thrust his mind betrayed him and caused
another click to occur....
He ejaculated into Monica, feeling wonderful sexual release while at the same
time counting 8 more clicks and feeling the needles in the rupture devise now
touching his balls on all sides....Monica rose from him, and took the tubular
devise and with one deft stroke slid the cylinder over his wet penis and the
central electrode down its length inside of him. With a smile the Judge said
"now isn't this a fine way to be conformed to the law? If you wish, you can
pull the trigger on that little devise simply by thinking unkind thoughts
about my girls here and you will find that the electrode will heat up and cook
your penis and boil your balls in their own jucies.."
Monica had returned to the line with her robe replaced and the next girl, a
well developed blond named Sue climbed the steps to take her place. She took
the handle of the penis probe and slipped it from Robert and set it aside. She
stroked his penis gently with her hands feeling its firmness and length,
smiling at him as she took her place above him..... Click... Robert jerked at
the pricks that were now becoming painful and distracting.... Sue lowered
herself till her labia touched his penis, and hovered there, feeling him press
against her, about to fulfil her her own sentence of pregnancy by providing
him with pleasure he didnt want. She slid onto him....his penis stretching her
inner body to conform to its shape, her sheath forming around him and
pleasuring him... click, click... searing pain shot through Roberts left
testicle.... she rose up and settled again.... her breasts over his mouth,
"suck me please while we do this?" she asked.... Click! Robert jerked away
from his prison between his legs but could no longer find releaf, driving into
Sue he could feel the friction beginning to take its toll on him again and the
boiling of his sperm was beginning to rise. "think dull thoughts" he was
saying to himself, but how could he think dull thought with a 15 year old
begging to be impregnated, riding his penis, and dangling her breasts in front
of his tongue... click click click.
He screamed.... incohearant no word screaming of a man whos testicles are
being pierced by a raft of firy darts yet his penis was on the virge of
eruption and the combination of pain and pleasure pushed him beyond
endurance..... The surge of semen into Sue was sufficient to deliver into her
waiting belly 80,000 sperm and to collect for Robert 7 more clicks and
excruciating pain. Sue slipped off of him and replaced the probe in his penis
with a smile and a kiss.
As the initial pain subsided a bit Robert looked around the room, the Judge
taking notes on a clipboard, Monica and Sue were filling out the impregnation
forms provided to each girl, and 10 more girls stood quietly in line each
waiting her turn. Those at the end of the line were mearly spectators, for no
man had yet survived 12 girls so they knew their chances of impregnation were
very small today. Perhaps tomorrow if there was another rape convict.
With a nod from the Judge girl number 3 disrobed, small and dark, her breasts
not even showing aside from her darkened nipples and walked to the table. She
smiled and itroduced herself as Anja and mounted the stairs. Without ceremony
she pulled the electrode from Robert and mounted him, driving him into her
full length on the first thrust, he groaned... Click click and screamed......
Anja rose off of him and scowled as his penis smacked against his belly, you
dont like me she asserted as she reached down and grasped his organ and
replaced the electrode and turned a switch on its side. Immediately the devise
began to hum a low quiet tone and Robert felt the inner sheath begin to grip
his penis as something inside of the devise swelled. Lets see what you like
and dont like she said as she switched to face his feet and pressed her pussy
against his mouth..... with a smile she took the handle of the penis probe and
began to gently rotate the devise sending waves of wonderful sensation through
Robert click! he bit down, Anja screamed and yanked away from his mouth and in
the same motion twisted the nob on the penis probe causing it to rise in
volume and constrict violently! "You basterd!" she screamed as she grabbed her
injured pussy and struggled off of the table. Robert had his own problems, his
balls were now fully penetrated so that every movement caused unbearable pain,
and his penis was captured in a devise that was now throbbing out of
control..... swelling and rolling feelings much like would be felt were his
penis in a someones mouth, but another feeling was there too, his anger at
Anja and his pain was enough to initiate his final sentence.
Turning from her digital readouts, the Judge said to the remaining young
girls, "you may be dismissed, he has entered final fulfillment of his sentence
now and there will be no more babies to be gotten here today". Turning to
Robert, "you have thought ill of one of my girls for her first attempts at
being a woman, now you will cease to be a man for having thought that way,
your anger has fired the penile probe and there is no calling it back now for
it will communicate with the testicular rupture devise and they will destroy
your organs as they have begun to do, so shall they finish..." She smiled as
she noted the time and checked off boxes on her clipboard. Robert strained
against his bonds but to no avail, his testicles now fired by the pain of
thousands of needles driven through them caused him to scream and writhe but
it was the building fire in his penis that would ultimately kill him.... The
electrode warmed by his anger began first to produce a low heat, but once
started it was under no other control then the execution computer and at T-5
minutes it sent signals to the testicular rupture devise to complete its task
and begin the heat cycle too..... for Robert it was too much..... his penis
smoked while the devise hummed and pumped him like some desperate vagina......
the rupturer screwed its probes deeper into his once precious testes until the
needles met and closed the electrical circut and his remaining sperm, destined
at first for Anjas belly, boiled while Robert writhed and slowly died.
The newspaper carried a one line note, among many other such notes on the
second day of June that said Convict R. ------- failed to complete
conformation training... followed by Jessica ------- and Sue --------
successfully completed their conformation training and will be released
pending medical approval.
* * * |
Clitoridectomy Support Group 12 Christine's torment | Christine goes from the frying pan into the fire. She is forced into oral sex and then tortured by other women. | Christine looked down at each step as she slowly made her way down the steps
from the centre. At the bottom a woman in a khaki safari suit accosted her.
Christine looked up at the woman. She was about two inches taller than
Christine, but had medium heels, which gave her four inch advantage. Her lips
were bright red with lipstick. Her dark hair was very curly. The lack of
wrinkles round her brown eyes showed she can not have been beyond her mid
twenties.
'You're Christne?' she said half in statement half in question.
'Yes, what do want?' replied the woman.
'Zoë and her friends would like to see you.'
'Now?'
'Yes, if its convenient.'
Christine looked at her and thought that she might as well expose herself
twice in one day as once.
She got in the car beside the young woman.
After tortuous negotion of the Cairo traffic, they entered an alley. The car
stopped. This was not a Western part of town. All the windows in the street
were shuttered.
'They're through the door over there,' said the driver, pointing to a wooden
door up three steps in a three storey building.
Christine hesitated, then got out, taking care to lift her jelaba as she got
out of the car. She walked up to the door and knocked. There was no response.
She then pushed it and it opened. Inside was a gloomy hallway. Christine
looked back: the car had gone.
At first it was difficult to see. Then she heard a female voice tell her in
Arabic, 'Your friends are in the main hall.' Christine could just discern a
woman sitting on a stool in one of the recesses. She was dressed in black or
at least very dark clothes. Her head was covered, and her face was in shadow.
Christine walked on and pushed the large door in front of her. It openned into
a large room lit from eight skylights high up in the roof. There were four
women stood in front of her. The room was brighter than the hallway, but she
still had difficulty making out details. All were dressed in long dresses,
that reached the floor. However they were not the shapeless jelaba; these were
waisted and buttoned down the front. Even as she began to focus better, she
did not recognise any of them.
The door clanged shut behind her.
'Where's Zoë?' Christine asked.
The woman on the left of the four said in a contralto voice, 'She'll be along
later. We are her representatives. If we like what we see, we may even join
her.'
Christine spirit lifted. She may not just be getting to do Zoë. There might be
others.
'Time for us to examine you,' said the contralto.
It was the second time that day, but this might bring her a reward. Anyway as
she did not know the women, it mattered less. Nevertheless, Christine
hesitated.
Christine put her bag down, then bent down to unfasten her sandals. She
stepped out of them. She then pulled her jelaba over her head. On of the women
came forward to take it. Christine was now just in her slip. The woman
motioned for her to give it to her as well. Christine pulled this over her
head and passed it over.
She was now naked in front of the four women.
‘You are as neat as a boy,’ the contralto voice intoned, ‘You have nice tight
hips and no breasts.’
‘No, she’s more like a eunuch,’ came a voice from behind her. Christine’s arms
were grabbed from behind and she was pulled downwards and backwards. To steady
herself Christine parted her legs, but no amount of pulling and struggling
could free her arms..
Philomena’s red curls framed her head, which now looked down on Christine’s
upturned face.
‘So we meet again. But under different circumstances. This time, I have the
advantage of you.’
Christine redoubled her efforts to free her arms, but to no avail. Philomena
was a good deal bigger and stronger than her and had her well pinioned. She
quickly strapped her wrists together.
Two of the women grabbed Christine’s already parted knees and held them apart.
“ I think the others should see what has been done to you. After all you did
agree to them checking you out.’
Two women pulled her legs wide apart until she grimaced. A third woman picked
up a bowl of water and cloth and washed Christine between the legs.
‘Now let’s see what you’ve got, or rather you haven’t,’ said the contralto.
She came forward and pulled Christine’s labia roughly apart.
After a moment or two of poking, she said, ‘Wow, there’s nothing there.’ I
don’t think you’ve ever had a clitoris. I can’t see any sign.’
She fingered around some more, as Christine writhed.
‘No, absolutely nothing here.’
All the women crowded round and took it in turns to poke between her labia.
However none of them relaxed her grip enough to let Christine get free. The
straps around her wrists were pulled tighter. Then she was let go.
She stood in front of the group naked with her hands bound behind her back.
‘What do you want of me?’ she asked.
‘We are going to show you it is much better to give pleasure than to deprive
women of it, ‘ said Philomena. ‘You are going to perform cunnilingus with all
of us.’
Christine struggled with her arms but could not free them.
‘On your knees!’
Christine shook her head.
‘If you won’t do it willingly, we’ll force you.’
Philomena and the contralto grabbed Christine pushing her on her knees. The
red head pulled Christine back by the shoulders and then the head. The
contralto pulled her garments over head.
Christine stared upwards at the woman’s open sex. She could see her parted
labia and protruding clitoris.
‘Don’t bite or we’ll pull your teeth out.’ Philomena thrust Christines face
into the contralto’s pussy.
‘Just lick!’
Christine tried to pull her head away and then to one side. Philomena held her
head tightly and pushed her mouth to the contralto’s open labia, until she was
kissing them. She had to squint to see the woman’s clitoris.
‘I think she’s a beginner!’
It was her first experience of oral sex. She was conscious of the other three
women watching. Well she would give them a show now and get her revenge later.
She stuck her tongue and licked the tip of the clitoris.
‘Good girl,’ she heard.
She continued to lick and then kiss and suck. She could feel the contralto
begin to quiver.
‘She seems to know what she is doing, ‘ she heard one of them mutter. ‘Maybe
she’s a natural.’
Minutes passed and then more minutes. The contralto’s quivers got stronger and
suddenly she felt her pull away. She looked up and saw the naked woman step
back and prop herself against a stool. There was a winsome smile on her face.
Philomena’s hands still held her head, and she said, ‘Next!’
The other three stripped and presented themselves. Christine got the closest
views of their sexes. After the contralto’s medium sized clitoris and labia,
came the smallest woman with off blonde hair and small breasts. Her clitoris
seemed miniscule and Christine could simply lick; there seemed not enough to
suck. But she came after only a couple of minutes.
So it proceded with the next two. The last seemed to take an age to come. Her
tongue was getting tired. Christine remembered she had excessively large inner
labia, which flapped in her face.
‘Now it’s my turn,’ Philomena said, ‘Who’s going to hold her?’ She let go of
Christine’s head, who was able to right herself and look round. She remained
on her knees as Philomena moved in front of her and stripped. Her curly red
hair was matched between her legs.
The contralto pulled Christine’s head back, but not as far as for the others.
Philomena had long muscular legs and stood arrogantly in front of her. Her
labia were hardly parted but when Christine thrust her tongue between them she
encountered her large firm clitoris. It was a broad shaft. Christine licked
round it and resisted the temptation to bite. She thought of a more exquisite
excision as she moved her tongue around. She looked forward to dangling it
around her neck in locket. She lost herself in fantasy as her tongue continued
to carress Philomena’s clitoris. She did not notice that her head was no
longer held.
Suddenly, Philomena jerked and grabbed her head pushing it deep between her
labia. She held it there and thrust at it. Philomena had come. The other women
clapped.
‘That was a good show,’ said one of them.
The redhead stepped back leaving Christine kneeling in the middle of the five
women. She got to her feet. One of the women took some tissues and wiped her
face, which was smeared with her own saliva and their lubrication.
The contralto then put her hands between Christine’s legs and said, ‘You’re as
wet as any of us. You’ve been enjoying yourself as much as we have.’
‘Not as much as I will,’ replied Christine.
‘So we have not persuaded you that giving pleasure is better than giving
pain.’
‘Perhaps I now know that pleasure before makes the pain afterwards more
exquisite.’
‘So you’re not going to stop searching for clitorises to excise.’
‘Oh no. I’m really looking forwarded to yours.’
‘Well then if pleasure won’t stop you, perhaps pain might.’
Christine looked from one face to the next. What were they going to do?
The slight one said, ‘It is a pity to waste all that lubrication. I’m going to
try her for size.’
Philomena grapped Christine by the shoulders and two others grabbed each knee,
pulling her legs wide apart again. Christine struggled, but to no avail. Her
head rested on the floor.
‘Let’s see how big I can make her,’ said the slight blonde. She stepped
between Christine’s legs and put her fingers into her vagina. She used both
hands to pull it as wide open as she could.
‘She’s really quite small. I don’t think there’s been much action down here.’
Another said, ‘What man would bother. She can’t respond.’
‘We’ll see.’
The blonde’s small hands forced their way into her. She then took one out and
balled the other into a fist. She thrust this deep into Christine, who winced
and struggled.
‘I don’t think she’s ever had this experience. It’s her first fist fucking.’
One after another, they took it in turns. Each time a bigger hand moved inside
her.
It went on and on. Four women held her knees wide apart, while the fifth
rammed her fist inside her.
Eventually they tired. Christine was dropped to the floor.
The five pulled on their clothes.
“Let’s go,’ one said.
“What about her,’ replied another pointing to Christine lying on the floor,
her wrists still bound and her legs wide apart.
‘Leave the circumcising bitch to get out of it herself. Either she will or the
cleaners will find her in a day or two.’
Christine lay on the floor. She was exhaused, bruised and torn. But she would
have her revenge.
* * * |
|
Traitor Slave | NULLIFICATION, Other: Death By Impalement | you're just gonna have to read it. | "Put him to the pike. This worthless traitor shall know pain before
he dies the death of a worthless slave. The sentence is death by
impalement and nullification. Take him to his death." The overseer
said.
Two eunuchs dragged the struggling slave to the place of his death.
The only thing he had really done was to have sex without his
owner's permission. Ordinarily that wouldn't have been a problem
but with all the problems in the other provinces, owners, masters,
and overseers were cracking down on their slaves. Most offenses
only required a beating or a simple castration. Some offenses
however required a slave be put to death, and the method was
usually left up to the owners. This particular slave owner was
particularly sadistic and loved to inflict pain on anyone he could
get his hands on. He would find the most painful way to torture and
kill a slave and take unusual delight in demonstrating the
technique to anyone that wanted to watch.
This slave was one of a dozen that was going to die this day and
each had his own pike just waiting to be driven into his anus. The
two eunuchs dragged him up the path to the top of the metal
platform and held him fast as several other slaves raised the pike
into place and secured it fast to its place. Four other eunuchs
picked up the condemned slave by his arms and legs. The original
two parted the condemned slave's asscheeks and they raised him over
the point of the pike.
"Do you have any last words before you die, slave?" the overseer
asked, not really expecting an answer and he didn't get one.
He signaled for the eunuchs to lower the slave onto the pike,
slowly. The eunuchs raised and lowered the slave several times
causing him to get hard. His cock was pointing straight out by the
time his feet touched the trap door. The overseer and his favorite
slave approached the piked slave. The overseer had the gelding
knife in his hand and his pet slave had a hot poker. The overseer
took hold of the slave's cock and balls with one hand and with the
other, slowly sliced through the base of the shaft and ball sack.
Once both organs were in hand the other slave shoved the hot poker
into the bleeding wound and the blood stopped. The slave howled in
agony as the trap door fell away and he slid down a full body
length then stopped.
The pike was deep inside him now and blood was slowly oozing from
his anus. It was ten minutes of screaming and moaning before the
next trap door opened. This happened several times until the point
of the pike appeared in the slave's mouth then slid out above his
head and his body stopped falling.
"Take him to the cook pits. The master shall dine well tonight.
Bring the next one." The overseer said.
Eleven other slaves met their death on the pike and on the cook
fires for the master and his guests.
THE END!! |
Gnorrid the Warrioress - Background Fantasy - Long - 3 of 4 | STRAIGHT, PENECTOMY, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION, MINOR | Continued from Part 2 | ` Gnorrid the Warrioress - Background Fantasy - Long - 3 of 4 `
The Age of Empire
After the defeat of the desert invaders the Regency enjoyed a golden age of
approximately two centuries before it began to collapse and break apart. This
golden age was sometimes referred to as the Age of Empire.
After the declaration of the exclusive primacy of Dhradumus the few surviving
priestesses attempted to hide among the general populace. Many were
discovered, turned in, and executed by the Regency (often by burning or other
horrible means). Even for those who remained successfully hidden, the new
rules imposed by the priests of Dhradumus made it extremely difficult to pass
on teachings and knowledge to another generation of underground priestesses.
Women were not to be taught reading or writing or allowed to work in any save
the most menial labor. A woman discovered to possess skills of literacy would
be put to death - after a period of torture to ascertain who had taught her
and whom she may have taught.
The surviving priestesses hid themselves as best they could. Some remained in
the cities and some went to dwell among the peasants. More than a few families
risked their lives by discreetly taking in fleeing priestesses as servants. It
was here, however, that much secret knowledge was passed on the daughters and
even the sons of these families.
One stronghold of underground priestesses was the profession of midwives. A
most necessary function, men found it quite unpleasant and were more than
happy to turn this duty over to women. Looked upon with distrustful scrutiny,
men had little choice but to tolerate them.
Although the installment of Dhradumus as the one and only god in the Regency
was hailed as a great day among men, this sentiment was by no means universal.
Secret brotherhoods and fraternal orders sprang up. (Many were started by
surviving eunuchs who had served the priestesses.) It was easier for men to
pass on their knowledge as literacy was not forbidden for men, and many
intellectual pursuits were open to them. Also, such orders became clever at
disguising the ancient knowledge of the Sisterhood in terms and symbols that
were compatible with the worship of Dhradumus. It is said that there were even
Dhradumian priests, officiators at public rituals and held in high esteem by
the Regency, who were secret worshipers of the Goddess and curators of her
ancient knowledge.
In public buildings and statuary all artwork reminiscent of the Sisterhood and
their Goddess was destroyed. Gone were the gala festivals presented by the
priestesses on the great feast days. In their place were great somber
gatherings. Statues of Dhradumus now frowned down upon throngs of groveling
followers in the streets and city squares. Subdued and dutiful, the worshipers
dressed in dark cloaks, robes and hoods, concealing as much flesh as possible.
Dhradumus was usually depicted wearing the traditional garb of the patriarchal
nomadic herdsman. With a full beard, Dhradumus held a scepter in one hand and
a sword in the other. The scowl of Dhradumus was said to send a cold chill
down the spine of the bravest of men. He was the ultimate symbol of male
authority and dominion.
Gone were the wonderful athletic contests and exhibitions where naked or
scantily-clad oiled bodies of young priestesses inspired crowds with their
beauty. Exposed flesh was now greatly restricted among men and absolutely
forbidden for women. Women were no longer allowed to appear in public without
their heads covered and their faces veiled. No more did men and boys
congregate in the market places on warm days just to enjoy the grand show of
young women dressed in short skirts, thongs, and skimpy halters scurrying
among the vendors. Now women could not share as much as a smile with the
world.
Girls were the property of their families until they came of age. Then they
were transferred to a master, either through marriage or other consignment,
and became his property. There were no independent women in the Regency. That
social classification simply did not exist.
Concubines and courtesans who once enjoyed a respectable place in society,
were now mere property of their masters. Harems of concubines were often
nothing more than private brothels where wealthy noblemen entertained and
rewarded their friends by letting them sleep with picks from their harems.
Prostitution per se was strictly forbidden, however, and punishable by burning
or stoning. Free roaming prostitutes in the streets would potentially open the
possibility for a woman to gain some semblance independence. Pursuit and
patronage of whores would be an admission that women could hold power over a
man by cultivating his lust. Women were to be purchased, not employed.
Dhradumian theology asserted that women were temptresses and seducers of men.
Women inspired men to think unwholesome and unclean thoughts, and were the
primary cause of men being led astray from the will of Dhradumus. In
Dhradumian society women had to be strictly contained and controlled.
During the chaos of the conflagrations and razing of the temples it is said
that some groups of priestesses escaped the Regency altogether and
reestablished themselves in lands far beyond the known world. Centuries after
the collapse of the Regency travelers from the wilderness would occasionally
bring tales of matriarchal "kingdoms" guarded by fierce female warriors.
Although such stories were generally given little credence, on more than one
occasion Dhradumian leaders organized military expeditions to seek out and
destroy such enclaves. For centuries they found nothing.
Continued in Part 4
* * * |
The Simon Compendium Updated V6.1 | BI, TESTICLES, MINOR, circumcision; enemas | The updated Simon Compendium, V6.1. Based upon characters created by C van D, compiled by Paolo. A complete guide to everyone's favorite British boy-eunuch and his many adventures. | ` The Simon Compendium
|
**_ The Simon Scott Compendium-
A Story of a Boy-Eunuch & His Adventures.
V6.1_** _
_
**1850 – Archibald Scott** , textile maker, moves from Yorkshire and prospers,
setting the stage for the Scott fortunes. He dies in **1903** , leaving 6 sons
and 5 daughters.
**Intermarrying** turns the **Scott Family Tree** into a maze.
**The Scott Family** adopts the practice of sending “the fool of the family”
into the service of the Church. This happens 3 times: **Jabez Scott, Adolphus
Scott and Tom Scott** are the 3.
**Carl Scott, uncle of Simon –** is considered head of the senior branch.
**Max Riche,** born of a Scott daughter, at some point in his adult life is
assigned to secretive career work as a “Fixer”. His interest in young Chinese
boys is a factor in this.
**Birth-Age 10 – Simon Scott resides in Cape Town, RSA.** He is born there. He
is an only-child. Simon’s parents are **Tom & Peggy Scott**. Tom is one those
“family fools” who is sent off for church work. Peggy is described as a fat
farmer’s daughter.
**Age unknown – childhood –** Simon has his tonsils taken out.
Simon’s native nurse, a Cape Town native named **Fannie** , gives him an enema
_every day_ to make him go when SHE wants him to, and to avoid accidents in
public. He also receives one each night at bedtime. Fannie uses warm water and
soap.
Simon’s parents don’t seem to have much time for him, spending most of their
time on missions “up north”.
**Colin Hislop** comes down with the mumps, which effectively neuters him.
(Conjectured from facts given by Simon.) **Colin** has a little brother,
**Calum** , who is also a eunuch. Reasons unknown. We later find that the
mumps got **Calum** , too.
**Age 8-9? –** Simon gets **circumcised,** but not much - just the tip - to
keep him from “fiddling with it”. Method unknown; it’s not much of a cut.
Simon still fiddles with it. It’s unclear exactly when he is circumcised, but
he is fully healed by the time he arrives in England.
**Age 10 –** approximately – Simon comes to England from Cape Town, South
Africa. Jennifer Saunderson, his “aunt”, picks the boy and his meager luggage
up at **Heathrow.** The luggage is misplaced after an 11 hour flight on South
African Airways.
Simon is labeled “unattractive” by Uncle Carl the first time the man sees him.
No one seems to want him. The description of the boy by his parents is
obviously false.
Simon goes to live with the **Saundersons, Jennifer and Malcolm** , close
relatives of Carl and the distant cousins of Simon. Their three children are
**Sue** , 13; **Vikki** , 10; **Charlie** , 7. The Saunderson children go nude
during warm weather. Nothing else is known of Charlie or Vikki, but Sue is a
slut.
Simon and Charlie share baths and a room, each having his own twin bed.
Simon meets his Uncle Carl in person for the first time; Carl thinks that the
boy’s genitals would not be out of place on a toddler. Simon’s loose shorts
afford Carl a peek.
Simon is accused of not wiping properly and not taking care of his laundry. He
is moody, lazy, dirty, and overall unpleasant.
**Aunt Jennifer** refuses to give Simon his _daily and nighttime_ **enemas,**
telling him to go when he has to like everyone else. As Simon has never had to
deal with bowel urges before, this could explain the state of his underwear.
Simon never mentions enemas to her again. He will not receive routine enemas
again until boarding school.
Uncle Carl is a worldly man with expensive tastes and obviously, the money to
back them up! He likes good suits and fancy cars. He is about to trade up to a
Jaguar. The Jag is later traded for a gun-metal gray Aston-Martin.
We learn that Carl’s surname is **Scott** , just like Simon’s.
**Mark Maitland** , Simon's future best friend, begins to study castration and
eunuchs at this time. By age 11-12, he will have his balls pricked as well.
**Manchit Khannah** , living in **India** , up-country **Andhra Pradesh** ,
near **Secunderabad** , is sent to be a temple Acolyte. He is castrated via a
horsehair tourniquet tied around his scrotum, which causes him to become a
eunuch. Once his testicles have withered, they are chopped off. He will later
come to England to become one of Simon's closest friends and a fast bowler.
**Manchit** 's native tongue is ' **Telugu** '.
**The Roebuck Twins, Jon and Jamie** , are living in an orphanage in a Gulf
State, approximately one year away from being neutered. Boys in orphans' homes
in this state are routinely neutered if not claimed/adopted by age 12 or
adopted after 7 years in custody of the State.
At some point in time, perhaps earlier, **Carl Scott** is in the area of
**India** where **Manchit** lives and learns the language.
Simon begins to realize that people might want to see his body for some
reason.
Upon his arrival, Simon is said (by his parents) to be bright and can sing. He
should easily get scholarships to school. Simon starts school locally.
Entrance exams for school show Simon to be “dumb” and he can’t sing a note.
The Saundersons are out thousands in school fees. ** Canon Barker **at the
school shows Jennifer Simon’s dismal test results, yet the boy is admitted.
**Simon** gets placed in Form 2C.
Uncle Carl begins to entertain the notion that a “couple of snips” would be
good for Simon.
**Simon’s parents** , **Tom & Peggy,** vanish from human ken after abandoning
him to the Saundersons.
Simon settles in to boarding school, but doesn’t seem to care much about it.
School is viewed as being at least something keeping him out of their way, for
the Saundersons. Jennifer will later admit it as worth the money, as Simon
blows up a lawnmower and a vacuum cleaner on the same day that summer.
Simon’s school buddy, **Ekins** , tells Simon about young junior boys being
used as bum-boys by the senior boys. Simon becomes the “flower” of **Ramsay**
, the Prefect, and captain of football. Ramsay genuinely likes him, and buys
him gifts including cream teas, sweets, and a fancy ink pen. He never hurts
him, and Simon comes to enjoy their conjugal visits. These always take place
on Sunday, right after Matron’s enema sessions. They usually bike it to a
deserted old house.
Despite being used as Ramsay’s bum-boy for the whole term, Simon never has an
orgasm. ** Ekins **suggests that all that buggering will allow Simon to “pass
tree trunks”; Simon experiences no adverse rectal effects, though.
Simon and some friends discuss castration at school one day, on the field. It
is very interesting. **Ekins** , nor any of the other boys, appear to be
neutered, but claim to know boys who are and what it does to them.
Simon is very glad to meet his “Uncle” Max on winter holidays at the
Saundersons. Max is Carl’s brother-in-law, and buys Simon several toys. One of
the toys is a fancy model electric train. Simon seduces him; he will later
come to regret this. His penis is about 3 cm. with most of it being loose skin
only.
Max is also a well traveled and worldly man. He is quite the mystery.
Uncle Max sodomizes Simon at the boy’s insistence, as well as doing oral on
him. This is the first time that Simon has been anally penetrated by a man.
Max does it properly so as not to hurt him. Simon thinks it felt good, but
does not orgasm. Max explains castration as well, and agrees that Simon could
be done, for he is “just the right age.” They have a lengthy discussion about
geldings, both horses and boys.
Simon begins to tire of being a bum-boy and wants some action with girls of
his own. Being **Ramsay’s** bum-boy has made him quite “tarty” as well.
**Age 11.5 –** Simon is described as a scruffy boy with mouse-brown hair and
is still a grubby little urchin. His testicles are no larger than a man’s
thumbnail and his penis is likened to an “acorn not out of place on a 4 year
old.”
**Simon’s Uncle Carl is actually his 4th cousin a few times removed**. Max is
married to (one of) Carl’s sisters.
Simon has learned about “the birds and the bees” at school, and confirms his
data with Uncle Carl. Later in the day, Simon meets up with a gelded horse,
Mustang. Simon thinks it’s mean to cut a horse’s balls off. Uncle Carl
explains the reasons for gelding a horse, and Simon entertains his first ideas
about human castration. “Do they ever do that on boys?” He asks. Mustang
attempts to mount a mare and then gives up.
Uncle Carl tells Simon several tales of gelded boys he has known of, the world
over. The boy is fascinated. Simon says he was circumcised, to “keep him from
fiddling with it.” He still fiddles with it.
**Simon has the full story on castration explained to him** by Uncle Carl; it
conforms to Uncle Max’s story. He also has his genitals examined during such,
and learns a neat trick for going to the bathroom in the wilds.
**Simon** has his bum fucked for the first time by Uncle Carl, who does it
properly. He enjoys it, mainly for the novelty of it being ‘dirty’ or taboo.
Anything dirty, or to do with sex appeals to him, as it does most young boys
at that age. Carl seems to enjoy it as well, and does not hurt him. Simon
relishes in the dirty little secret that they share. Simon had previously been
sodomized by Max Riche.
**Simon’s erect** length is, at this time, all of **2** inches.
Later that month, Simon admits to being able to masturbate, but not ejaculate.
He just plays with it until it goes stiff. He is caught attempting sex with
13-14 year old **Sue** , her idea. **Aunt Jennifer** catches them in the act.
Simon is labeled as “depraved” by his Aunt Jennifer and seen as a “dirty
minded kid”. Carl suggests having him neutered to Jennifer, after she comes to
Carl for advice on her “insane and depraved children”.
Carl diagnoses Simon with **ADHS** / ADHD. ** Neutering **is the preferred
cure, not medications.
No mention of Vikki and Charlie Saunderson being depraved.
**Simon finds out that he is to be neutered**. He asks Uncle Carl about it,
who explains it all again. Carl then informs him, in a “no-argument” tone,
that he IS going to be neutered. Simon agrees that it sounds fine to him and
asks when it can be done. Later though, he wanders off crying, since “nobody
cares”.
Uncle Max has talked to Carl about having Simon neutered as well. They tend to
be in agreement that it is the best course of action for the boy, citing that
neutering has “been the making” of some problem boys they have known.
Simon seems to grow a bit depressed and gets an attitude. He later tells his
little cousin **Charlie (turned 8** ) that HE is going to be neutered as well
when he’s a bit older. We don’t know if Charlie ever got neutered or not.
Simon is told he is being taken to Disneyland, but instead, is taken to be
neutered.
Uncle Carl has a go at Sue, whom he describes as “slutty”. Simon is rewarded
with the offer of a new computer of his choice, though, to sooth his feelings.
He still harbors some anger about being lied to about Disney, though, thinking
that the idea of trading his balls for a PC isn’t too fair.
Carl later comes to regret the PC idea, as Simon is a dirty-minded kid who
gets into Internet porn and develops sharp skills on the PC.
Carl trades up to a new Jaguar. It will later be traded off for an Aston-
Martin.
Simon first sees a painting of **Cecco** called " **Love Victorious** ". Cecco
was a prepubescent eunuch, and a famous model in Italy. Although he is
castrated, Cecco is depicted as an intact boy. Simon will later come to
believe that some of Cecco's contemporaries died not from the castration they
underwent, but from a broken heart. **
**
**Simon Scott, age 11.5, almost 12, has his balls pricked with Neutersol
Part of the exam includes a **warm, soapy enema**. Simon enjoys this. So does
the Doctor’s Nurse, who delights in neutering “sweet little boys”. Two other
boys are neutered that day with Simon – one wants to be (for religious
reasons), but the other cries a lot. Simon is not impressed with him.
In bed that night, Simon’s balls itch and as he realizes what they’ve done to
him, he cries.
In a week, Simon’s balls begin to turn to mush. One month later, Simon’s balls
and cords are gone, his scrotum shrinks up tight, and he is left impotent with
a penis hardly big enough to let him pee standing up.
**Neutersol** is said to _also destroy the nerves that allow a boy to attain
erection, as well as destroying his testicles, making HRT_ ( **Hormone
Replacement Therapy** ) _an option that will still _NOT_ _permit the neutered
boy to fuck a girl. His secondary sex characteristics, including a deep voice
and a beard, will be attained with HRT, but erectile capability will not.
Belmarsh mentions HRT at a later date, which makes no sense to Simon. Carl
seems to blow it off, thus hinting that HRT is NOT an option for Simon –
**_ever_**.
Uncle Carl may or may not have gone along…he later says he drove Simon to the
clinic in his Jaguar, but Simon seems to recall having it done elsewhere –
perhaps a traumatic delusion? He could also have been lied to. It is safer to
take Carl’s account of the boy’s neutering, instead of Simon’s, as boys tend
to embellish stories. Simon recovers quickly, though.
Simon is told that he may have to be circumcised again when his penis beings
to shrink up. This doesn’t seem to bother him much.
Simon is told that he is a **boy-eunuch** now and will never have another
erection, and never be able to fuck girls. Stunned, Simon contemplates his
neutering all the way home. He can hardly believe that they actually did it to
him.
Sue teases Simon relentlessly, singing, “Simon’s had his balls pricked…” over
and over. At near 15, Sue _is_ “a slut.” Sue’s teasing begins to get on
Simon’s nerves.
Uncle Carl makes use of Simon’s bum once again, and the now-boy-eunuch enjoys
it.
Simon begins to grow taller, a “big-little boy”.
Simon officially becomes Carl’s Ward after the incident with Sue that led to
his neutering. The Saundersons want no more to do with him. School becomes his
home until Carl can figure out what to do with him.
**Simon becomes impotent** after a few weeks and stops “fiddling with it,”
citing there is no point to it anymore. Impotency sets in. He seems to accept
his eunuch status.
Carl prepares for a trip to the Far East and will be gone for about 18 months.
(He arrives back sooner.)
**Age 11.5-12 –** Simon isn’t doing well in school, in academia, choir, or
sports. He is unpopular and still scruffy. Here we first learn that part of
the school health care program is a weekly enema session with cold water from
a hose on the tap. Simon dreads this, believing that Matron is just trying to
fill a boy to bursting. All junior boys must receive a weekly enema.
**Age 12 - Mark Maitland** - (future best friend of Simon) is neutered at age
12 by his Aunt, to further his singing career. We know nothing of Mark’s
parents, other than that they were lost in a boating accident when Mark was
only 5.
Shortly before being neutered, Mark manages to **penetrate his girlfriend** ,
**Wendy** , vaginally, with his erect penis. He even has a dry orgasm inside
of her. His penis later shrinks up to be the tiniest one Simon has ever seen,
and Mark cannot pee standing up.
Mark orders a strap-on dildo online to keep Wendy happy once he becomes
impotent. Mark records another CD, but is unaware of how much money he makes.
He gets a scholarship to a school in **Sussex**.
(Marks’ neutering probably took place on summer break ON HIS BIRTHDAY (12).
Mark says he rode his bike to the Doctor’s office and rode back; it was that
trivial of a thing! We find out some time later that Mark lives at a flat in
London and that he WANTED to get his balls pricked after entertaining some
doubts.)
Music critics begin to call **Mark Maitland** the successor to **Aled Jones,**
for whom Mark doesn’t care much. Mark makes money, but his accountants and
Auntie handle all that. He has no idea he is loaded and could buy a manor
house if he liked.
Fearing Mark's voice will change, the recording company secretly archives a
lot of his work for future release. **Roddy Fisher** will later voice-over for
duets with him, boosting sales. Mark begins to get used to his celebrity, and
his looks as an angelic choirboy.
**Mark's Aunt Freda** begins to entertain notions on how to get at the boy's
money from his CD sales. Three years later, **Mark's lawyers** will leave HER
high and dry. **
**
**The Roebuck Twins** are neutered at age 12 in a Gulf States orphanage.
Shortly thereafter, they are claimed by relatives and brought to the UK to
live and attend school. They are very quiet boys, but lethal at **judo**.
**Graham "Jack" Elliot,** hits puberty and becomes a sex maniac. He is a crude
boy with a hard Geordie accent. Shortly thereafter, he is neutered at **12**
to calm him down and subdue his “Romeo-type” conquests. Jack doesn’t think he
can live without his balls, but soon adapts. This improves his voice, as well
as his repertoire of dirty jokes – most involving Vicars buggering choirboys.
**Age 12.5-13** – **Simon** changes schools after being signed over to Uncle
Carl. His grades improve dramatically in his **new school at** **Sussex** on
the far side of **Brighton**. The School has quite a history to it. He becomes
the star soprano in the boys’ choir, but can’t box worth a damn, breaking down
in tears whenever hit. He is a good fast **rugby winger** , though.
Uncle Carl describes Simon’s inability to box as being related to his **_lack
of_ male hormones**, citing that he “has no iron in his bones” to toughen him
up. The games master says that in winter (Rugby Union being the major sport)
in the Under-14 team; Simon was a “winger” with a remarkable turn of speed. In
the athletics season he was developing well in the triple jump, and was
shortly going to train for distance running – he seemed to have just the right
build. Uncle Carl realizes that his long legs and thin build of a eunuch are
to credit for this.
Simon also isn't too good at gymnastics, and at age 14.5-15 will injure
himself on a horizontal beam jump. Being a eunuch saves him from more serious
injury.
**Sandie Ross** , future friend of Simon's and a good alto singer, is neutered
to prevent him shafting his female cousins (According to Sandie). One of the
cousins is named Allie, with whom **Sandie** is caught. This turns out to be
the last time **Sandie** will sport his 2” erection. This turns **Sandie**
into quite the bottom boy who is always ready for action, and gets him the
reputation as the “house tart”. There is some confusion as to Sandie's
neutering, as it also fits the timetable for the **Dr. Jolly / Joli** scandal.
Later evidence verifies Sandie’s neutering by his guardians.
Carl’s job had taken him to the Far East for about 18 months prior, but he
returns a bit sooner. (Simon’s guess.) Simon is very happy to see him; two
years prior, he would not even have spoken to him. Uncle Carl examines Simon,
testing his penis by stroking him to see if he is truly impotent. Simon cannot
get an erection, but feels like he needs “to be excused,” proving that he is
still capable of SOME kind of erotic sensations.
**Simon’s uniform** is described as a white vest with navy blue blazer, white
satin shorts and white trainers with ankle socks. Simon usually doesn’t wear
underwear, but is described as “spotless” and very neat. There is no mention
of a tie, but we can assume it is navy blue as well. Simon’s haircut is
probably a neat Ivy League-blend type.
Simon has grown, almost as tall as Carl; probably 5’6-9” or so. Before going
back to school after this first weekend back in England of Carl’s, Simon
almost literally begs his Uncle to sodomize him again. Carl obliges him.
**Carl has taken full custody of Simon and his welfare.** He is letting him
stay with his friends, the **Knight-Foxes** , at **New Forest by Lymington
Haven** , while he is not around and/or gone on work. His travels are
extensive, and obviously work-related. Rumor is that he is involved in
**_“Operation Sugar_** ** _Plum_** ** _”_** , although Simon knows NOTHING of
this at the time.
**_“Operation Sugar Plum”_** is a covert group of men who import and export
unwanted boys to be neutered and to serve as docile and ‘safe’ servants to
various upper class citizens the world over. They usually operate out of South
America. **Uncle Max** is involved.
Carl gives us a broad scope of his knowledge of boys being neutered the world
over. It seems that he has been everywhere, as the old song goes…
His friends, the **Knight-Foxes** , were described as lovely people with three
boys.
Simon likes his new school, and soon discovers he is not the only boy-eunuch
there. This seems to brighten his spirits and his grades improve. He sometimes
misses Ramsay, however, but not much.
**Simon Scott meets Mark Maitland** at School and the two become fast friends.
Mark is the **first neutered boy** , other than himself, that **Simon** has
ever encountered. Having a best friend is probably the reason for his dramatic
turnaround. Simon met no other eunuchs at his old school, or if he did, we
don't know about them.
**Mark Maitland** invites Simon to stay at his Aunt’s London flat with him.
There was a girl there, Wendy, and another girl ( **Lorna** ), a friend of
Wendy’s. Simon is astonished at what filthy things girls can do – much
filthier than boys! This was another shared secret – that girls will let you
do anything, if you can’t possibly get them pregnant. Their tiny penises
seemed to drive them wild. “We were **exotic boy-eunuchs** , trained to give
girls pleasure!” Simon tells us. The girls have a good time, sometimes
referring to the boys as their “ ** _eunuch slaves_** ”.
**Simon becomes leading chorister –** his singing voice began to improve from
the moment of getting his balls pricked. Mark also excels at all sorts of
athletics.
Simon meets the **Roebuck Twins, Jon & Jamie,** who are great at swimming and
Judo. The Roebuck boys were orphaned at age **5** in a Gulf State, and
neutered at age **12** in the orphanage there. They are only then found by
relatives and returned to England. They have ginger hair and freckles and are
identical. They are also very quiet boys.
The boy-eunuchs form a sort of **club** at school and admit other boys who
have lost their balls in many other ways. Some members include **Colin
Hislop,** whose balls had withered away after a bad attack of the **mumps**.
**Manchit Khannah’s** had been chopped off in some sort of ritual, in his
native India. It hadn’t prevented him becoming a demon fast bowler, though.
With their skills, they were starting to earn certain privileges. _It wouldn’t
be long before boys went deliberately to get their balls pricked, to gain
admission to their circle_...according to Simon.
No data is given on what boys in this “inner circle” have volunteered to be
neutered. We assume castration via **Neutersol** injection.
**Colin Hislop** has a little brother, **Calum** , also a eunuch. No reason
known for Calum's castration, although Colin suffered from mumps as a little
boy. Calum probably contracted mumps from his brother as well.
**Manchit Khannah** takes up boxing as a fly-weight, which Simon can’t do
because he is prone to tears.
Simon goes to London as a birthday gift from Uncle Max. They stay with a lady
known as **Aunt Glenda**.
**Simon** meets his **distant cousin Wendy** and does some “fiddling” with
her. He is stunned to learn that this same Wendy is his cousin AND Mark’s
girlfriend!
Uncle Carl finds out that **Simon is indeed “ _the boy eunuch of erotic
fiction”_** __ and totally impotent when he examines him again. Carl seems
quite taken with his young Ward, and compares him to **Cecco** , an Italian
castrato of a famous painting. Simon is fascinated by Cecco, although the boy
in the portrait has large balls “painted on”, even though he was a castrato at
the time he modeled. Simon has seen this painting, " **Love Victorious** "
before.
Uncle Carl is back earlier than 18 months. Simon’s comprehensions of time, as
are most children’s, are a bit off.
Simon tells Carl all about Wendy and her friend Lorna and the things they let
him to do them since he was “safe” eunuch. For a eunuch, Simon certainly gets
around. He describes having an enema, and then the girls used a dildo on him
after he uses the strap-on on them. Simon is amazed at “how dirty girls can
be.” Simon decided that he really liked the girls, and he excels at ‘oral’.
Although he is anally penetrated on a regular basis, (even by the girls with
the dildo!) Simon has yet to experience an orgasm. He begins to wonder why
people like to put things up his bum.
**Age 13.5-14 –** Simon writes a term paper about being neutered as the most
important day of his young life. He gets very high marks on his essay,
**_“Simon Tells It Like It Was.”_** _Simon mistakenly cites that he was 12,
not 11, when he was neutered.
_
(At this time of life, 11.5 is as good as 12 to a boy, and Simon was probably
pushing it!)
At this age, **Simon shows NO secondary male sexual characteristics** , and
knows that he never will. He realizes that even with HRT, he will never have
balls or an erection again and can never fuck a girl. Writing the report makes
him a bit melancholy.
**Mr. Meredith** , the invigilator, pop-eyed and bald-headed, wonders if Simon
is “quite with us at all”, as the boy daydreams a 2-hour period away and has
to make it up later instead of seeing a film so as to complete his paper.
Simon realizes that, no, he is NOT “all there”, which is funny.
eldest son, has moved out to **Sandhurst** for officer training. He dates
Melanie’s older sister, **Alice**. **Malcolm and Roddy** remain at home. Simon
has his own attic room and privacy.
Uncle Carl’s whereabouts are unknown. _Conjecture that he is busy with some
covert **eunuch importation/production** operation_.
Simon has been watching straight porn vids on the **Internet** and feeling
longings to be able to fuck girls like the boys do in the vids. **Neutersol**
, it seems, has eliminated his ability but not his desires. He is very
**frustrated**.
**Simon meets Melanie, a nice girl obsessed with horses and geldings.** They
become an item. Melanie takes pity on Simon for being castrated, but falls
madly in lust with him because he is a eunuch. Simon discovers that although
he can’t DO IT to her, he still has urges for Melanie and is embarrassed and
frustrated. He tells his neutering story to her, she cries, and they have a go
orally.
Melanie confesses to Simon of being obsessed with neutering, be it horses or
otherwise. She also suspects that **Malcolm Knight-Fox** is gay and is using
his little brother, **Roddy,** as a bum-boy.
Simon describes his friend Mark Maitland as pretty, although he himself is
ordinary. Simon still doesn’t wear underwear, citing no need to, but Mark
likes to wear tight white nylon girls’ briefs. His Aunt’s home was at
Rustington-on-sea, not far from the school. More to the point it wasn’t too
far from Lymington Haven: a bus ride to Portsmouth then train on the coastwise
line towards Brighton. Already Simon had the beginnings of an idea: **a
foursome: Melanie and himself, and Mark and his girlfriend**. Mark also uses a
strap-on for her which he bought off the Internet right after having his balls
pricked.
**Simon and Melanie** take the train to Mark’s place. Simon is still a bit
shocked to know that Mark’s girlfriend is none other than his “cousin”, Wendy!
There seem to be no hard feelings, though.
Mark states that his Aunt routinely gives him enemas to keep him regular, and
insists that he and Simon have one before their sexual adventures with the
girls. Mark knows how to administer an enema, and gives them both one with
“the bag”. Simon is confused, but finds out why, when Melanie introduces him
to the game of **“Ride the Gelding”**. This involves her riding him like a
pony while sodomizing him with a double-ended dildo! Simon comes to find this
OK, although it does nothing for him sexually.
(Mark’s enema bag is probably a 2-quart standard red bag. If he knows where
it’s kept, and how to use it, it’s safe to assume that he enjoys his enemas.)
Mark also keeps a stash of chilled wine. The boy-eunuchs bring the girls to
**_smashing orgasms_** , both with oral and the dildos. They all end up sweaty
and exhausted.
**Two days later** , all four of them meet and do it again!
Mark extols the virtues of being a eunuch to Simon, who is longing to be “a
real man”. Mark cites that he wouldn’t have lasted 10 minutes if he had a 6”
penis and could get hard. The girls love their eunuchs because they can go so
long, unlike “other boys”.
Simon begins wearing a pair of Melanie’s tiny black thong underwear which he
received in the mail.
**Age 14.0 – Simon at the Knight-Foxes’**. He is a very sensitive boy, but
finds the life there boring. He shares the house with Mr. and Mrs. Knight-Fox,
their three boys, and **Mrs. Hodges, the Housekeeper**. The eldest son John is
still away at Sandhurst, having moved out.
Roddy and Malcolm attend a boarding school at Devon.
**Roddy Knight-Fox** is just turned thirteen, with blond hair and the sort of
peaches-and-cream complexion that often comes with very fair people. There was
a sort of 'little-boy-lost' air about Roddy: not that he was small and slight
– he wasn’t, he was quite well made – but sometimes his blue eyes would open
wide and his mouth quivered, as if he was going to cry. Roddy is quiet and is
not circumcised. He enjoys chess and stamp collecting.
**Fifteen-year-old Malcolm** couldn’t have been more different – a true son of
his father. **Wing Commander Knight-Fox** was a thick-set, burly man with
iron-grey hair that had once been black, and strong features. Malcolm was as
dark as his father had been and the same sort of build, big feet and big,
rough hands. (Roddy’s hands were slender and delicate). He had inherited the
same large nose and prominent chin. Only his mouth was different. The Wing-
Commander always looked good-humored; Malcolm’s mouth was turned-down and
ugly. He has an ugly personality, too.
At freshly **16, Malcolm** gets drunk and crashes the family BMW, killing a
vagrant in the process. He is sent away. The Knight-Fox parents go on holiday
after it’s all said and done. Mrs. Hodges, the housekeeper, looks after Simon
and Roddy. The boys successfully avoid the **media** that descends upon the
house.
Roddy becomes withdrawn and stops talking to Simon, mainly keeping to his
room.
**Roddy learns that Simon has been neutered** after seeing him naked in the
shower. He is fascinated. He then runs off and vanishes. Simon and Melanie
track him down later in the day.
Simon learns that little Roddy Knight-Fox is adopted, and that Malcolm, the
Knight-Fox’s natural son, is openly gay and has been abusing him. Roddy is
very traumatized by it, and hates his life. He wishes he’d never been adopted.
He hates being Malcolm’s bum-boy, and is often sore since Malcolm hurts him.
Simon doesn’t mind being a bum-boy now and then, but Roddy can’t understand
that. (This is probably due to Malcolm brutalizing him and not doing it
properly.)
Malcolm tends to frequent gay bars with some friends and enjoys sex with
street boys. Roddy is afraid he will bring a disease home to him, we later
learn.
Roddy states that he is “different”, and is so despondent that Simon and
Melanie are worried.
**Roddy Knight-Fox confesses to Melanie and Simon that he wants “to be like
Simon.”** – ie., castrated. This is brought on by Malcolm, who is, in Roddy’s
mind, all the things that he fears growing up to be like. The thought of
puberty horrifies Roddy, and he cries himself to sleep after lunch.
Simon discovers that **Melanie’s Mum is indeed Uncle Carl’s younger sister**!
Melanie says it’s good that Simon is a eunuch; otherwise they’d have had
“loopy children” by now! (Actually, they are distant enough cousins to
eliminate this worry, but it is a moot point!)
Simon and Melanie plot to castrate Roddy. They order Neutersol on Melanie’s
Mum’s gold Visa card online from a company in America. Simon is very good with
computers, we learn.
Simon and Mark will later be disgusted to learn how much is being charged for
Neutersol when **Mark's Aunt Freda sues the boy** for medical costs. She gets
3k Pounds out of it.
Melanie waylays the postman (method unknown!) and brings the Neutersol over in
the Hamilton family **Land Rover** to show Simon. She can’t drive worth a
damn, and worries Simon that she’ll be arrested or wreck it.
**Near 11:00 PM that night, Melanie injects Roddy’s balls with Neutersol
Plus.** She floods her pants in orgasm upon doing a real live boy! Roddy never
even wakes up. The boy dreams on, not realizing that he’s just had his balls
pricked and is a eunuch.
Simon and Melanie have crazed sex in his attic room. Melanie is very wound up,
since injecting Roddy.
Simon comes to believe that his days as a bum-boy are over.
Melanie drives the Land Rover home. Simon feels sorry for the poor car as he
wanders off to bed.
**Next day –** the verdict of Malcolm Knight-Fox’s trial - he gets 2 years in
YOC, where he’ll be “buggered rotten”. Roddy enjoys this news. Then he wanders
off in blissful shock upon being told that he’s really a boy-eunuch now, and
was not dreaming it!
Uncle Carl finally arrives home! He lets his cottage out to renters and takes
over the Knight-Fox house and property. The elder Knight-Foxes move to **New
Zealand** , where Malcolm will join them in 2 years time when he is released.
Roddy does not move with them.
With one week until school starts, Uncle Carl takes Simon to **Euro-Disney**
as he promised, out of guilt for lying to him about it. Simon vows that he
won’t be buggering him ever again, but goes to Disney anyway, and is happy.
Melanie and Roddy go to.
**Roddy transfers to Simon’s school at start of term.**
An embarrassing picture of **Simon in Mickey Mouse ears** was taken at Disney
and gets loose at school, mortifying him. We can assume that Melanie snapped
it, or at least ordered it. If there was one of Roddy, it’s never mentioned.
**Back at school a week later** - Roddy Knight-Fox has been taken in hand,
upon his arrival, by the **Roebuck Twins** ; their gentle appearance conceals
the fact that they are both Black Belts in Judo. They let Simon know. (The
Twins quiet demeanor is probably the factor in dealing with Roddy.)
Simon wants Roddy to meet as many of his friends as could get together, so he
sent word around and found an empty room. All the familiar faces are there:
**Mark Maitland** , professional singer, successor to Aled Jones; shy and
diffident **Colin Hislop** , maths genius, and his younger brother **Calum** ;
**Manchit Khannah,** who had survived a crude village castration and the
horrible life of a “hijra” to become a demon fast bowler. (Manchit later
states that he is NOT an actual hijra, although this is often assumed because
of his Indian heritage. Manchit still has a penis. His castration method was
to have his scrotum bound with a horsehair tourniquet until his balls withered
away; they are later chopped off); and cheeky **Graham “Jack” Elliott,** who
prefers to be called by ‘Jack’, thank you, and had never lost his Geordie
accent; and a few others who had apparently had their balls pricked over the
summer holidays and were still coming to terms with it.
**‘Jack’ Elliot** says that there “aren’t a pair of **Knackers** in the room.”
He is called crude by Mark, which is funny. Jack tells a joke about a Priest
who buggers an altar boy.
At the beginning of each term, Simon states that “new boy-eunuchs” are
apparent and trying to figure out what has happened to them. We learn that
showering in communal. Simon and his gang end to take the new eunuchs in hand.
**Roddy fits right in and is finally happy**. He joins the choir and can sing
“like an angel”. Simon describes it as “coming home” for Roddy.
**Age 14.25 – February – at school – same term as above** – Friday – Simon
gets an enema by **Matron.** She uses warm soapy water and a large enema bulb,
not a hose connected to a cold tap as his old school Matron did. Simon finds
it soothing. Matron seems only concerned about his backside, and not about the
fact that he’s a eunuch.
**Junior boys** are all subjected to weekly “hot soap and waters” as a matter
of hygiene. Senior boys are not?
(With a covert provision in the law for neutering, as well as communal
showering, we can assume that it is common knowledge at the school that some
boys do not have balls. Obviously, with the number of them that we know of,
Matron would not be impressed by it.)
Simon has regular weekly meetings with **Dr. A.D. Jolly, D Mus., MA.,** the
choral director, Friday evenings, right after his enema sessions. Dr. Jolly
uses Simon for a bum-boy, much to Simon’s chagrin. It does nothing for Simon
sexually, as they watch an illegal porno with an Asian eunuch boy in it and do
the same things, every time: They have éclairs and tea, and discuss choir
business.
Simon meets **Tommy Chow Bing Wah** in Dr. Jolly’s office. Tommy is a
conceited **Chinese boy** , but he can sing. Tommy has a thick accent and some
trouble with English pronunciations.
Simon is head of one part of the Choir, while Mark handles the other part.
Simon discovers that Dr. Jolly has a **dream of a choir of 40+ boy eunuchs** ,
to revive the lost operas of **Handel** , and that Tommy Chow is to be the
next castrato. Simon is assigned to get him neutered, or at least, talked into
it.
Simon finds out that Dr. Jolly is buggering Mark Maitland as well, threatening
to cancel his scholarship if he tells. Simon tricks this information out of
Mark. Mark is not happy about Tommy Chow’s choir placement, which is unseemly
given his talent and tenure.
Simon and Mark discover that Dr. Jolly is having boys castrated for his dream
choir – boys with no parents nearby to interfere. Among them is little **Harry
Ricketts** , a boy who only dreams of being in the **Army**.
Simon finds Harry crying several times during term, but Harry won’t talk about
it.
Other boys neutered, that Simon and Mark know of, are: **Ellison, Raxworthy,
Peter Forster, Foulkes, and Elliot** – **not JACK / GRAHAM ELLIOT.** Jack
Elliot is not neutered until _“Made Safe”_ one month prior to that. This is
obviously a different Elliot boy, as at this time, Jack still has his balls
and is a sex maniac.
Simon also makes the comment that he can come up with **four or five other**
choirboys that he knows have been neutered.
Simon and Roddy explain castration as done in the West to Tommy. Tommy tells
what he knows of Chinese eunuchs after Simon and Roddy drop their pants for
him. Tommy is stunned to see that Western eunuchs get to keep their penises.
Unsure at first, **Tommy agrees to castration** upon realizing that he too can
keep his penis – unlike the Chinese eunuchs that he knows about. The boys head
to Roddy’s home with Tommy to meet Melanie.
Melanie admits to having screwed a “real boy” the summer before last. She
prefers a gelded Simon, however, and tells him this when he frets about it.
Melanie soothes his insecurities.
**_Note that Melanie confesses to having cheated on Simon.
_**
**Simon admits to having erotic dreams,** despite being a eunuch. We do not
know the content of these dreams. We can assume that Simon doesn’t have wet or
‘dry’wet dreams.
Melanie goes online and orders a Neutersol pack for Tommy Chow’s castration,
again using her Mum’s Visa card. Only her accountant ever sees the bills,
anyway.
The boys head back to school. Some days later, the Neutersol arrives and
Melanie books a hotel room under an assumed name to neuter Tommy.
**Tommy shares his ideas of replacing Simon as head chorister**. Simon is not
impressed.
Simon realizes that Tommy’s smug attitude will soon vanish with castration,
and he’ll “do as he’s told” after being neutered. Simon then realizes that _HE
himself_ is just like that – **docile and servile** to a point. He has read
that eunuchs tend to be. This bothers him when it dawns on him.
**One week later, Tommy Chow is neutered by Simon at the hotel.** Melanie is
too excited to do it and floods herself in ecstasy again.
Dr. Jolly seeks to have more boys neutered for his choir, so Simon informs
Melanie, after Tommy is told to rest up.
**Little Harry Ricketts blows the whistle on Dr. Jolly**. Having been neutered
and used as a bum-boy is too much for him. He contacts his lawyers and files
charges.
Mark Maitland calls them on the phone at the hotel and informs Simon that all
leaves are cancelled. Dr. Jolly has been found to be a fraud, and arrested.
His name, actually **Joli,** and all of his credentials are found to be false.
The scandal of his castration of several boys is a brief thing.
Joli disappears after deportation.
**Neutersol Plus is found to NOT be foolproof** – **Harry Ricketts** and his
balls survive it, and Harry, who has been sad and in much pain from his body’s
unique 1 in 1,000,000 efforts to save his balls, goes to see a specialist in
New York City, USA, one **Dr. Niemann** who saves them.
(It is possible that this event, or more like it, is the catalyst for the
development of **Neutersol Rapid**.)
Some weeks later, **Harry returns with balls intact and healthy** , to show
Simon and his friends. They are happy for him. **He later joins the Army** , a
fully functional male, **at age 16** ; he gets to realize his dream. His
father is proud of him.
**Easter that year - Mr. Trefusis,** the new director, reorganizes the choir.
An overconfident Tommy Chow fails his exam, and leaves the school. Roddy earns
High Distinctions. Mark passes easily, as does Simon.
Simon states that Mr. Trefusis knows nothing of the boy-eunuchs, neutered for
choir or NOT. We don't know for sure if Trefusis knows or not, really; if he
does, he’s not talking about it RIGHT then.
Simon admits that Mark is much more talented that he is. Unbeknownst to
anyone, however, **Mark is very worried** and feelings of guilt are causing
him anxiety. **The first thoughts of regret over being neutered** surface in
his mind, but he keeps quiet.
Simon takes a leave and goes home to see Melanie after a fortnight. They play
“Ride the Gelding” again. Melanie collapses on top of Simon, and the dildo
hits his prostate. Simon almost panics at the erotic and unfamiliar feelings,
and doesn’t like it one bit. Frightened of having sexual pleasure as a bum-
boy, he returns to school.
Simon ponders why everyone wants to use him for a bum-boy, still upset over
the dildo incident.
The School begins accepting local boys, known as “ **day boys** ” for tuition
fees. One of these new boys is **Jesse Morris.**
Simon gets beaten up badly by a new “day-boy” at school and needs 12 stitches
to close a wound over his left eye. **Jesse Morris, or “Jazza”,** as he
prefers to be called, does it at a rugby game. Jazza also attempts to break
Simon’s spine by stomping on him.
Simon wakes up in the san (infirmary) to meet **Nurse, a new employee** , who
promptly gives him an **enema.** Simon is afraid that he has lost his eye, but
has not.
**Nurse is fascinated by the fact that Simon is a eunuch** and thinks all
eunuch boys are “cut”. Simon corrects her. She listens to his tale intently.
**Jesse Morris is a racially mixed** , unintelligent boy with a superiority
complex. He is not well liked. His entire existence seems to be rooted in sex,
and Simon shivers at the thought of how many bastard children he has sired –
IF his tales are true about never using a condom.
Jazza DOES in fact have an impressive penis.
Jazza turns out to be a **thief** , the first hint being when Roddy gets a
call to come and pick up his stamp collection from a local pawn shop. Jazza,
it turns out, has quite the stolen goods ring running.
Roddy and Mark do some duet work for Mark’s recording label. This was Simon’s
idea.
**Simon is subjected to daily enemas** by Nurse during his protracted stay in
the Infirmary for his facial and back wounds. He still wonders why everyone
insists on putting things up his bum so often.
Nurse is quite gentle with Simon, and uses an enema bulb. Simon “relaxes
lazily” in bed while being filled.
**Roddy is awarded his Under XV Colours** for playing **junior rugby** and is
happy; he comes to show Simon. He is very proud of himself. Simon is happy for
him.
Simon wanders out of the san., in violation of the rules. Later on, he sets up
a trap for Jazza after finding his stash of stolen goods on campus. **The
Roebuck Twins take Jazza down** , and he is arrested and taken into custody,
proclaiming that they will never get him.
Jazza arrives back at school in the san. with Simon, who realizes that as
punishment for his juvenile crimes, **Jazza has had his balls pricked** with
new **Neutersol Rapid**!
Jazza becomes violently ill, experiencing all of the flu-like side effects. He
has a spontaneous ejaculation, much to Simon’s disgust. Simon suggests that
Nurse give him a high-volume enema.
Just before his enema, **Simon tells Jazza that his erection is the last one
he’ll ever have.** Jazza does not believe him.
Some of the blanks as to what has transpired are soon filled in by an
unexpected letter from Uncle Carl. The trial of Jazza had been almost a family
affair, since the **Hon. Selena Scott Hamilton (Melanie’s Mum)** was presiding
magistrate, assisted on the one side by Uncle Carl himself and on the other by
**Commandant Mrs. Briggs OBE** , head of the local Red Cross and a sort of
aunt of Melanie’s on her father’s side. They had sentenced Jazza to neutering
under a covert new law.
Roddy writes to Uncle Carl, exposing his castration and how happy he is. Uncle
Carl is not upset.
Uncle Carl advises Simon to watch Melanie before she gelds every boy in town!
Jazza is expelled and vanishes. Simon delights in the knowledge of what the
crude boy will suffer through during testosterone withdrawal.
Simon gets new white thong underwear from Nurse and models them for her. Nurse
is delighted.
Mark and Roddy’s new album is released to rave reviews.
**Roddy goes back to his old name of Roddy Fisher.
**
**Near the end of term** – Simon meets up with **Jason Johnson,** an
**American boy** making a fresh start in life in England with his Poppa. Jason
is a beautiful boy who is also a eunuch. He says he had his balls “stung out”,
obviously with Neutersol Rapid. He is amazed that Simon has, too.
Simon finds Jason’s rural Midwest American accent hard to understand.
Jason relates his gelding by his stepmother, at the hands of one Jewish **Dr.
Benjamin** , to Simon. He later goes on to tell Simon how he was ‘made safe’
for his stepmother **Layla** ’s and stepsisters’ benefit, and how his dad has
had a **vasectomy**.
**_Conjecture_** – this is the end of the **Johnson line on Jason’s side** ,
as both males are now sterile.
**Lalla…Layla…Lynda** …whatever…Simon can’t catch her name properly, enrolled
Jason in a boys’ club in the city, he tells Simon. Getting information out of
Jason Johnson is not easy.
Simon is horrified to learn that Jason has been used as a eunuch sex toy by
perverse men in America, and that he has become **addicted** to it. Jason
thinks that “all boys want his ass.” He also thinks that Simon wanted to use
him, until Simon drops his shorts and shows him that he is a eunuch too.
Jason does the same, and the boy-eunuchs have a discussion about
**circumcision** in general. Jason is tightly circumcised as well.
Jason explains to Simon about being a boy-toy to older men, and being made to
wear a **butt plug**. Simon is sickened, even though Jason seems to like it.
He also likes “big boys.” Simon cannot comprehend wearing a butt plug all of
the time. (We don’t know if Jason still wears one.)
Simon learns that the club where Jason was enrolled, along with several other
boys, was busted and many arrests were made. Dr. Benjamin vanishes. Jason’s
Poppa divorces his stepmother over this incident, hence their arrival in
England. No hard evidence can be found that Jason’s stepmother willingly
endangered him, but she is highly suspect.
Jason charges money for sexual favors, and is making a lot of money. Roddy
reports this to Simon after seeing him at the bank.
**Roddy suffers from phimosis and balantitis** , and has a radical, tight
circumcision, including total **frenulum removal**. Simon is frightened and
stunned by it. Roddy says it makes “having a pee just awful.”
**Simon begins to fear penectomy, or total emasculation,** as well, after
seeing Roddy’s butchered up and tiny little penis. “One more little cut and
he’d have been a full and proper eunuch boy…”
Not having seen much of one another, Roddy almost tearfully begs Simon to stay
with him in the san. and have a game of chess with him. Roddy wins.
Roddy heals up fast from his **circumcision** and reports more odd goings-on
to Simon about Jason.
Strange events lead up to the discovery that Jason has a large sex-ring-for-
money running with many of the senior boys. He is suspended and put in
therapy, in a “rehab place”, to help him. He is exposed to the teachers by
**Gerard Hopkins,** the captain of the senior boys’ team. The senior boys
escape the scandal somehow.
**Simon, Mark, Roddy, Melanie and Wendy** at Roddy’s house on break some days
later near end of term. “ **The Knickers Club** ” meetings, as Simon calls
them.
Mark Maitland begins gaining weight and could pass for a girl. Wendy feels bad
for Jason Johnson.
**Mark announces** to Simon and Roddy that he’s got a lot of money now from
his music CD’s, and **doesn’t want to be a eunuch anymore**. He decides to go
for experimental treatment and HRT to make him a man again. He cites Wendy
wanting a normal man, even though Melanie is very happy with a gelded Simon.
Simon is unsure how to take Mark’s admission. He seems somewhat hurt and
insecure, though.
Simon and Mark ask Roddy, who says you should never do “some things only for
money.” We don’t know what he means, as the girls return with food and
interrupt them.
Mark foregoes HRT and the experiments for at least one more year, much to
Simon’s relief. **Mark does have a consult booked with a doctor in**
**Germany** , however.
**Shortly after Summer Session begins, immediately preceding "Made Safe" -
July -** Simon is winding down a weekend leave and awaiting his meeting up
with Mark at **_The Lemon Tree Cafe_**. He is thinking of the trouble that he
had to help get Roddy out of for switching beds and sleeping bare. Roddy has
swapped beds with **Michael Banner** , a boy who was neutered by Dr. Jolly.
They did, in fact, want to switch beds 'for the view'.
**After this incident, the School decides to separate intact boys from eunuch-
boys in the Dorms. Showering is also segregated after sports.
**
**Mark Maitland has been in Germany** that summer, to be examined by a
**Professor Zuniger** at the **University** **of** **Goettingen**. The
Professor believes he can reverse Mark's neutering with **stem cells** and
gives him a thorough exam, including a scope up the urethra. Mark appears to
be 'intact' inside, if not outside!
**Homosexual happenings** are brought to light because of this bed-check and
decision to separate the boys and eunuchs. **Sandie Ross, 13** , in
particular, is fond of _'having a homo'_ as it's called. Sandie is described
as a peaches-and-cream complected boy, who was neutered to keep him from
shafting his cousins. Sandie is also rather chubby, but not unattractive.
While waiting, Simon thinks of Melanie and how they haven't played **"Ride the
Gelding"** lately due to Simon's odd feelings of anal pleasure and confusion.
**Mark tells Simon of his plans to use stem-cell culture to reverse his
neutering** operation. Simon is stunned by it all. He is also afraid for Mark,
in that it won't work. Mark seems to have gained weight.
**Mark's Aunt Cathy** , pregnant again, is to supply umbilical cord blood and
cells for the experiment. Simon notes that Mark is becoming depressed over
being nothing more than a singing eunuch. Still, he is looking at over a year,
maybe two, for the operation to prove out.
During their chat, Mark suddenly has a breakdown and begins to cry, begging
Simon not to leave him "like this." Again, Simon is stunned but very touched.
Simone swears never to leave him – as a friend. Simon and Mark are not – at
this point – sexually involved with one another.
Mark then becomes very ill on the way back to School. He is taken to the
Hospital, where meningitis is confirmed. Simon suspects he was infected by the
exam in Germany, and feels it is an Omen – a bad one.
**Later on in the week** , Simon meets up with some friends about odd goings-
on near the School. One of the boys suspects the **Steward** , who glares at
them often, of being a child molester.
**The Hill Rise Army Camp** , very near the School, has been the sight of some
odd happenings. Clues are found by the boys, indicating that someone from the
School is coming and going in and out of Hill Rise covertly. Simon relates a
history of his School:
_Like how that in the 1850’s the main school building had been a country
house, the home of an idle young peer, Lord Starborough. One autumn night His
Lordship was giving a grand ball to his guests. The previous summer had been
the wettest on record, and the canal bank was dangerously rotten. Without
warning, part of it collapsed, releasing not only the canal but the pent-up
water in the reservoir, at a higher level. Bursting through the windows, the
torrent flooded the ballroom twelve feet deep. Twenty of the dancers were
drowned or crushed.
_
_The canal went out of use. Later owners of the house sealed off the reservoir
as an ornamental lake. The ballroom was demolished – local people said that on
wet windy nights they could still hear the frenzied screaming of those trapped
inside. Still, others said that on moonlit lovely evenings, one could sneak a
peek and see their ghostly forms still dancing the night away - almost if
trying to finish the evening that had not been.
_
_And later still, the founders of our school had bought the building._
One other creepy fact about the area they investigate is that the small lake
was dredged and there was discovered a downed **WW2 Dakota airplane** in it,
complete with **4 skeletons** in it.
**Manchit Khannah, The Roebuck Twins, and Jack Elliot** claim the need to pee
as they investigate for clues. Simon claims it's not a "tiny cock contest" and
to hurry up. Indeed, nearly all of them do not have enough cock left to pee
standing up with.
The eunuch-sleuths are interrupted by a boy and girl, who have sex in the
forest. Simon is disgusted and annoyed at hiding.
That night, Simon misses Mark's sounds of slumber. **Peter Keeble** , the
other boy next to him, is a likely candidate for neutering, Simon thinks.
Obviously, the sleeping arrangements haven't been changed in Simon's Dorm
_yet_ , as Peter is intact.
The clues continue to mount, and Simon enlists the aid of some street urchins.
One is a boy named **Merv.** He is fascinated, as are his friends, by finding
that Simon is a eunuch. Simon trades this information, as well as showing them
his eunuch status, for their continued aid. One of the girls proves to be very
well skilled with the boys, but Simon is content to watch only.
Next week, Merv calls Simon at school. **Merv and his Marauders** have waylaid
a van at the gates of the base. Simon and Mr. Trefusis, who knows to believe
Simon by now, go to investigate. They get the Sergeant on duty to secure the
camp, and it turns out that **Simon's Geography Professor, Mr. Edward
Waterbury, aka Edvard Wasserbillig, is really an Al-Qa'ida spy** and stealing
munitions.
After Dr. Jolly, and now Waterbury, Simon is beginning to question the rest of
the Staff at School, in his own mind.
Back at School, Simon is called to **Dr. Holroyd's** office where he meets up
with his Uncle Max, and **Major-General Frobisher** of Military Intelligence.
Wasserbillig and his 3 young cohorts are arrested, and the School gets an
award which Simon narrowly avoids having HIS name put on. It would have been
embarrassing to him to have the OBE awarded.
The General asks Simon if he'd like to think about the Military, but Uncle Max
whispers to him about Simon, saving the boy from explaining. The General is
shocked. This is one reason that little Harry Ricketts was so upset - obsessed
with an Army career, he knew that **they didn't take eunuchs.
**
Simon is frightened to find out that Uncle Max has heard of Merv's Marauders,
the vagrant kids in town. He refuses to tell him any more about them, for fear
that Merv and his boys will end up neutered and sold as slaves or something in
" **Operation Sugar Plum** ".
Next day - Simon at The Lemon Tree again - He misses the only bus to Melanie's
and tries to avoid Uncle Max as well. He ponders how he found out about Max on
his own computer, thanking Uncle Carl for turning him onto PC's. Max is not
exactly a PC expert, even if he is great at international intrigue.
Simon goes to visit Mark, who is pale and weak but getting over it. Mark tells
Simon that **Dr. Holroyd really IS an MD** , not a professor-only doctor, and
he's getting into Mark's case with stem cell research. Simon is still very
worried over Mark.
Mark announces to Simon that while he didn't die, didn't lose any arms or legs
to the meningitis, that he can no longer sing and has a hard time talking.
Inwardly, and not realizing it, Simon is crushed and almost cries. He holds
Mark's hand until he falls back to sleep, frightened to death that the
neutering-reversal won't work and that Mark will end up with nothing.
Mark recovers enough to be asked to go on a "Mission of National Security"
with Simon and some others. It does him a lot of good in the long run. Roddy
is not invited to go, as Simon feels he wouldn't concentrate on the job at
hand.
**Shortly before age 14.4-15 – Captain Iain Donald** is sacked from his job at
**_“Operation Sugar_** ** _Plum_** ** _”,_** which involves exportation of
neutered South American boys to the Middle East. He heads back to London.
Donald meets Max Riche, Simon’s ‘uncle’, who offers him a job. Max is a
smoker.
**Max mentions his friends’ adopted son, autistic,** who has been castrated.
He mentions scars, so the **boy probably was cut** and not injected with
Neutersol. The boy settles right down and likes to collect stamps. (This is
NOT Roddy.)
Donald moves to the “Midlands” to begin his new job. The doctor in charge is
one **Otto von Gosch,** a naturalized American, though born an Austrian. The
boys later come to call him “ **Dr. Death** ”, although he never kills any of
them. This nickname comes to bother Donald later on, as does von Gosch’s dark
personality.
Donald’s ID is changed to Commander Donald, R.N.
**Age 14.5+15?** – No age given in the story. Simon and some of his friends
are recruited by Captain Donald, at Uncle Max’s suggestion, to work with stray
boys in **_“Operation Westward Ho,”_** a program for providing neutered boy
servants to upper-upper class high society folks in the West. Their Headmaster
releases them from school on “work of national importance.”
Uncle Carl buys and begins restoring an old house just across the border from
Lymington Haven to turn into a country club/retreat. (Conjecture.) He
commissions a special bronze statue to be made.
Captain Donald has been involved extensively in “ **Operation Sugar Plum** ,”
before being sacked; however, this highly secretive organization is not
mentioned to Simon and the other “Eunuch Trainers”.
After settling in and meeting some staff, Donald sees Simon for the first time
at the complex’s indoor swimming pool. He has five cohorts with him.
**Simon’** s hair has gone more blonde since his neutering. He **has the body
of a lithe young god,** according to Donald. The boy-eunuch “Trainers” swim
nude. Donald describes Simon’s voice as that of a female mezzo-soprano: light
but not shrill.
Simon IS shrill when excited and talking.
The other boys who go on “the mission” with him are **Graham “Jack” Elliot**
(gymnast and former sex maniac), **Mark Maitland** (singer formerly rivaling
Aled Jones and swimmer), **Manchit Khannah,** the Indian boy (an acolyte and
would-be eunuch priest and fast bowler/fly-weight boxer), the ginger-headed
and freckled **Roebuck Twins, Jamie and Jon** (British orphans raised from
ages 5 to 12 in a Gulf States orphanage, neutered at 12, and specialists in
unarmed combat).
The way to **tell the Roebuck Twins apart is their facial features** : Jon’s
are softer, and Jamie’s cheekbones are more prominent.
**Elliot** is described as fair-haired with a pretty face; he is also small
and wiry. He has only been “done” for a few months, obviously with Neutersol
Rapid. He is still a bit self-conscious. He has had his balls pricked on
orders of his Aunt and Uncle, his guardians who take little notice of him,
because he is a developing “sex maniac” and prone to almost priapasm.
**Manchit Khannah** is described as diminutive in size, but good at many
sports. His skin tone is described as “coffee colored”. Of the lot, Manchit is
the only one who has been castrated via knife and not Neutersol. He doesn’t
discuss it at all, until much later. (Conjecture - Simon knows, but who told
him is not clear.)
**Mark** says he had managed to have penetrative sex with his girlfriend a few
times before being neutered, but no longer can, after being neutered at his
Aunt’s insistence for his 12th birthday to further his singing career. He is
skilled at oral on Wendy now, and has the tiniest penis of the lot. He claims
to still experience “very strong feelings down there”, although he can’t
orgasm.
**The “spy eunuchs” realize their job is in helping boys adjust to being
neutered.** Manchit is worried that they will have their balls painfully
“chopped off” like him, but takes comfort in the fact that the boys destined
for servitude will have their balls pricked painlessly, like Simon. Simon will
later find out that Manchit suffered through having a horsehair tourniquet
tied tightly and painfully around his scrotum, and that his balls were only
chopped off after they'd withered away to almost nothing.
Shortly after meeting his “employees”, Donald takes delivery of three boys
from one **Margy Townsend**. They are **Wayne, Gary and Glen.** They will have
their balls pricked in two weeks from their arrival at the Center.
The boy-eunuchs tend to sleep nude at “the center”, and **Graham Elliot** puts
Donald in mind of **Narses,** **the Byzantine boy slave** who rose to command
armies and conquer Italy. The boys are to wear white shirts, black shorts, and
ankle socks with trainers.
**Neutersol Rapid** is mentioned in a German text. It is the drug of choice.
It works much faster, but gives the boy massive erections for the next day or
two with spontaneous ejaculations. It sometimes causes flu-like symptoms, but
not always. Testicular destruction is much faster than with Neutersol Plus or
Regular. It is also approved for boys (recall Jazza Morris) who are well into
puberty already.
**Conclusion** – Boys into puberty already will experience withdrawals from
testosterone, and would remain impotent and frustrated even WITH HRT.
**Donald finds some extensive literature** complete with pictures of boys,
before and after neutering, and reads up. He wonders why the beautiful fair-
haired boy in the images was neutered and what became of him.
Next morning, the new boys have nothing to do with Simon and his lot.
One of the trainee boys - **Glen,** while in the showers, calls **Manchit** a
“ **wog** ” and the Indian eunuch works him over for it. The **Roebuck Twins**
pummel **Wayne and Gary** when they try to come to his aid. Having mistaken
Simon and his friends for a bunch of softies, the newcomers learn a valuable
lesson. One of the Twins offers the beaten boys a hand-up.
**Glen** later tries to trip **Mark** in the pool, but Mark throws Glen in
(fully clothed) and then has to pull him back out.
Donald orders the boys to play a game of ball and then swim laps – nude – so
as the new boys can get a good look at their eunuch-peers’ naked bodies.
All of this training and exercise is good for Mark, who is still not up to
full par from having had meningitis. He is recovering very well, though, Simon
notes.
**The plan works. Three days later** , the new boys are talking about
neutering with their “Trainer Eunuchs” and hearing the ‘good things’ about it.
From there on out, they all seem to get along much better, sitting together
for meals and happily chatting. Simon still wonders of the new boys will ask
to be neutered, though.
Donald puts a revised timetable together in my head, based on the knowledge
(a) that Neutersol Rapid works very fast, but (b) the results wouldn’t begin
to appear until the three were out of the country and what was much more
important, split up and living among strangers.
**Donald lies to the new boys** , telling them they are going on a special
mission like 007, spies. The timetable is revised to **four weeks** to allow
them to learn enough French. The boys buy it.
**Some time later** , the boys are sedated and have their balls pricked while
asleep. None of them even wake up or make a sound. The next day, they try in
vain to hide their constant erections.
Next night, Donald delivers the three boys to a man named **Aristide** at
**Molyneux Junction train-station**. It is a starry and cold night. The three
new boy-eunuchs are shipped out, never to be heard of again…?
**Four months pass,** as **Simon and company “train” twelve more boys** to be
eunuchs. The boys are shipped out when deemed ready. Schoolwork and lessons,
as well as physical training and recreation are seen to at the facility. The
boys have plenty to do.
Donald begins to miss Paraguay, South America.
Max Riche and Donald chat on the phone. Max has just arrived back from
Argentina.
Donald is missing his thirty-some usual protégés and the warm climates,
finding the troglodyte lifestyle of the Center and the six ‘all-business’
eunuchs to be unnerving. They view it as an extension of school, speak only
when spoken to, etc., and not are not “exuberant” enough for Donald.
**Simon is caught watching straight video porn, of two teens, on a computer.
He is “sick with frustration” at watching what he longs to do, and cannot.**
Simon finds out the hard way that castration may or may not do away with
sexual urges. He snaps at the Captain, who decides to leave him alone.
Missing Melanie makes it all the more painful for Simon.
**Max Riche offers Donald** , whom we find is his acquaintance of over two
years, **a job in exporting eunuch boys to Nazi heirs in** **South America**.
Donald vehemently refuses, citing that he must draw the line somewhere. His
true feelings that he is giving boys a better life by having them neutered and
exported finally comes through. Max is not impressed, citing the “need to keep
the punters happy.”
Max figures no one would touch the Nazi deal, anyway, and compliments Donald
(surprisingly) on his morals and ethics.
**Captain Donald is transferred** to be the military attaché in the **Gilbert
and Ellice Islands**. He is shocked to find out that he is to ‘respectable’,
finally, and that the crime of neutering boys there carries the death penalty
if caught.
**Simon and his friends return to their normal school lives after almost the
whole of the Autumn term at the Westward-Ho Center**. They are reminded that
they are "back in school now." Double-PE takes place on Saturday mornings.
Simon, citing weak wrists and such, has an accident on the horizontal beam in
the Gym. He comes down square on the beam, right between the legs. Despite
being a eunuch, this jars his spine and Simon becomes very ill. The Janitor
cleans up and Nurse takes Simon away for a poultice and bed rest - preceded by
a very relaxing enema the he enjoys.
Memories of Cecco and the first time he saw him in a painting come to mind as
Simon broods, thankful that he lives in the 21st century and not in the days
when boys had their testicles burnt out with hot irons. He remembers the
painting, and how worried he was about being neutered. He contemplates the
thought that **some of the boys neutered, back then, must have died of a
broken heart** instead of shock or infection.
Roddy Fisher has adapted to School well and has his own circle of friends,
including: Colin Hislop's little brother, Calum, & **Michael Banner**. Several
Senior Boys have crushes on Roddy and the lot, but they never get anywhere
with them. Simon describes their pleasures as "innocent."
Roddy concentrates on his new interest of surveying, when he's not recording
in the studio. Uncle Carl buys him a new theodolite.
**Mark** comes to visit Simon in the Infirmary. He tells his friend about
taking his Aunt Freda to court, and that he is now homeless. After Mark's
round of meningitis, and losing his voice, the old bitty tries to throw him
out and take his money. Mark's lawyers send HER packing, but Mark must find a
new place to live. **He asks to move in with Simon at his and Roddy's house,
overseen by Uncle Carl**. Simon joyfully accepts.
Simon describes Mark's body as "good to look at." Mark is doing well, although
he can't sing and sometimes has trouble talking. " **Operation Made Safe** "
was incremental in his recovery.
More of Mark's older unreleased work is voiced-over with Roddy, and sales are
climbing. Mark cites that he has plenty of money, and Roddy is doing all the
work and gaining fame.
Mark cites that his producers knew his voice would change, but he doesn’t' say
how. Obviously, they don't know he's a eunuch.
By June, according to Mark, the stem-cell experiment to reverse his castration
will be ready. Simon is worried about this, and thinks it might well fail due
to the effects of Neutersol on the erectile nerves.
**Martin Mooney** , a day boy, is raped by the janitor, one **Mr. Meggarty**.
Martin is very stupid, overweight, and Simon doesn't like him. Mooney once
confronted Simon about his neutering, saying, "There's something wrong with
you, Scott, isn't there?" Simon is very put out by this, citing that boy-
eunuchs simply "ARE", meaning there's nothing 'wrong' with it and no one
faults them for it.
All of the Masters dread having Mooney in class. On one assignment for species
observed on the wing, the boy writes "Boeing 777".
Mooney is brought to the Infirmary by Nurse, who blows Simon a kiss.
Simon decides that **if any boy _should_ be neutered, it should be Martin
Mooney, to take him OUT of the gene pool**! Martin's parents own and operate a
local store.
Martin slowly describes his rape by Meggarty to Simon. Simon finds it much
like watching paint dry. Meggarty is described as about 60, bald, squat, grey-
faced, and bristly - an unattractive specimen. The old man likes to tease boys
with, "Like it up yer bum, do yer? Har, har, har!"
Meggarty has been arrested once for such, but the boy who complained was a
criminal and not believed. Meggarty gets away with no time or charges.
Mooney says the attack took place at **Sixfields, an abandoned airport** 3
miles from School and Mecca for wildlife studies.
Simon tells Nurse, who is stunned. She takes a swab, and Simon convinces
Martin to not tell. He begins to form a plan.
Simon contemplates Martin's rape vs. what Uncle Carl and others have done to
him. While it isn't the same thing, he feels that in a way, it is. It is very
confusing to him.
Later, at 7 o'clock, Nurse returns to give Simon another enema.
**Sunday** - Roddy begins leading the Decani side of Choir in Mark's place.
Manchit Khannah, a Hindu, is excused and in the library. During this time,
Simon notices a new choirboy, **Paul Abbott** , and comes to the decision that
Paul should be neutered. Paul seems to be a good singer and mischievous. Simon
wonders WHY is he is thinking this, yet proceeds to plan Paul's later
neutering.
Simon finds Manchit after Choir. Manchit tells him that Meggarty attacked a
boy named **Adam Logan** once, but the boy got away with only a torn shirt.
Manchit brings up Uncle Carl in the plan to get Meggarty caught.
**Winter Sundays** , dark at four, long and boring. Simon hates them and
wonders HOW he is going to get to see Uncle Carl. As luck would have it, Carl
shows up in his new gunmetal-gray Aston-Martin. So much for the Jaguar!
**Uncle Carl, aka. Lord Manningham and viscount** , prefers to be not so
formally addressed.
Carl announces a new business venture and wants to take Simon out to talk
about it. Simon brings Manchit along, mainly to keep from being seduced by his
Uncle. He is still confused about his sexuality.
Carl takes the two boys to **The Grand** , and talks to Manchit in his native
tongue of **Telugu** along the way. Manchit is very impressed.
The big news is that Uncle Carl has bought and restored an old house just
across the border from **Lymington Haven**. He plans to call it **_THE SIMON
SCOTT CENTRE_**. It is to be a country club and retreat as well. Simon is to
have a block of shares, a room and board, and income from it. Manchit is VERY
impressed.
The boys tell Carl about Martin Mooney being raped. They form a plan to have
Meggarty grab Manchit, while Simon gets evidence, pictures, etc. Later, Carl
will show up after coordinating it with cell phones with the boys, bringing
the police.
The plan works, and Manchit does some kind of sexual Indian trick to Meggarty,
immobilizing him and leaving him in great pain. He refuses to tell Simon what
he did, citing only that he learned it while at Temple as an Acolyte.
Meggarty gets arrested and sentenced to four years. Simon thinks he should
have gotten more than that.
Martin Mooney goes AWOL. It turns out, the dull boy hopped a train - a cross
country train! Seems he was investigating a car when it took off with him and
he just rode it.
**End of term** - Simon packs and goes 'home'. Roddy and Mark follow on a
later train, giving their friend time along to think.
**2 hours later** - Melanie shows up in the Rover. After being gone for so
long, wild sex ensues! She missed Simon very much.
Simon tells Melanie all about **Paul Abbott** and how he must be neutered.
Melanie heartily agrees, and it makes her so horny talking about that she can
hardly stand it!
Melanie falls into her Dominatrix role and orders Simon to get ready, which
means an enema, for a session of " **Ride the Gelding**." Melanie introduces
Simon to a new dildo. He is cursing the thought of it as she mounts him and
puts it up his bum. It feels enormous, but Simon is obedient and agrees to it.
**The new dildo causes Simon to have his first all-out full orgasm of his life
via his prostate**. It makes him collapse, and he is frightened to the point
of even scaring Melanie. He is determined that if **the only way that he can
ever orgasm** is to have a **penis or dildo up his bum** , then he **_NEVER_**
wants to have another one.
**Christmas Morning** - Simon is prepared for a quiet time, but guests come.
All of the boys from School with nowhere to go for Christmas are invited over
for dinner by Uncle Carl. Simon soon notices that as Jack Elliot once said,
there aren't a pair of knackers amongst them!
Beneath an 8-foot tree, Simon finds most of his presents are clothes - which
he needs and likes. All of the other boys have presents as well. Mark's are
mainly music related, and Roddy's new Christmas CD plays in the background.
Simon worries about Mark, and wonders how many girls are drooling over Roddy's
voice, not knowing that he is a eunuch.
Dinnertime - most of the boys eat themselves into oblivion and are put to bed
here and there by Mrs. Hodges, the housekeeper.
**Boxing Day** - Uncle Carl **proposes** a trip to the new Club he's done up.
Simon doesn't tell about the name of it, and no one notices the plaque with
his name on it. Carl shows them Simon's new room, and Jack is very impressed.
The room beyond appears to be full of junk, until a light reveals that it is a
massive model railway for the club from School to use. Sandie Ross is beside
himself. **Simon notices that his old model train is running, the old
Burlington and Northern Diesel** , and becomes a bit misty at seeing it.
Simon cannot figure out WHY, as he looks over the place, that Uncle Carl has
done this for him. He also can't understand why he treats him so, encouraged
his neutering, and uses him as a lover. It makes no sense to Simon.
**New Years Resolution** - To get Paul Abbott neutered with Melanie helping!
**April that following Spring** - Simon is at the Centre again, and it is all
done and open for business. **People seem to know who Simon is**. Following an
odd noise, Simon finds a bronze nude statue of himself in the gardens. But the
statue is made as an intact boy, not a eunuch. Simon considers evening the
score with a torch! He also wonders at the Cherubs and Putti here and there,
with their sturdy genitals, all intact. He thinks of how their real life
counterparts would have been "suitably pruned" down there to prevent them from
doing this and that. Yet immortalized in marble, they are not. Simon thinks of
"Artistic License."
**( _Simon's Revenge_ )
**
Melanie gets a new digital camera. She sends Simon a very erotic print.
**Late April, Sunday** - While talking with Paul Abbott, Simon realizes that
his penis has shrunk to just over an inch.
Roddy goes in town, and takes the wrong bus back. He gets lost.
has a very special feature - it **has the highest proportion of boy eunuchs of
any boarding school anyplace else in the county.**
Being exposed to boy eunuchs every day begins to "get to" Paul Abbott. We
learn that he has a girlfriend, **Donna** , but that he is unable to do much
of anything with her, sexually.
Simon suggests a chat with Roddy Fisher, after telling Paul what he can.
**Paul surprises Simon by referring to Roddy as talented and beautiful**.
Simon and Paul attend tea, at Mr. Carter's insistence. Roddy is absent.
**Dr. Holroyd** sends for Simon, when the Dr. is unable to locate Lord
Manningham (Uncle Carl). Uncle Carl doesn't like to use that title. The Dr.
tells Simon that Roddy has been brutally attacked and is in the hospital.
Roddy's injuries include being beaten with a large stick, trampled by spiked
running shoes, and being gang raped. He is found by **Mr. Jackson near St.
Augustine's Church** after being beaten and left.
Simon receives permission, and goes to visit Roddy in hospital the next day.
At this time, Carl is abroad again.
Mark is also abroad, visiting Professor Zuniger at Goettingen University for
another treatment in having his neutering reversed. The Professor is
optimistic; Simon is not.
Simon visits Roddy in the hospital. It turns out that the little boy grabbed
the wrong bus and wound up in the wrong part of town. (Roddy is little for his
age.)
Roddy tells his story to Simon - he was attacked by three boys in black school
uniforms. The uniforms had an emblem much like a rocket on them, as perceived
by Roddy.
**Simon fears that Roddy may be suicidal, after being raped again** , since he
was used a sex toy by his adoptive older brother when he was taken in by the
Knight-Foxes.
Quite upset, Simon bids Roddy goodbye with a soft kiss on the cheek and stops
off at the **school outfitters, Souter's**. He identifies the uniform as that
of **St. Anselme's Diocesan Catholic Upper School**. Simon knows nothing of
this mysterious school. They do not play them at rugby, or anything else.
Simon seeks out **Jimmy Brotherton** , "the fount of all local knowledge."
Jimmy refers to St. Anselme's as "the leper colony". **No one goes to St.
Anselme's if they can avoid it**. The school even takes day boys from the
local **residential care facility (Beechwood** ) and boys released for school
under **Youth Custody**.
Jimmy then makes a comment to Simon that "boys like you" left their mark on
history. **Jimmy seems to know a lot about eunuchs**.
As Simon goes off thinking about this comment, he thinks of the something that
he learned from Classical Greek, which he has just begun to study: "The glory
of youth is ruined," a comment made by **Aeschylus. Aeschylus** was referring
to castration.
There are no plans on neutering Jimmy, according to Simon.
A white-faced, nervous, second-former finds Simon, and tells him that Matron
is looking for him.
**Conjecture that Nurse** , formerly, has been promoted to Matron now.
Simon reports to the san for his usual enema session. He is not impressed to
find that **Matron has taken to wrapping a tight elastic band around the base
of the little penises of the eunuch boys to prevent them from wetting on her
floor.** She states that boy eunuchs have little to no bladder control, which
Simon finds ridiculous. **_No mention of WHO wet on the floor_** during his
enema. Simon is helpless to do anything about this humiliating process,
however, and endures it.
Simon, after being cleansed and dismissed by Matron, asks Mr. Trefusis and Dr.
Holroyd why they don't play St. Anselme's. He is informed that St. Anselme's
belief is to come out on top, come hell or high water. They have no played
them since the debacle of a **Rugby** **Union Final in 1998**. No one would
touch them afterwards.
**Simon is given "full latitude of discretion** " by Dr. Holroyd in
identifying Roddy's attackers after he tells them what he knows already.
It seems that the Staff is already aware of Simon's talents at sleuthing.
Simon investigates the School after hours (it is a day school) and finds a
great amount of hateful graffiti painted on a wall there.
Simon returns to his own school and finds **Graham "Jack" Elliot** , who
rounds everyone up for the " **council of war** ".
**Little Calum Hislop, a eunuch by mumps,** suggests infiltration. "It takes
one to find one," he declares.
**Calum chooses Michael Banner, Christopher Foulkes, Elliott minor, Jan
Raxworthy, Sean Ellison, and Peter Forster**. All of these boys are on the
small side, and not really noticeable. (Elliot minor is not Graham "Jack"
Elliot. Elliot minor's only claim to fame is having been neutered with no
local anesthetic, which he claims didn't hurt much at all.)
**Next day -** Mark returns from Prof. Zuniger's. He shows Simon the work so
far, and is now wearing pale blue boys' briefs, Y-front, instead of girls'
white underwear.
Simon is shocked to see that **Mark now has a penis and a scrotum** , which
appears to be full. Mark explains that he has **neoprene implants** , to
stretch his scrotum. Simon deems Mark's extended penis (lowered by a ligament
cut) as small and limp, but a penis all the same. Mark also states that his
voice, ruined by meningitis, is returning to a good alto form. He informs
Simon that his **new testicles, being grown via stem-cell culture, are
developing nicely**.
Simon shares his plan to identify those who attacked Roddy, with Mark. All
they can do is wait for " **The Magnificent Seven** " to infiltrate and come
back with information.
**That evening** - Roddy comes back to the san at school. To Nurse's
disappointment, he is under strict orders for **NO ENEMAS**.
Simon goes to visit Roddy in the san. Roddy is a bit depressed, "sore", as
Simon tells it, about his circumcision. While Roddy was ecstatic to lose his
balls, he is not happy with his circumcision nor having been repeatedly
sodomized and now beaten up. Simon gives him a kiss goodbye and warns him that
Paul Abbott will be by to talk.
Paul talks to Roddy, then finds Simon. Simon shows him a picture of Melanie,
taken with her new digital camera. She is holding up a **burdizzo**. Paul is
stunned and wants to meet her.
**Calum Hislop** , effervescent and about to burst with news, finds Simon and
tells him what they've found.
Calum and his party **locate four boy eunuchs at St. Anselme's. Laurie Lloyd**
, dark hair, is the only one whose full name we find out. **Lloyd** informs
Simon's spies that eunuch boys are badly treated at St. Anselme's, and are
often beaten. One of them even has a front tooth missing. Another of them,
**Bertie** , has recently been beaten up.
**Sean Ellison** turns out to be one of the last boys neutered by Dr. Jolly.
**Laurie Lloyd** gives the names of Roddy's attackers as **Keith Medford**
(The Crusher, looks like Dracula with his teeth), along with **Derek Robinson
and Liam Halloran**. They are all pre-release from Young Offenders.
**Lloyd also describes how he was an orphan at a local orphanage, where ALL of
the boys are neutered by "having their balls pricked** ". This is to keep them
from messing around with the girls. One boy in Lloyd's party seems rather lean
and hungry and anxious. Simon recognizes that look - being unable to DO
anything with girls is driving him wild!
Trying to think of a plan for revenge, **Simon** visits St. Augustine's
Church, where Roddy was found. **He endures a moment, a crisis of faith, in
which he doubts if there is a God.** He can't understand why the things that
have happened to him and his friend, namely being neutered, was allowed to
happen at all. He finds that there was indeed a **witness, one Mrs. Emma
Nostell** , who lives across the way with her disabled husband. Having grown
up on a farm, she recognizes the signs of boy eunuchs and is very put out with
how Roddy was beaten and left. His attackers also befouled her flower gardens
regularly. She agrees to meet with Uncle Carl, who is, of course, a
Magistrate. Simon has tea with her, and persuades her to testify.
Simon meets with the Staff and presents the idea of inviting St. Anselme's to
a competition, which will take place on the University's neutral grounds.
**Mr. Carter knows Mr.** **Campbell** **, the head of Athletics at** **St.**
**Anselme's** , and helps set it up.
Uncle Carl and Mrs. Nostell are to be briefed and ready at the meet. Carl's
return from abroad, on what business, is NOT specified.
Simon later calls Melanie on his cellular and finds that the Neutersol Company
has sent her a free sample of Neutersol Plus. They arrange a meeting in the
hotel to neuter Paul Abbott, much like they did Tommy Chow. They call it "
**The Holiday Inn Arrangement**."
**Next weekend** - Simon and Melanie take Paul to the hotel, where Melanie
neuters him with the Neutersol Plus. She floods herself in excitement again,
but does manage to get it done.
Paul is quiet on the train back. Simon wonders how Donna will take it.
**Three weeks later** - **Early May** , a lovely Saturday afternoon at the
University. **Simon spies Paul Abbott kissing Laurie Lloyd** , and realizes
that Paul is really gay. Simon wonders just what it is that the two boy
eunuchs plan to do with one another, though!
Simon is entered for the **800 meter run**. It is his **best** event.
The boys from St. Anselme's don't do so well in any events. They are either
clumsy, disregard the rules, or are out of shape.
**Derek Robinson insults the Roebuck Twins** between events. Jon throws him
when he is barged by Derek and dislocates his shoulder. Liam Halloran comes to
help, and is worked over by Jamie. Liam is left with either a busted femur or
dislocated hip, Jamie isn't sure which. He'd never used that throw before.
Paramedics are called, and Mrs. Nostell identifies Derek and Liam to **DI
Samuelson** , who takes them into custody.
**Crusher** , still at large, had not been doing well at the meet. He turns up
looking for his mates, sees the police and Mrs. Nostell, and runs off. Simon
pursues him.
Crusher is not match for Simon, who runs him down on a broken bridge with a
large section gone. Murderous with rage, Simon screams at him to jump it.
Whether from fear of the police or the goading of a eunuch, Crusher jumps. He
falls.
Crusher falls into the power lines below, is electrocuted, and falls onto
train tracks below the bridge. His body is torn in half by a passing train as
Simon looks on.
Simon takes one look down and vomits.
Simon cleans up and receives a gold medal for the 800M; the Roebuck Twins take
silver and bronze. Uncle Carl points out that Simon's running shorts are
nearly transparent, and while on the podium, everyone got a good look at
Simon's parts, or lack thereof.
Simon and the choir perform a Requiem Mass for Crusher, but Roddy is not
there; he is not well enough as it is and it would have been too much. Crusher
is written off with "death by misadventure."
**Uncle Carl takes over the running of St. Anselme's** , much to Simon's
chagrin. He can only wonder WHY he'd want to! Big changes are planned for that
school, which the Staff of Southdown refers to as a "hellhole".
**Hugh Cameron** reads “ **The Alteration** ” by **Kingsely Amis** and takes
up choir.
**_Editor's Note: PURE CONJECTURE_** - While it is never mentioned, Simon HAS
been thinking about at least ONE private enterprise in the exportation of boy-
eunuchs for servants to the upper class here and there and around the world.
He knows of ONE ring for sure, and is getting suspicious. (Read " **Made Safe
1 and 2** "). In the duty of finding out Roddy's attackers and bringing them
to justice, however, this thought is dismissed quickly. **
**
**Late May, at the Simon Scott Centre** - at Uncle Carl's Suite. Simon meets
**Marcia** , a young girl being trained up by Uncle Carl for 'something'.
Marcia states that she knows who Simon is, but that she wouldn't want to DO IT
with a boy anyway.
Simon learns that Paul Abbott, in the company of Laurie Lloyd, has gotten into
selling his body for money with older men. **Paul is caught in a sting, but
Laurie escapes**. **Paul is put in rehab** , where he is constantly deluged by
straight-sex videos and such featuring Asian girls and boy eunuchs. He is
quite miserable and begs Simon for help.
Simon asks Uncle Carl about what will happen to Derek and Liam. He is
expecting them to "have their balls pricked," but is shockingly disappointed
to find that they won't. Uncle Carl explains what a wonderful thing that
neutering is for boys, and what it has done for Simon. He cites that **Simon
is fast on the way to becoming a celebrity** , pointing out his many
adventures and awards, and cites that these two don't deserve to be neutered.
It would provide, Uncle Carl, says, competition for Simon.
Derek and Liam are taken back into custody. Uncle Carl orders them to be
"birched".
When Simon hears all of this, he runs to the window and bursts into tears,
thinking that his Uncle has missed the point totally.
**November – “Simon Takes Stock” –** Simon plays rugby in the cold and mud,
takes a hot shower.
**Hugh Cameron,** almost **12** , cricket fan, asks Simon about castration.
**Hugh** is almost a twin of the boy in the painting “ **Young England** ”.
Hugh has a Clyde Coast accent, is intact, and isn’t supposed to be showering
with eunuchs. Intact and gelded boys are to shower separately, to prevent
“inappropriate sexual behavior”. At Mr. Trefusis’ referral, Hugh seeks out
Simon to discuss his future career as a choir soprano. Simon is not impressed
that he has to deal with the dirty work.
Simon explains the ball-pricking procedure to Hugh. Hugh is surprised to learn
that he would retain his penis as well. He is also surprised to find out, that
while he hasn’t had a girlfriend yet, that he will no longer be able “to enjoy
a wank” after neutering. Hugh reports having dry orgasms.
**_Something inside Simon snaps –_** like the Greek boy eunuch **Hermotimus**
from **Herodotus’ Histories,** Simon realizes that he too is a “nothing” – not
male, not female.
**Paul Abbott** , one of the boys Simon helped to have neutered, is still
undergoing psychiatric care.
**Next day –** Hugh writes Simon a note saying that he doesn’t want to be
neutered anymore and is going for a **Naval Cadetship**. Simon surmises that
Hugh will be buggered rotten in the Navy anyway.
**Simon** retires to Juniors’ dayroom, where he finds – in a collection of
women’s magazines – an article about himself. ** “Auntie Jennifer
Remembers”**, after a quick scan by Simon, turns out to be about Simon
himself. Simon is not impressed.
**“They tell me that my nephew Simon is doing very well these days,”** the
article begins, quoting Jennifer Saunderson.
**Mark Maitland** back from his last surgery in Germany, where he has new
testicles grown from stem cell culture implanted via experimental surgery.
Mark is deemed as sexually 7 years old. He has yet to experience an erection
with his “new repaired” genitals. Estimates place the start of **puberty for
Mark at age 20-21**.
Simon and Mark meet at the old Knight-Fox house, which is not well kept up.
While still clean, Simon feels it to be forlorn. Mark shows Simon his ‘new’
genitals, telling him look but don’t touch. **Mrs. Hodges,** the housekeeper,
has left them tea and a snack.
Simon and Mark watch a typical porno video. Simon becomes increasingly
frustrated at his desire, but lack of ability to fuck girls.
Mark leaves early before Simon, leaving him a note reminding him of his duty
with the junior model railroad club.
**Later, at the Simon Scott Centre-** Simon finds Marcia in his room. Marcia
is the protégé of Carl. She has a maser pass key.
**Marcia seduces Simon** , who performs devastating oral sex on her. Marcia
then gets Simon to take off his underwear, a small white thong.
Marcia is amazed by Simon’s eunuch state. She had no idea, she admits.
Simon loses his temper and throws Marcia out. He then sobs for quite some time
in realizing that he has cheated on Melanie. It never recurs to him that
Melanie once cheated on him with a “real boy”.
Simon visits his bronze look-alike statue in the garden. The statue has a full
bag, unlike Simon.
Simon prepares to leave on the bus with the junior railway club. He is joined
by one **Michael Cribb** , a cheery freckled 11-year old.
Cribb is not impressed with Simon, obviously expecting more of the “great”
Simon Scott. Cribb almost talks Simon senseless.
Simon returns to school and retrieves the magazine with the article in it.
Jennifer Saunderson states that Carl (Manningham) Scott was attached to a
section of the Foreign and Commonwealth Office and doing work overseeing
international human-rights legislations.
Jennifer claims, in the article, that Simon “owes is all to me” for how
successful he now is.
Simon’s thoughts are interrupted by **Michael Cribb** and his friends, in
search of cocoa, when Cribb says, **_“Is it true that Simon Scott is an ‘it’ –
him and that other 4 th-year he hangs out with?”
_**
Cribb’s statement and Jennifer’s article weigh heavily on Simon’s mind as he
wanders outside.
**Simon** comes to realize, and think of himself, as a ‘nothing’. He also
comes to believe that **he owes NOTHING to ANYONE**.
**To be continued?!**
** Counter +8792**
---
* * *
` |
Boxers and Flip Flops | TESTICLES | High School Kids are told about the Male Neutering Clinics when in their PE Classes, they must report for castration! | Flip Flops and Boxers
© By Steve Aldea
We entered a locker room area where we stood in flip flops and our boxer’s
nuts to butts next to the guy in front of us. Assembly line castration just
like in the days of vasectomy’s. For as each man stood forward he dropped his
boxers and held them in his hand as the medic tech gave him a few shots of
pain killer into his ball sack and asked the man to spread his legs a bit
wider. Without much fan fair, the medic made about a half of an inch incision
in the bottom of the scrotum pulling out the testicles an clamping the cords.
Two Suture ties were done high on the cords and a place where the snip could
take place. Snip Snip was all to it and the guy was a fresh Eunuch. After the
man was sewed up his scrotum; was bandaged and he put back on his boxers and
you heard them call for the next man in line to step forward. The night I was
there were about 150 or so guys getting castrated for the good of the nation.
Some as young as 16 years old who have nice low hung scrotums were the easiest
to castrate. I met up with some of the guys and went over to a local pub for a
few beers and to celebrate our accomplishment of becoming Eunuchs.
You were taught as freshmen in boys Physical Education classes to wear your
jock-straps to protect your balls; the coach would even have jock-strap checks
by having you show your strap by pulling up you r PE shorts to show. You were
also taught about non breeding men to become Eunuchs as soon as your balls had
dropped in their sacks. You were reminded of where the Eunuch Clinics were
located around and when the hours were which in most cases came about to the
evening hours from 7pm to 11 pm nightly. Sometimes after a football game in
early fall you would see some jocks from one of the high schools stroll over
to the center. You did not need any special permission from any Medical Docs,
each year you got your balls examined for sports in a line of 50 or so guys
and the MD usually told you where to go to get your nuts cut. Some days you
would see guys in the gym showers without balls talking about how easy it was
to get castrated. Most of the Fella’s were delighted to show up with their
buddies, boxers and flip flops in the locker changing room were the only thing
required in the clinic, some guys wanted to go nude but most guys were modest
to wear boxers and flip flops. Man it was such a great showing every day for
each freshman to Senior to get nutted at the Clinic. There was no real
pressure, you knew what you were required to do, and it was for the best and
helped population control out as well made it better to study in school with
getting a Hormone Patch to control your erections and sexual desires. When
some of the Football Players and Wrestlers came in the evening I went to the
Clinic, many of them were pulling their puds trying to get one last nut off
before their balls were cut. I knelt down in front of a few of them and sucked
them off for their final loads of cum, it was mighty tasty for jock cum after
a game I thought to then get castrated. I was standing in line with a few of
them when I felt one dude’s pud sticking me at the crack of my ass. He
massaged my shoulders and whispered in my ear he knew I was a fag, I played
sports, and he wanted to corn hole my tight ass after we got nutted. I had
just given him and a few of his buds earlier some cum relieving work out, he
had another load of to explode afterwards in my tight ass. I said I liked
girls mostly; guys were okay, mostly jocks I played with.
At a later date I noticed a few of the jocks got prosthetic balls, and it was
real hot seeing them circle jerk Cuming with clear prostate fluid; Auh what
memories’ of my Youth in the twenty first century, I write about I hope it was
a good experience for the rest of the fellas in my graduating class as it was
for me.
XXXXXXXXX
* * * |
Cutter's Ball Part One | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES | A cutter enjoys an unusual convention | Cutter’s Ball Part 1
By: Special
As I trotted up the stairs leading to the convention hall, I happened to
glance at my watch. Having arrived with plenty of time to spare, I decided to
take a roundabout way to the auditorium where mom and Edith will be giving
their presentation. I certainly wasn’t going to be late for that. I know how
important some good moral support is when the eyes of the most recognizable
cutter’s in the country are upon you.
The reception desk was manned by a couple of very pretty young women, and they
simply smiled as I passed and they noted I already had a name tag and identity
card for the N.U.T.S. convention.
N.U.T.S. is the acronym for the National Union of Testicular Studies, an elite
and covert organization of which I’m a proud member. It’s a closed association
of cutters and others in similar occupations and environments from the various
regions of the country. We are indeed branching out Internationally though,
and several European cutters are attending this year’s convention.
The fact is, ninety percent of the contract castrations I perform are arranged
through the organizations booking agents. They are the ones that bring clients
and cutters together, and they also make the special arrangements that clients
often request. A well-planned castration is seldom a simple affair. My friend
and frequent cutting partner Edith just happens to be both an agent and a well
known cutter. That alone has my cutting schedule rather well booked, and also
it affords me opportunity to choose to do the type of castrations that I get
the most personal satisfaction from performing. That satisfaction being a
fierce orgasm or two as I relieve desperate and needy men of their balls.
Regular sex with two boyfriends and the frequent encounters with the continual
stream of men coming to me for their castrations, also manages to keep my
considerable libido in check.
As I round the first corner and encounter the initial row of vendor stalls, I
spot a couple old friends, Dahlia and Reg from Tampa. Besides being agents
that book almost all of the Florida castrations, they also are strong
promoters of the eunuch lifestyle. My mother castrated Reg several years ago,
and quite recently he had very large stainless steel balls inserted into his
scrotum. As I approached his stall, he was proudly showing off the two
pronounce bulges in his low slung scrotum to a keenly interested older couple.
The wife was very impressed with the look, and I simply waited to say hi until
they had asked all the questions they wanted. The woman seemed even more
pleased when Dahlia raved on and on about Reg’s supercharged libido from the
injected hormone replacement therapy he received, and her eyes were glued to
Reg’s stiffening cock. The couple had the look of wanting to book a castration
immediately.
“Are those even bigger than last year?” I laughed as Reg turns to greet me and
his balls roll and dangle along his thigh.
“Yeah, I think they’re growing!” he laughed. “Good to see you again Karin, and
you’re looking more beautiful every year.”
“Easy Tiger,” Dahlia playfully shot in Reg’s direction as she noticed his cock
continuing to stiffen. “You don’t want to be running around with an empty bag
again do you?”
We joked and talked a little, doing a bit of catch-up from not seeing each
other for months. We also discussed business, and I learned that bookings are
brisk in Florida, especially during the winter with all the snowbirds
shuttling back and forth. I’m amazed that more and more men are combining a
vacation with their castrations. I’ll have to consider a move to a warmer
climate.
With a final wave to Dahlia and Reg, I continued on down the row of vendors
toward the far end of the hall.
I was almost to the end of the wide hallway, and just past the last vendor
stall when I seen her, a strikingly beautiful young woman in tall black boots,
a black leather bustier, and matching hot-pants. She’s leading a prancing
pony-boy around the corner, and they entered a room just to the right of the
adjoining hallway. What really caught my attention was the brilliant glittery
tail on the pony-boy. It had to be a butt-plug of considerable dimensions to
support a tail like that. Of course the long flowing mane and well fitted
leggings were just as dashing, and you could see the obvious pride in his gait
Curiosity got the best of me, and I followed the pair into the room.
The moment I entered I knew what was taking place. It was a free clinic set up
especially for the convention where women could have their pony-boy’s gelded
free of charge if they signed up for demonstrations. Lots of castrations would
be performed over the next two days in just such a manner. In fact Mom and
Edith were going to be castrating free clients as they demonstrated their
techniques to the other cutters.
There were several ponies already tied to a rail along one side of the large
room, and I could see them standing slightly bow-legged with drooping cocks
and empty bags. They had already endured the cutter’s blade, and they stood
quietly as a young female cutter tended to the gashes on their shriveled
scrotums.
There was a cluster of women gathered around the cutting arena, several in
skimpy outfits. Others simply wore their riding attire, complete with tight
jodhpurs and polished boots. I noticed one particularly well dressed young
woman in light tan jodhpurs with a damp spot showing at the tight fitting
crotch, and I knew she’d been observing most of the castrations.
I wormed my way to the front as the woman I followed led her pony toward the
arena. As I managed to divert my eyes from his impressive scrotum, swinging
with considerable authority given the cargo of large testicles, I saw the
wild-eyed look as he suddenly shied and reared as he saw where she was leading
him. Two women in riding attire stepped forward to assist, and with their
additional weight against the bridle, and of course a few harsh licks with
riding crops, the pony behaved.
The women led him beside what appeared to be some sort of large double ended
sawhorse. Two powerfully built women shoved the wooden structure under the
pony and secured his legs tightly with leather restraints. With the pony-boy
restrained and a ball gag in place, I saw a woman appear from behind a false
wall to one side of the arena. She was a very plain looking redhead, with
beefy arms well-covered with freckles. She only wore a yellow apron, already
well spattered with droplets of blood from what I assumed were prior
castrations, and tall leather boots. Her hands were covered with thick blue
latex gloves and clenched in her right hand was a wicked looking knife, large
enough to be easily used for carving a fine ham and totally beyond anything
required for a castration. It did have quite an effect on the ladies as well
as the pony-boy. The pony-boy fought and struggled as she approached him, and
she smiled at him as she ran her hand down his flank, and moved to kneel
behind his splayed legs.
The group of women closed tight as the initial cut was made, and several gasps
and sighs were heard as the first large testicle popped from the slit in the
bag. I heard a groan as the pony-boy struggled hard as the knife scraped
though the tough cord, eventually shredding it and freeing the testicle. The
woman simply tossed it aside onto the floor, and the dull slap of it hitting
the tiled floor drew all eyes.
The pony-boy was struggling to lunge forward as the second cut bared his last
testicle, and I saw the bright plumage of his tail vibrate wildly as the woman
completed his emasculation. His owner was panting and had her hand driven down
the front of her brief pants, and I understood her intense desire. I heard the
unmistakable sound of several moaned orgasms as the second testicle landed
near the first on the cold tile floor.
With the fight totally gone from him, I watched as the pony-boy was led to the
railing and tied with the others. His defeated expression was obvious, and his
proud prancing gait was likely gone forever.
Feeling just a little giddy from watching, I left the cutting room and
continued down the hall toward the intimate little auditorium where mom and
Edith would soon be giving their demonstrations.
As I rounded the far corner, I saw another adjoining room with a door ajar.
Well things had been interesting in the last one, so I decided to check this
room out too.
I saw a small crowd of women clustered against the far wall, and I walked
directly over, now very curious to see what was garnering all that attention.
Working my way past a couple of the women, I could see two naked men tied to
an iron framed gantry with arms and legs widely spread in strong restraints,
and both well gagged. This was a ball-busting demonstration, and it had just
started moments ago. One of the volunteers appeared as though he hadn’t been
touched yet, and he had a full upright erection. The other was not endowed
nearly as well as the first, and his erection was at about half-mast.
A young woman emerged from the crowd and positioned herself directly in front
of the man on the right, a tall dark haired fellow with an impressive and
well-toned physique. She was dressed in a snappy little soccer uniform, and
she seemed to be working out just the correct angle. With a look of
determination on her face, she delivered a powerful full leg extension kick to
the mans dangling testicles. The flat of her cleat struck his scrotum
perfectly, driving his balls hard into his groin with a fierce thud. He reared
in his restrains, and his head swung back and forth wildly. I heard a couple
oohs from the gallery as his testicles again dangled loosely, and his cock
snapped bolt upright. The young girl displays a very smug grin as she watches
the mans cock quiver with rigidity. He couldn’t possibly get any harder.
A second girl dressed in what I assumed was a rival uniform lined up on the
second man, a far thinner and less muscular man, but with an impressively
large cock that trembled with a fierce erection from watching the previous
performance, and knowing he was about to receive the same treatment. This
girls kick was far more vicious, and just as accurate. The man bucked and
shook in his restraints, quivering violently from head to toe before slumping.
His erection quickly withered, and I watched as a cutter I knew rushed to
inspect for ruptured testicles that might require immediate removal. She gave
a thumbs up, and I knew the man’s testicles were still ok. I left before a
second kick was delivered. I knew both men, and likely several more, would
have their balls so severely damaged that castration would be their only
relief. Watching the display had taken the edge off my arousal, and I was
almost normal as I walked out of the room.
I noticed several cutters I recognized walking into the small auditorium where
mom and Edith would be conducting their demonstrations. Most were women, but
several men were in the crowd immediately to the right of the door.
I briefly talked to several people just outside the door, but I hurried the
conversations as I wanted a good seat. I can never get enough of watching my
mother and Edith work together. They are a superlative team, and castrated men
across the country rave about the wonderful experience they enjoyed at their
hands. My close association and frequent assists with them have been
bolstering my own reputation as well, and my bookings have steadily increased
over the past year.
I found a rather good seat, and settled in for the oratory segment of the
demonstrations. This was always conducted before everyone got up and clustered
around the gurney’s to observe the actual castrations. I smiled a greeting as
a very pretty young woman settled into the chair directly beside me.
“Hi, I’m Karin,” I said, extending my hand to her.
“I’m Thecia, pleased to meet you Karin,” She replies. “Are you familiar with
these two renowned cutters?”
“Just a little,” I laugh, “My mother is the blonde on the left.” And I point
out my mother as she stands beside Edith.
“Oh my goodness. You’re not Karin Parks are you?”
“Yes. Yes I am.”
“I’m so pleased to meet you!” Thecia gushes, “I’ve heard so much about you. I
can’t believe I’m actually sitting right beside you. It’s so wonderful to
actually meet you!”
“Whoa. I’m not accustomed to such flattery!” I reply with a laugh. “And half
of what you heard probably isn’t true anyway. Even the good parts.”
Thecia and I strike up a great little conversation. She tells me all about her
freelance cutting experiences, the fact she’s just become a member of
N.U.T.S., and that this is her first convention. I like her immediately. She’s
got a bubbly personality, and the all-over-cute looks to go with it. She’s
dressed in a sleek blue and perfectly fit skirt, daringly short, and
accompanied by a very dressy white blouse that’s just tight enough to
emphasize her ample bosom. The two open buttons on the front reveal the
beginning of the cleft between her breasts. It’s a classy yet very sexy look.
I love her shoulder length light brown hair with the curled ends, and her
mysterious dark eyes appear as though they look right into my soul as she
speaks to me. We are similarly aged, and as the conversation progresses I find
we have much in common. Namely sex, men, more sex, and naturally castration.
I’m almost disappointed as Mom and Edith begin their presentation.
Thecia clings to every work of the presentation, and as Edith winds down the
oratory, I take Thecia’s hand and lead her to where we can clearly see
everything that’s going to take place when the clients are brought out and the
actual castrations are performed. This is the part of the demonstrations all
the cutters want to observe, and learn from.
The castrations will be a little more clinical that either mom’s or Edith’s
usual methods. That means there won’t be any actual sex acts performed for the
crowd, although you can never be sure given Edith’s wild character and
overactive libido. There’s not much that appeals to her more than riding out a
man’s final ejaculation as he’s being castrated by my mother, or me for that
matter. Mom I know can control herself, and for that I can’t help but be a
little grateful. A pubic demonstration of your mother having intense orgasms
would be more than a little embarrassing.
Thecia and I are discussing the two differing techniques we’ll be observing as
the first gurney is wheeled out. The volunteer is a young man, possibly twenty
or just older, and athletically built with a well rippled torso and well
defined abs. His tousled mop of curly dark hair adds to his appeal. I find his
rock-hard erection and impressively large testicles quite appealing too.
Mom wheels her small stainless cart beside the gurney, and Edith arranged her
instruments as mom explains her technique and how she prefers the use of the
small emasculator instead of a simple scalpel removal of the testicles. She
also details how she always tries to remove the last testicle at the peak of a
man’s orgasm, and that’s what they are planning to do as a demonstration
today. The subjects erection slaps against his belly as he hears the details
of his impending procedure, and I notice a strand of pre-cum dangling from the
tip of his cock. He’s ready.
Both dressed in lab coats, Mom and Edith wait until the onlookers who want to
learn and perhaps utilize their techniques surround the cutting table. I
manage to position Thecia right in the thick of it.
Edith works the young man’s cock as mom begins. She explains everything as she
cuts, eventually working the first testicle out of the scrotum and lifting it
to show everyone. I hear Thecia suck in her breath. As mom explains the
positioning of the emasculator, Edith quickens her stroking of the young man’s
cock. He’s so hard he just has to be close to orgasm.
As mom works his other testicle out of the scrotum I see the slight rise of
his hips. The crunch of the emasculator taking the first testicle breaks the
breathless silence of the room, and the young man’s groaned beginning of
orgasm quickly follows.
Edith pumps wildly as the emasculator jaws bite into the cord of the young
man’s last testicle at the height of his orgasm, and there are many gasps of
desire in the room as the young man’s hips lunge into the air and his final
stream of semen jets skyward. He had experienced a massive ejaculation.
Thecia gasped as Edith stripped the last remnants of semen from the man’s
withering cock, and slowly licked it from her fingers.
“I think I need some air,” Thecia panted with an obvious quaver in her voice.
I assisted in getting her through the shoulder to shoulder crowd, and I fanned
her a little as she sagged into a chair.
“I was just a little giddy for a moment there,” She said.
“Of course you were,” I laughed as I continued to fan her. “I know how aroused
you are. I’m there too!”
“You mean you get…you know…”
“Of course!” I laughed. “Horny as hell! Every woman does when she watches such
an intense castration. That’s why I cut.”
“I thought I was the only one.”
“Heavens no!” I replied, “I’ll tell you about some of my experiences sometime.
Do you want to watch Edith’s presentation? It’ll be starting shortly.”
“No. I think I better sit this one out,” Thecia replied weakly. “I’m not sure
I can control myself. You go ahead though.”
“Come on…lets get you something to drink. I get to watch Edith perform any
time I want to anyway.”
“You sure? I don’t want to keep you from missing something.” Thecia said.
“I’m not missing anything, besides Edith is pretty tame in front of a crowd,
You should see her when we’re doing a guy in a private setting. She drives
those guys wild!”
As we left the auditorium, Thecia and I renewed our conversation that we were
having before the demonstration. It’s not long before she’s back to her normal
personality, and we laugh and giggle like schoolgirls as we confide to each
other how aroused we both are from watching my mothers demonstration, and we
tell each other some of the funny little things that have happened during our
cuttings. We laughed openly as she told me of fucking a man just after she
castrated his boyfriend. If the boyfriend wouldn’t have been totally spent
from a fierce orgasm during his castration, she’s have fucked him too.
Thecia and I continued talking and laughing over soda’s in the small cafeteria
set up adjacent to the auditorium, and we can hear clapping. I guessed it was
from Edith finishing up her demonstration.
“You want to go on a manhunt tonight? Thecia suddenly asked.
“A manhunt?”
“Yeah, a manhunt. You know pick up guys,” Thecia laughed. “You like guys don’t
you?”
“Yeah I like guys!” I replied, trying to sound very indignant even though I
was beginning to laugh.
“Well?”
“Sounds great. How about we check out the crowd at the Cutter’s Ball tonight?”
“The Cutter’s Ball?”
“Yeah, it’s a little mixer at a local bar for all the people that attend the
convention. Everybody shows up. It’s neat.”
“Sounds like fun, and I really really need a man tonight,” Thecia laughed.
“Me too!”
“Umm, sounds good,” Thecia replied with a particular gleam in her eye. “You
want to cut a guy tonight too?”
“That might be a little optimistic,” I laughed. “You just don’t run into guys
like that casually. At least I don’t.”
“I can pick out a guy from any crowd that wants it,” Thecia replies
confidently. “That’s how I get most of the guys I cut. I just pick them up.”
“You must be joking. You can tell a guy wants to be cut?”
“Yup, right away,” Thecia laughed, “And I’ll prove it. How about we make a
little wager?”
“Your on!”
“Ok, and let’s make it a round of drinks ok. If I don’t find us a great
looking guy to fuck and cut tonight, I’ll buy you whatever your favorite
cocktail is. How’s that for a bet.”
“Ok…that’s a bet!”
* * * |
THE TIES THAT BIND X(A) Mt. Washington Rough Riders | GAY, PENECTOMY, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION, Consensual Slavery | PartX is in two parts A & B~ A weekend on Mt. Washington opens somenew doors, heals some old wounds, and helps our Hero feel betterabout himself and his ability to love more than just one person. Twonew characters are introduced. Outlaw bikers Beryl and Blaine! | ` `
THE TIES THAT BIND~X(A)
By Waddie Greywolf
PART X(A)~Mt. Washington Rough Riders
Part I~Safe Harbor
“He can not lasso the moon for you,
my devoted slave-boy child!
But it’s quiet the only thing, I think,
Your Master can not do!”
Canto 32: Slave’s Song~W. D. Dux
I was quiet all through dinner. Masters Jeb and Jim had things to talk about
that
thankfully didn’t include me. My heart was in my throat and it became
difficult
to swallow. I kept remembering Dad’s words to me in the Dungeon but couldn’t
sort
out the full meanings. I was wallowing in a morass of self doubt and pity. I
was
glad when they had finished eating and continued talking as I cleared the
table . I
was still nude except for my plug and harness.
The two men had gotten up from the table but were still carrying on their
conversation.
I had finished in the kitchen and was walking through to the living room. A
giant
hand grabbed me and pulled my backside up against his front. Big Jim put both
arms
around my front and pulled me tightly against him as if it were the most
natural thing
he might do. He crossed his huge hands flat on my belly and above the harness
as
the two men continued their conversation as if I weren’t there. I sort of
melted into Big Jim!
The clean overpowering smell of this man was incredible. I was safe in his
arms. Did he
know? Was he reaching out because he was concerned? Why question good fortune!
For
the moment nothing could touch me. My cock cage was strained to the max with
his hot hands
holding my belly pulling me ever closer into him. Their conversation stopped
and Big Jim asked Master Jeb, “Why do we have this slave wear this harness? It
serves no purpose.”
“You were the one who put it on him and I didn’t wish to countermand your
order.” Master Jeb
replied.
“May I have the key, Jeb?” Master Jeb took the key from around his neck and
handed it to Big Jim. He unlocked the harness and gently removed it. My hard
cock stood straight up!
“There boy! You look much better without that damn thing. Your cock and balls
are too pretty
to not swing free, at least, until a Master should wish to have them removed.”
I was no longer afraid of such talk after understanding why I must surrender
even those to Master Earl.
“If my future Master requires they be removed for what ever reason, if I have
willingly signed
his contract that gives him that right, I will not question nor require an
explanation as to his decision. By signing his contract, I will have given him
that right, to do otherwise means I have not totally agreed to become his
slave.”
“Well, that’s 180 degree come around slave!” Master Jim stated.
“Yes Sir! I understand that Master; however, I have learned some things and
began to understand the passion involved in total commitment. I can’t imagine
living with anyone on
any basis without that. I never was one to go into anything half way. I have
you and Master Jeb
to thank for sharing experiences and concepts with me that have given me a new
perspective.
I am no longer afraid to make that commitment!”
Master Jim reached down and kissed me behind the neck and ear as if to
congratulate me and give me understanding at reaching these truths. He began
to rub my belly and reached down with
his huge paw to grab my cock and balls and gently pull on them. Then laughed!
“Beau, you will stay the evening with Jim. I have some work to do in my office
and need to get
to bed. I need some rest and with you as a temptation I may not get it!
Therefore, humor your old Master and spend the evening with Number Two. You
will obey him this evening!” He grabbed me away from Master Jim, hugged me,
kissed me behind he ear and said,
“I’m not sure what happened in the Dungeon this afternoon but Jake left
without saying much
and you’ve been quiet all evening! I know you too well by now, Son! Talk to
Jim!” and then he whispered, “That’s not a request slave! That’s an order!
There can be no secrets around here! You have become a valuable member of this
family! We care and we expect you to care enough
about yourself and us to share the bad with the good! I know without asking,
you understand!”
“Yes Master Jeb! I will obey! Thank you!” Master Jeb winked at me and headed
for his office.
Master Jim gathered me in his arms as I threw my arms around his thick neck
and held on. He
headed for the upstairs to his room.
“C’moan pretty slave-boy! I’ve got just the torture to take your mind off your
troubles!”
“And what might that be, Master Jim?” I said as I reached up to kiss him on
the cheek.
“Having to make love to me!” He said quietly. I couldn’t speak ! He had
dislodged the huge
lump in my throat and it was coming out my tear ducts as he threw both of us
across the big
King size bed. He held me close and gently kissed me on the forehead and the
top of my head
I used his massive chest as a rock to unload my confusion! I let it all out!
He never once tried to stop me. He just was there to comfort, understand, and
urge me to let it go, get it all out. Whether I wanted to talk or not he was
there. As my confusion began to clear my soul kept
feeding on the generosity of his gentle spirit! This Man truly was a Giant
among men. My hurt began to change to acceptance and admiration for this Man
who seemed so sadly alone in the world.
“ Why?” I asked myself! He could have any sub of his choice that walked into
any typical leather bar. They would worship at his feet as I have wanted to do
every time I’ve been around him. Once again I was poised on his event horizon
as my heart inched ever closer to the point of no return! Knowing there was no
escape from the powerful vortex that was his love. It consumed everything, not
even allowing light to escape it’s pull. I didn’t step across! I leaped
across! There are worse ways to go! I wanted to make love with this giant but
how could I have these feelings if I truly given my all to Master Earl. Was
God testing me? He picked the wrong Gay man to test!
“Jim,” I dropped the role of slave to make a strong point and let it float for
a moment, “I haven’t
stopped loving you! I will always love you even if we are apart! You will
always be my Master!
I know talk is cheap but believe me when I tell you if fate finds us together
someday I will gladly sign your contract fully expecting to lose every thing
the next day! That’s how much I love you! I would have no problem surrendering
my cock and balls if it meant I could be with you! It would be a small price
to pay for your love!” He hugged me to him and said in a soft voice,
“Some time I hurt real bad Beau, thinking about you! I know it’s my fault for
not throwing a rope around your ass the first time I saw you. You knew I fell
in love with you the minute I walked through that door. That’s why you asked
me that question! I wasn’t honest with
you and you knew it. I don’t blame you for being pissed. You had given to me
honestly and I
should have returned that honesty. Your right, the telegram was too little,
too late! I should have
rode my bike over there to your place, broken the Goddamned door down and
claimed you as
my own and fuck Jeb. Don’t think I didn’t think about it!! Then I thought.
‘Hell, that’ud scare
the crap out’a the Kid!’ I could and probably should have stood up to Jeb and
told him how I felt and may have been able to change his mind. But I didn’t!
You didn’t think I cared enough about you to fight for you. It might seem that
way but you don’t know some things about Jeb and me that precluded me from
doing that! Someday I may tell you but until then you have to at least trust
me when I tell you I just couldn’t! I pray to God every night that Jeb knows
what he’s doing. ‘Cause lying here next to you, it’s hard for me to have faith
in him anymore! I shouldn’t put this on you! It’s not your fault! I will tell
you this and it must go no further! Jeb is walking a thin line with my
patients. It just damn well may cost him my friendship! My first impulse was
to throw my shit on my bike and disappear for six months. Jeb would never
question that! I’ve done it so many times before! But I kept thinking about
you and knew running away wasn’t going to ease my pain! Then something told me
that you were going to need me to protect you from something and I had to
stay. I don’t know what but the message was strong and clear! The only thing
keeping me around is you and the chance to set things straight and maybe get a
little of your love during training! I don’t think Jeb knows how I really feel
about you. I was going to go through the motions of helping Jeb train you,
keeping my feelings to myself, hoping for any crumb you might throw my way.
For a big Man I’m not real bright sometime and wear my heart on my sleeve. I
tell myself I’m not going to let you know how I feel, ‘cause it’ll only
confuse you and undermine Jeb plans. Then when I see you, when you walk past
me, when I smell your scent, when I see you’re hurting, I can’t help myself
and want to hold you in my arms until what ever’s bothering you goes away and
I see you smile again. I’ve never felt that way about anyone before, not even
Scout. I loved Scout and always will. I couldn’t have wished for a better
partner but he had a place I was never allowed to touch. I never knew why!
Even though I took his cock and balls, I never had all of him. He tried! There
was something damaged in him my love could not repair and I felt like a
failure. When I barked at you I didn’t believe in love anymore that was why. I
got love from Scout but only what he wanted to give and not necessarily what I
needed. That’s why he finally decided to give me his cock and balls. He knew
that he was holding back and the guilt plus the fact that he wanted to love me
made him decide to give them to me. I would have never required them if he had
returned half the love I felt for him. The gift went a long way and our love
took on a new direction but it never was complete. As he lay dying in my arms
he apologized for his incomplete love and told me he would see to it that one
day I would meet the person who would give me that! I just got it in my head
the first time I laid eyes on you that it was you! That’s what prompted me to
be so bold with you that day! I guess it wasn’t meant to be, otherwise it
would have worked out for us!”
I knew in my heart I had to make love with this man and somehow I wouldn’t
betraying the love
I have for Master Earl. I began to realize I loved them equally but
differently! Was that a cop out to hang my guilt on the fence? All I knew at
that moment was that I was his and according to
Master Jeb my ass was not anchored yet!
I got myself together and looked in his Giant’s eyes. They were so big I could
see my own distorted face reflected in them. I reached up to him and gently
kissed him behind his ear and spoke in a soft voice,
“I’m sorry for both of us, Master Jim, that it’s turned out this way. I am now
committed to a good
Master whom I have fallen deeply in love with but I still have this huge hole
in my heart that only you can fill. I am sometime totally confused! I sometime
wonder what it would be like to serve
the both of you if we all lived together. It couldn’t happen! Master Earl is
an unapologetic one
on one Master! Master Jim you told me your bed was always open to me while I’m
here provided I had Master Jeb’s approval! Did you mean that?”
“Of course I did! From the bottom of my heart!”
“Then let’s make the most of the time we have to love each other! Let’s don’t
hide our feelings. I will never turn away from you if you need me! But when
the end of my training comes we both know I will be sold. I have no guarantee
I will be sold to Master Earl. I may be bought by some other Master
altogether. If that happens then I have two people I love to leave behind and
learn to love my new Master if he wants my love. And I will do that!! I would
never go into this thinking that some Master that thought enough to make the
highest bid would not be worthy of my love. I would do my damnedest to love
him and win his love!
I will sign any Master’s contract unconditionally that would purchase me. The
totality of my passion to be a slave must extend to any Master that found me
worthy enough to be his slave.”
“Now! In the spirit of honesty and openness let me say I love you more than I
want to admit! I
have held back from you because of the things you already mentioned. I felt it
was your place
to declare your love and if I did I would only be trying to trap you. Not
something I could live
with! You knew what I felt that Sunday evening you gave me that BS about a
Master winning all the time. I laid my heart on the line and I didn’t even get
crumbs. The telegram was nice but it
only confused me! Then when I come over here I’m draw to you like a magnet and
I am frustrated, confused, and angry that you have that power over me and
haven’t given me the slightest hope. You have used me for sex every time I
come over here while keeping me at arms
length. I am trying to be a good slave and as a Master and Master Jeb friend I
couldn’t say no.
Compounded by the fact that I can’t be around you longer than ten minutes and
my ass starts
dripping. I would leave here more confused and hurt! I am here now! In your
arms I feel safe and loved for the first time in our relationship! It’s a
feeling I’ve dreamed about! I offer myself and my unqualified love to be your
total slave while I’m in this house. If you feel it would please you to
administer the torture you mentioned earlier, I could not imagine anything
more wonderful! But please consider a promise to your slave, Sir!”
“And what promise would you ask, my slave?”
“That no matter how your slave begs or cries for you to stop, you will ignore
his pleas and do as
you will with him, as long as you have needs. Your slave needs to have taken
from him what you need!”
“I give you my word, slave! Now kiss your old Man!”
Master Jim, this huge Man, a Giant, that could crush me with one hand, made
the sweetest
love to me any Man could ever give or take from another. He knew where my
heart was and floated it upon his big soul to give it comfort from it’s
confusion for the evening. I kept hearing voices in my head that whispered
‘one day’, ‘not today, not tomorrow but one day’! Then the voice asked,
‘...and would you sign his contract without clause knowing, without doubt, he
would claim your manhood for his own as soon as the ink had dried upon the
paper!’
My answer to the voice, “In a Goddamned heartbeat!!”
To my surprise Master Jim moved his head down to my crotch and took all of my
proud
eight down his throat and is the only man in my life to ever do what he did
next. He stuffed
my balls into his mouth with the rest of me and gently began to knaw around
the base of both cock and balls! Then he would clamp his teeth and pull up and
back as if he were waiting for me to give him the word: He would relieve me of
them and simply spit them out into a waiting stainless steel pan. The third
time he pulled on them with his teeth, I told him I couldn’t
take another. Then my fantasy saw him kissing me with his bloody mouth so I
could taste the
controlled violence of his action in my own blood and fluids! He knew I was
close and pulled on them again with his teeth tightly clamped down!
I shot a huge load down his throat and he sucked and moaned as he felt my male
fluids hit the
back of his throat and began to slide slowly down toward his stomach. He
sucked and pulled
even harder until I started with my hand to my groin. He caught both hands and
easily move
them above my head as he made my back arch and I was literally hanging from
his massive
jaws. He bounced me once, twice and I knew the third time I would lose them.
Fuck it! I wanted to loose them! I wanted him to take them to say, ‘there, I
just bit you goddamn cock and balls
off, who owns you now slave?’ I heard myself yell to him, “Take them, Ox!
They’re yours!” No sooner had I gotten that out he bounced me for the third
time and I felt a rumble in my gut, traveling at light speed, up through my
heart and soul, and somehow came out my cock to almost drown my Giant with the
largest shot of come I think ever spewed forth from me. He immediately lowered
me to the bed and released my hands and collapsed on top of me with his mouth
still stuffed with slave gently sucking and knawing the last seeds from me as
my body
twitched and spasmed several times. I moved my hands to his head and gently
rubbed his beautiful smooth bald head. It had been such an emotional climax I
was drained. Tears came to my eyes and started running down my face. I was not
crying! They just came! Every other Goddamn thing on my body had just come,
why not them? It was one of the most emotional climaxes of my life! It sure
didn’t do much to quell the raging fire I had in my heart for the Giant. He
finally released me and looked at my tear stained face. He had a concerned
look on his face and I laughed, “No! You didn’t hurt me! I can’t deny I wanted
you too! I guess I’m learning to trust you! God Master Jim! Could I have about
another twelve hours of your torture.?”
“That’s just a warm up slave! For my next torture I’ll place you on top of my
totem pole and forbid you to slide down!”
“That’s not torture Master! That’s cruel and unusual punishment!”
“Think so huh? Well, what would you say if I ordered you to fuck me?”
“You’re my Master and if you needed it from me you would get the best fucking
I could give
you! No questions asked!”
“That’s not quite what I had in mind slave; although, you get an A+ for
attitude. A slave should
be willing to satisfy any sexual need a Master might have. What I had in mind
is you sitting
on my horse and fucking me with your ass until you get me off”
“Do I have to audition or do I have the job?”
“Depends....?”
“On what Master?”
“Remember them old Republic western movies where the Cowboy hero comes out of
a second
story window, walks across the roof , drops down into the saddle of his pony,
then ride away?”
“Yes Sir! My favorite was Rocky Allen Lane! Played Red Rider for a while. God!
What a man!
I used to dream about being his Little Beaver. Never knowing at the time what
the slang term
“Beaver” meant. When I found out I thought, why not? I can see where this is
going! If I do
my very best Bronco Lane impersonation, slamming his considerably fuckable ass
down onto
your saddle from a second story, I might get the job?”
“It all depends on your mount slave, remember this is Hollywood, Tinsel Town,
where movie
magic happens everyday! You want the job, you play the part!”
“Master, after witnessing your last number. I would kill to be in another one
of your productions. Especially one that has such promise to deliver a
fulfilling climax in the end!” I roared at my on joke, “As the credits role ,
do we ride off into the sunset side by side?”
“Not in this picture, unfortunately! Talk’s cheap slave! Let’s see some
action! My old cayuse
is a’waitin’ Cowpoke! You get extra points for a half-gainer! But first, be a
good slave and
help your old Man off with his clothes. Tonight I’m going to see if you ever
deserved to be Red Ryder’s Little Beaver! By the way, Lane happens to be an
old bike ridin’ buddy of mine. He’s
an older man now but still fit, fine looking, and randy as a shoat!”
I moved to my knees in front of the big Man!
“Uhh.......Master Jim?”
“ O.K.!.......Go ahead, you can have’em.........., how could I deny you
anything? I’ve seen those hungry side glances, I’ve watched your mouth water,
I can smell your body craving what you need, you think this bumbling Giant
doesn’t know your every need? My real pain is I won’t be the one to give you
what I know you need! That’s not to slight Earl! He will more than give you
everything you need.”
With his permission I got down on my knees in front of him and like a beggar
to a feast began to clean his huge boots. I’m sure they had not been cleaned
since I last worked on them and once again I felt so bad because this Man
truly needed someone to care for him. I desperately wanted it
to be me! With my frustration of the situation and my heart aching, my tears
started again but helpfully added moisture I needed to do a great job. He
didn’t miss a thing. And when he was satisfied with my job, he reached down
and pulled me up to him and said, “You really do still love me, don’t you
Beau?” Wrong question to ask right at that moment! “Of course I do you big Ox,
I have from the first night I laid eyes on you and you took me in the Dungeon.
You could have talked me out of my cock and balls that night if you had just
told me you had to have me! If you had just gone to Jeb and said ‘Let’s at
least talk about this!’ I know! I know! You have your reasons but I couldn’t
have known that at the time and road away with a broken heart. Now my heart is
breaking, cleaning your boots, frustrated, knowing you are too good a Man not
to have someone to care for you and look after you. Yes, I would have given up
my cock and balls to get
that job! ”
I moved around with my back to him and grabbed one of his huge boots up
between my crotch and locked it between my legs, my butt plug, cock and balls
resting on the cool leather. Big Jim took his other boot and gently put it
against my ass and began to push. Slowly his big boot began to come off and as
I grabbed it and held it to my face! I locked the other boot between my legs.
I became drunk with the smell of him and the inside of his boots. Unless
you’re a boot lover, top or bottom, you can’t understand the erotic stimulus.
Suffice to say it has been known to bring many a boot slave to their knees.
This wonderful natural resource was going wasted! If I could just find a way
to bottle it, poppers would never be used again! Master Jim bent me over his
knee and with a towel in hand unplugged me. Then ever so gently cleaned up
around my hole.
“May I have a heart to heart with your old stallion Master? He needs some
slave love before he
has to disappear into the darkness.”
“I’m sure it would appreciate a little TLC right now! It’s been as neglected
as my boots! I’m sure it wouldn’t mind if’n Little Beaver kissed it a few
times to make it good and stiff for mounting.” I moved down to his crotch and
was surprised to find him rock hard. Our fantasy talk, my working on his
boots, was doing a number on him. God! I could feel that huge thing in my ass
even as I kissed it, made love to it and slathered it good with my spit.
Bronco Lane may have been fuckable but he had never landed on a horse this
size either. He would have walked bow legged for a month. I was enjoying
making love to his horse when I felt a giant hand at my back door. I moved so
he could get a better feel. I felt him feel around my rosebud then gently push
with one finger. I heard him laugh and say, “O.K.! Slave! Your ass is going to
start dripping all over the bed in a few seconds. Your ripe! Hit it!”
“I got on my knees and positioned the big head at my back door. Spreading my
ass cheeks with
my hands, I took a deep breath and slid down his fire pole like I was
answering a five alarm’er! I actually heard my ass go whump against his
crotch!” I heard my Master suck in his breath like he hadn’t expected such a
fast mount.
“Son of A bitch! ! That was one hell of a mount, Cowboy! Send the rest home,
you got the part! O.K. Little Beaver, show me how good a wrangler you are. You
ride my old cayuse for a while for pleasure, stretch the saddle, get your
little ass broken in for the ride! You ride my horse until there’s no fight
left in that little ass! I want it open and free to take all of me and let me
into
your secret place, that part every slave-boy reserves for his special Master,
only Men who know how to demand it ever get! When I feel it, you’ve let me in
there, and you’re giving me the good stuff, I’ll let you know when it’s time
to ride him to the barn! Then don’t spare the leather Cowboy!”
“Yes Sir, Babe! I promise, I won’t let you down!”
“Babe?”
“Yes Sir! That first night we were together,” I explained as I took a couple
of good long strokes on his shaft, “you told me you were going to split my ass
like Paul Bunyan with a big ax.”
“Yeah, I remember that .....oouuoo shit! That feels good Son! Hit that spot
again, ah yes, that’s it a little longer on that stroke......damn that’s fine,
boy! There’s some good fucking in that little ass!”
“Once you shoved it in I thought Paul Bunyan’s ax hell, it’s his Goddamned
Giant Blue Ox!”
“Babe?!”
“Yes Sir! Ever since I’ve thought of you in my heart as my Big Giant Blue Ox,
‘ Babe!’ And the way it feels right now Master it wasn’t a misnomer! And
you’ll have to admit you have been
a bit ‘blue’ lately!” I looked into his steel gray eyes and tears were
forming! I took another three or four good swift strokes pulled almost off and
slammed my ass back down on him hard. Fuck he felt good!
“Hunker down on Babe, Little Beaver, and let your old Giant Blue Ox make a
little love to you!”
“With pleasure, Babe!” I shoved my ass all the way to the base to park his
sweet Man cock as
deep in me as I cold get it, then leaned forward as his huge hairy arms
enfolded me to hold me
in his kiss. We kissed passionately and deeply for sometime and I began to
move on him. I began to take small strokes and longer and deeper ones the
longer we embraced. I finally broke
from him and said, I love you Babe but Little Beaver’s got a job to do and
he’s gonna’ show you,
you hired the right Indian for the job!
I began my ride on Babe, my Giant Ox! God it felt good to have him in my body
again! It felt
like he belonged inside of me. Like my ass was the perfect berth for his cock!
I began to think how our relationship was beginning to bloom into one of
mutual joy and appreciation for each other. He had become my animal! Not a
pet! He was a wild, untamable(thank God!), hairy beast!
He was my giant Ox that could only be controlled by the magic in my ass to
calm this savage
beast and even then, I knew..........the best of the beast would not only find
comfort in my ass
but would defy all laws of nature to claim it as his own! Then I would gladly
give up my pseudo-
superior status as wise ape and be consumed by his desire to possess his
bliss. I was ready to
be nothing more than seed catcher for my Ox! I was literally willing to work
my ass off to gain
that position.
I must have been pleasuring him right as he offered no criticism nor
suggestions as to speed, stroke, nor depth. His eyes were closed and his head
moved slowly from side to side. I noticed
certain strokes, longer, deeper would cause him to drool from the corners of
his mouth, causing
him to raise his huge arm across his mouth to wipe it away. He moaned a deep
throaty sound that traveled to his cock and into my hungry ass that would
build until I thought I was going to
come from the vibration in my ass alone. I wasn’t about to come until I felt
my Ox began his flow of Bull come in my ass. I tried to imagine riding him
without a cock and balls. I felt my ass working on his huge cock doing my best
to give it pleasure and thought, “It might not be so bad, I would adjust and
eventually would live for his sexual needs! Hell, I’m willing to do that now
even with my cock and balls. His sexual needs would quickly become my needs!
What would it
matter if I had a cock or not? I could imagine worse lives! I threw everything
I had into my ride!
I knew this ride was not going to be a trip around the May-pole! I was going
to have to put out
some righteous ass fucking to get this monster to give up it’s prize. I knew
the feeling he needed
from past fucks but didn’t want to give that up to him right away. Shit, I was
having too much
fun riding his big bull prick I didn’t have any need to rush. I was in the
fucking seat! I could
fuck myself as hard as I wanted! And did! I think he was a little surprised at
the hard slams
I made on his cock! Each one was guaranteed to make him drool. Finally I had,
had enough and
wanted to feel my rocks shoot while riding his cock. I got a good rhythm going
and road him
faster and faster, knowing after about five minutes of good hard riding I was
going to relax my
ass completely and let him into my inner Sanctum. I repositioned myself and
started another
good long stroke, fast rhythm run! I started at a good pace and built and
built then relaxed my
hole completely! He immediately felt it and responded,
“Oh God, Little Beaver ride that fucking Ox to the barn. Take it on home Son!”
“I wasn’t going to let him down now! I hunkered my ass down on his cock and
even I had to
admit that he demanded and was getting a spot I rarely ever had a man take
from me let alone
give. He was raw enough to demand it! By God he was going to get it! He was
getting the
best stuff as he called it and I felt his flow began. I yelled if I could get
mine too?
“Get it Cowboy you beat the eight second buzzer! He yelled back! Oh God!
You’re gonna’ get it all Son, every Goddamned bit of it! Ride that son of a
bitch Cowboy! Don’t let that Bull buck you off!” I rode him even faster and
harder as I knew he was on the edge and felt his flow began! He felt my ass
spasm on his Bull prick as he raised his hips to meet my ass lunges to give me
all he could! I watched his eyes glaze over then roll back into his head and
with his mouth open saliva went everywhere. I loved it! I could feel him
pumping his second load, his unconscious load I named it, to join two other
Bull loads in my gut! His and Dad’s! I was full of Man come! I was satisfied!
I had worked hard for that last two loads and was damn proud to hold them in
my butt! All this come in my ass over the last month was beginning to take
it’s toll. I had never
been able to grow a full beard nor mustache before. Now I was getting five
o’clock shadows at
three in the afternoon. My voice had deepened and I was growing a lot of new
hair on my chest!
And I could swear my damn dick had gotten a little larger! I knew my balls
were hanging lower.
I could feel them banging around in my Coveralls! That’s the only thing I’d
hate to not feel if
my Master removed them. It sort of gave me my own masculine identity.
Nevertheless, if my
new Master, no matter whom that may be, wanted them removed , would not be
questioned!
“Thank you Master! Babe! For letting me ride the Giant Blue Ox! Your slave
needed to give
that to you to prove how much he still loves you! And God as my witness I do
Master”
“Well, Little Beaver, you’ve won my heart for the second time! No more games!
I won’t hold
my love back any more and I know you won’t!”
“Your right Master! Let’s take every opportunity to share our love for each
other when ever we
can. We both know how the immediate future is going to turn out but I can’t
give you up right
now. I know I’ll eventually have to but we can get in some damn fine lovin’
‘till then.”
“I agree! I know I’ve lost you due to my own stupidity but I can at least have
your love through
training. Maybe it won’t be so hard for me knowing we part with the same love
for each other?
And another thing Beau! I’m not the least bit jealous of your love for Earl!
I’m remorseful it couldn’t be me! However, if you truly love someone you would
want them to be with the best person you could imagine and Earl is that Man
for you! I know he will give you more than you need and will love you as much
as any Man could. I can all ready see that in him when he dropped by the other
afternoon. He is a man in love! His whole person glows with a new aura! I
would have never paid him a second notice as a Cop or whatever until the other
day when I saw a Man in bloom. I will have to say his new persona made old
Babe start to drip. You are responsible for that and I would never stand in
the way nor beg you to reconsider! Just let me love you while we have the time
together and I will go my way and not ask for more.”
“Well, my big Oxen Master, How could I deny you something I so very much need
and want
myself! I think I’m growing up Master! I won’t deny the love I have for Master
Earl but neither
will I deny the love I have for you. I just thank God we had this evening
together and dropped
our fences. I knew you cared about me but I never thought it was as much as I
cared for you!”
“Come on slave-boy, let’s take us to the shower and clean each other! Then
I’ll bring you back
to bed and drown you in my love!”
“I couldn’t think of a better way to go Master! I would humbly submit to more
of your torture!
The last couple hours of it has been pretty damn fine!” I laughed as we headed
for the shower.
Ever take a shower with a Giant? Well, not much of the water gets on you! The
top of my head
came to just below Big Jim’s pecs. I’m just at 5'11" and he has to be two and
a half to three feet
taller than I am. It is fun cleaning one of them! Damn there’s just so much to
wash. It’s like
trying to wash a diesel truck and he has to sit down in the shower so you can
reach the top. He did let me stick my finger up his butt to clean him out.
Turned him on too! Ah but when you get to wash old Babe I defy any normal
queer not to want to take a hit off it! And so I did and ended up with the big
giant Ox up my butt again. Man this Giant is a fuck machine!
I got fucked the third time that evening and shot one more time myself. I was
exhausted! By the
time the big fellow got me washed off and toweled dry he had to carry me into
bed. The last
thing I remember was him kissing me all over my face and me turning my head to
meet full
mouth for one last deep kiss. Then the lights went out. I woke up once during
the night in his
massive arms and wiggled loose and move to his crotch. There I found the
sleeping bull and
just took the head in my mouth and fell back to sleep.
I awoke the next morning with something filling my mouth. The sleeping bull
had awakened.
I felt a huge paw gently caress my head. I gently sucked on the head sticking
my tongue in the
piss slit. We lay there together and I felt my Master work just a little down
my throat. Oh God,
he wants to give me his morning piss, I relaxed and took a little bit more
myself. I sucked
and massaged and felt him feed me a little more. I immediately took some more
until
I knew it was far enough I didn’t have to swallow. I reached behind each of
his ass cheeks and
pulled just a bit more down my throat and gently squeezed his right cheek to
let him know I
was ready to receive.
“It’s strong morning piss Son! You sure you want it?” I just squeezed a little
harder again.
“That’s why I love you boy! You know how to please a Man! You should want his
piss when
ever you can get it and I’m beginning to believe you love mine! Here it comes
Son!”
Damn it was hot and fine filling my belly up. He was right! It was strong and
flavorful but I didn’t get to taste that much. Only drops of it as I withdrew
and licked him clean.”
We got up and I help dress him, putting those huge boots right in my crotch as
he pretended it
took him a little more effort and had to press pretty hard on my cock and
balls to get them on.
I loved him for that! Felt good! Jeb had just hollered to us that Breakfast
was on the table.
We descended the stairs talking and laughing with each other.
“God, you two are like two prepubescent school boys that just discovered
jacking each other off!”
“Well, let’s say we just re-discovered it!” Master Jim tossed off laughing . I
laughed too.
“Actually, that’s good to see in the both of you! You look like you got some
things off your
minds last night and I see Jim didn’t have to go to the head this morning!” I
blushed and Master
Jim winked at me, as Master Jeb threw back his head in laughter.
“Good for you, Jim! Training the boy right! Well done!”
“Your right Jim! He does look better without that harness on! If you order him
not to jack off,
he won’t! I know Beau that well by now!”
“You mean Little Beaver?” Master Jim laughed.
“Little Beaver, huh? I suppose that makes you Red Ryder?” Master Jeb said
raising an eyebrow.
“Nope! I’m Babe, the Giant Blue Ox!”
“As in Paul Bunyan’s Babe?”
“The very same!”
“Fits! Both of them! Yep! They fit!” We all had a good laugh.
The telephone rang. Master Jeb went into his office to answer. I couldn’t hear
his conversation
as Master Jim and I were engaged in conversation. He came back in the kitchen
as we were
finishing our coffee. “That was Jake!” I turned white. “He wanted to come by
for a few minutes
to see you Beau and I told him it would be all right. Did you talk to Jim last
night?”
“He told me a little about what happened but I didn’t think it was bad or
couldn’t be repaired.”
Master Jim lied to Jeb and winked at me behind Jeb’s back. “Maybe it’s best if
he comes by and
the two of them can clear the air.” Said Master Jeb “You want to share with me
what happened? Beau?”
“Well, Master as I told Master Jim, I don’t really know! It was as if he
didn’t know whether
he wanted to be my Master or my Dad! He whipped me until I passed out! I’m not
mad at him for that! I gave him the right and was flattered that he felt
comfortable enough to do it. But it
confused me, because right after I came to he made the best love to me we had
ever had. He left
without saying much and I felt devastated! I’m not real sure why!”
“I’ve seen this sort of thing happen to new Masters that get carried away with
their new powers
and hurt someone mentally or physically. Being a good Master is a learned
thing and becomes better through maturity. Some one who’s been a Master for
years would rarely hurt anyone. It just doesn’t get you what you want from a
slave in the long run. I think he may feel really bad
Beau and wants to set things right between you.”
“I feel the same Beau!” Master Jim said softly grabbing my hand.
“Should I throw some clothes on Master?” I asked Master Jeb.
“What do you think Jim?” Master Jeb deferred to Big Jim.
“Look in the hall closet, there, Beau, we have about ten guest bathrobes for
visitors. Grab one
of those!” I went to the closet and found one that would fit and put it own.
“That’s good! Thanks Jim!” Said Master Jeb.
The doorbell rang and Master Jeb went to answer. I was nervous as a cat! I
don’t know why!
I hadn’t done anything I could think of that was bad!
Master Jeb returned with Dad who saw me and smiled. I smiled back and nodded!
“Do you want to be alone Jake? You two can head fo the Dungeon or my office!”
“No Thanks! Master Jeb what I have to say to Beau I need to say in front of
all of you!
Come here Son!” He held his arms out to me and I flew into them. Dad started
crying and
I held him and comforted him. “It’s all right Dad! Don’t cry! I love you!” He
got himself
together and spoke, “No Beau! It’s not all right! I was an asshole last night
and it’s a side
of me I have worked hard to leave behind! You didn’t deserve what I did to
you! You only
deserve my love! I just got carried away with the Master thing and I realized
I don’t want to
be your Master I’ll settle for being your Dad!” “Actually Dad you whipped my
ass pretty
damn good but I’d rather have you as my Dad! Jake, you mean the world to me
and I think
I don’t want to think of you as just one of my Masters. You’re my Dad! They’re
not! That
doesn’t mean I won’t obey my Dad’s commands or wishes as if you were one! I’ve
learned
a lesson too! I won’t ever refer to you as Master again, your Dad!” Then Dad
did something
he had never done before, in front of Master Jeb and Jim, he kissed me dead on
the mouth!
What did I do? I giggled! I held him close and said each word one at a time to
make a strong point ,“Don’t ever do that again!” and we both fell out
laughing.
“Sounds like a real Son to me Jake!”Said Master Jeb. “Only a real Son would
tell his Dad that!”
“That’s fine with me! That’s what I wanted to hear! And I won’t ever do that
again but you got
my meaning!” “Loud and clear, Dad!”
“Coffee Jake?” Master Jeb asked .
“I’ll have a cup then I have to run. I’m sorry to interrupt your morning but
this was bothering
me too much. I had to tell Beau how sorry I was that his Dad was a major
asshole!”
“No problem! Glad you came by! Those things don’t need to sit around and
fester in people!”
“Dad you haven’t met Master Jim! Jake Raggazzi, Jim Johnson. The two men shook
hands!
“Jim must be the Giant you’ve been telling me about! You didn’t lie about how
big he is! I would
never want to piss him off!” We all laughed. “I just call him Babe!” I said
winking at Big Jim
and laughing.
Dad stayed for his one cup of coffee and then had to leave. I saw him to the
door and we hugged
again! “Thanks for understanding and forgiving this old asshole Beau! I
promise I will never
hurt you again!” “I know you won’t Dad! I love you!” “I love you too, Son!”
I felt on top of the world! Not to be missed by my Two Masters.
I helped clean the table and put things away. Glad to get that bathrobe off!
“Master Jeb, if you don’t have anything for me to do in the next few minutes I
would ask your
permission to talk with Master Jim about something.”
“Go ahead! I’ve nothing immediate planned. Later this afternoon we need to sit
down and talk
and I’d like Jim to join us if you will ask him for me. Another thing, you
don’t have to ask my
permission to go to Jim for anything while you’re in the house. His door is
always open to you
and I expect you to take advantage of that! I know you understand!” and he
winked at me. The
old Devil knew what was going on!
I ran up the stairs and gently knocked on Master Jim’s door.
“Come in Boy!” I walked in and saw him in the chair he was in last night
looking out the window. This time I didn’t hold back ! I moved to my knees in
front of him and kissed
each one of his big boots and then hugged my face up against them and held his
legs tight!
“This is what you need Master! Someone who would worship at your feet! Master,
your slave loves you and will no longer hold back anything from you!” He
smiled down at me.
“Get up here in my lap Little Beaver and let Ox pet you for a while!” I did as
he ordered. He
brushed his lips against my cheek and ran his paws over me bringing old eight
to attention.
“I must have some effect on you Son and you on me! Feel that!” He moved my
hand to his
crotch. The old Ox was rock hard! “But you’ve got something on your mind you
need to talk
about!”
“Yes Sir! But first, thanks for covering my ass at breakfast! I owe you a blow
job for that!”
“Throw in an Ox ride and we’re even!”
“You got it Master! Anyway, I was wondering about something and didn’t want to
ask Master
Jeb although I’m sure he would tell me! I would trust your opinion about this
one thing more
than his right now.”
“What would that be, pretty slave-boy?”
“You knew Wes really well because he was your nephew! Did Master Jeb share
with you my
relationship with Wes?” “Yes, I know most of it! You were lovers in Nam. You
save his life
and six other guys!” “Yes Sir, but did you ever have an opportunity to examine
Wes after his
operation.” “Yes, Earl left him with Jeb and me several weekends when he had
to do some police thing and couldn’t have Wes around. I asked Earl’s
permission to try it out! Wes was so quiet most of the time I never knew he
had always wanted to try ME on! I remember really getting into it and we
shared some pretty hot sex. He was a damn fine fuck and came every time
like clockwork the same time I did! I understood why Earl liked it so much. It
was fun to eat
out afterward too! That would really torture Wes and send him ‘round the
bend.”
“So would you say you liked it as much as fucking ass?” I asked.
“Damn fine! I some ways better! When his internal erection occurred it would
make the channel
smaller and tighter until it was like a fist clamped on to your cock and it
took a hell of a lot of
lubricant to keep a smooth fucking motion. I’ve had Allen too if that’s your
next question!”
“I just heard about Allen from Billy and Oscar!”
“I think I see where this is going! If a Master would want to remove
everything would it be bad
to ask if he would consider making it into another hole? At one time I would
have said no! A man should remain a Man even though he gives up his genitals
for his Master! Now I don’t feel that way. Wes and Allen remained very
masculine Men! They weren’t changed into women just
because they had an extra hole to fuck! They did not do any female hormone
therapy and retained their testicles in their body cavity. It became a male
fuck hole with them and everyone
who went with them never treated them as if they were cunts. They were Men
having very unusual sex with other Men! If I were your Master and you asked me
to consider your request knowing you were going to lose them I would really
have to think about it but would probably grant your request. I know Earl
loved it! Wes use to complain his ass didn’t get much attention after the
operation! Wes’s was better than Allen’s but Allen was so damn small I never
thought he could hold all of me. But surprised the hell out of me! Took it all
and begged for more! Now, knowing you and your need to give, it would be the
perfect change for you, if, and only if, your Master was going to have
everything removed!”
“If it should happen that you and I can one day be together would you consider
that request if I asked?”
“Well, that would presume I wanted to have your cock and balls removed! I may
not want that
from you! I have changed my mind about a lot of things since I fell in love
with you Beau! If you signed a contract with me giving me that power why would
I arbitrarily want to use that power? I took Scout’s because I thought it was
something he really needed to give me, because he felt he was holding back! I
thought at the time it would be the answer I was looking for! It helped but
wasn’t the answer! Now, if you asked to have a change because it was something
you felt you truly needed to do for me, I would consider it. I’m not saying I
would allow it to be done! I’m just saying I might consider it!”
“I’ll tell you this Beau! I wouldn’t take on another slave unless he signed my
contract unconditionally! There isn’t too many out there that would be willing
to do that! I know you would! I somehow knew that the day I first met you that
you would do that for me! It’s like you said last night, you aren’t totally
committed to being a slave if you don’t! I need that commitment
and I no longer apologize for it! Does that answer your questions Son?”
“Yes Sir! You think exactly the same way as Master Earl and I never considered
the passion behind such a commitment until he explained how he felt about it
one evening to Billy, Oscar, and me. I wanted to ask if it would seem
insincere for a slave who has committed himself to what
ever his Master requires to request that consideration or would it seem like
he was trying to get out of his original commitment?
“I suppose it would depend on the Master! For a slave to ask a Master to
consider anything is
not inappropriate nor impolite if requested respectfully and with humility.
His Master doesn’t have to grant the consideration and may not if it’s been
discussed many times before and the slave knows how the Master feels! I do
know several Masters out there that will not even bid on you unless you have
agreed to sign an unchallenged contract! If they win you in the bid you will
not see the inside of your new home before a trip to the cutter! Many consider
a slave does not fully become a slave to give them total control until their
genitals have been removed. Then they are carefully cared for and trained by
that Master and learn that their only sexual need is to be in service to their
Master! The strongest bonds I have ever known between Master and slave have
been those that the Master had his slave neutered right from the start! That
way there was never
any question nor struggle for dominance. The slave’s loss was a constant
reminder of who was in control and why he must obey. He would be slowly
conditioned to learn that his only sexual purpose was to please his Master!
Master/slave relationships are rampant in the outlaw biker
crowd. Mostly between two men but sometime a woman would sub for a man! There
was no
training or being led gently into a life there. I knew this one outlaw biker
named Beryl. You
think I’m big! He was six inches taller than me and out weighted me by a
hundred pounds. His
cock soft was fourteen and a half inches and two and a half round. There
wasn’t a woman that
could take him! Hear him tell it he was straight ‘till he found a little guy
that could take all of
him. He never looked back!
He’d lost his little buddy in a bad accident they had and as usual the driver
of the bike walked
away with scratches and his little partner was killed instantly. He was
devastated and didn’t even
think about another partner, male or female, for five or six years. Then one
day this good looking
strapping hunk of a man joined the group from another outlaw club. He was
straight arrow and
didn’t mind letting everyone know. He was a real heartbreaker with the ladies.
He had a beautiful body a good size cock and knew how to talk some shit. He’d
have a new good looking
old lady on the back of his bike every other month. I had noticed old Beryl
giving him the eye
but he never said anything. One night we were just relaxing and shooting the
shit pulling on a
bottle of Wild Turkey I had bought in town and Beryl and I found ourselves
alone. Beryl knew
I preferred Men in a Master/slave relationship and began to ask me a few
questions! To my surprise he opened up to me about his little buddy and I
think it was the first time he’d talked
about him since he was killed. I could tell it was eating him up to talk about
it but it was something that had to come out and I was someone who would
understand and be a good listener. He told the story of picking this kid up
hitch hiking on a back road in Texas. He told
the Kid that he would give him a ride but he could only take what he could
carry in his pockets and roll in a blanket to fit behind him on the bike! He
told him he had a big dick and would fuck him! If he agreed to that he would
take him where ever he wanted to go! The Kid told him his
Dad use to fuck him that’s why he was running away from home because Dad had
hurt him! Beryl said he stopped his engine got off his bike and took the Kid
in his arms and promised him while he was with him, no man would ever hurt him
again. Yes, he would fuck him but he would not hurt him! He would soon learn
to love having Beryl inside of him!
The Kid fell head over heals in love with Beryl. He couldn’t get enough of
Beryl’s cock and would do anything for Beryl. All Beryl had to do was snap his
fingers and the Kid obeyed.
According to Beryl never once in the eight years they rode together did the
Kid ever question
something Beryl told him to do. Beryl would loan him out to his buddies. Only
the ones Beryl knew wouldn’t hurt nor abuse the Kid. If they just wanted a
blow job or a good hot piece of Boy Butt they came to Beryl. Don’t get me
wrong! It wasn’t free! Beryl made good money off the
Kid and after the Kid got broken in to pleasing a Man, he was in big demand.
Beryl was a proud pappa and made sure he fucked the Kid and made love to him
at least once a day. The Kid was literally in Hog heaven! It may have seemed
to the outside world that the Kid was just a whore to these bikers but that
wasn’t so. Beryl was his undisputed owner, master, pappa, and lover.
The other guys treated the Kid like a little brother. He had a huge family
that just also happened
to be the roughest, meanest son’s of bitches normal society considered them to
be! They would
even court him and buy him little trinkets to get special sexual favors from
him. They took care
of him and he took care of them. You have never seen a more sad group of Men
than the three
clubs that attended his funeral. They all got roaring drunk and raised all
kinds of hell in their
grief for themselves and Beryl!
But that had been six years ago and now Beryl was letting it all out. I held
him long into the
night until the big Man just couldn’t cry anymore and got the hiccups.
Well, something snapped in Beryl that night and the next afternoon he patted
this new biker, Blaine, on the butt and asked him when he could drop by his
tent to fuck him. Blaine went
postal and was going to take Beryl on! All the other bikers just laughed and
told him you better
just grease up your old hole because if Beryl wants a piece of your butt he’s
gonna’ get it! They further goaded him by telling him Beryl’s dick is so big
once he gets it all the way in, we could jack him off from the part that will
stick out your mouth! Well, that just added fuel to the fire and Blaine came
by our campfire and yelled at Beryl that he didn’t appreciate his advances and
if he knew what was good for him he wouldn’t try anything. Beryl just looked
up at Blaine and said “You know young Man, I know what’s good for me and I
know what’s gonna’ be better for you! That’s when you learn to relax that good
looking little ass of your’s, I ease my big dick way up inside you and you a
let a real Man show you how good he can make you feel when he knows how to
give you what you need! You are gonna’ get fucked, whether you like it or not!
I’d rather you like it so it won’t be so hard the next time I want to come
knocking on your back door! But you will be fucked!
That was enough to embarrass the shit out of Blaine and he pulled a knife and
lunged for Beryl.
I’ve never seen a big man move so fast! He had Blaine on the ground, one boot
in his back and
the other on the hand that held the knife. He leaned over, took the knife from
Blaine and told
him if he moved he’d break his back. He took the knife and slit a hole in the
ass of Blaine’s levis.
He spit on his huge fingers and found Blaines hole and began to gently play
with it. Blaine was
calling him a fucking queer and pervert and other name. Beryl just kept on
fingering his hole,
getting more and more of his fingers in there. Every now and then he’d spit on
his fingers and
then some one handed him a little axil grease and he applied that. By now,
Blaine had cursed
all he could and just lay there as four of Beryl’s buddy’s took hold of
Blaine’s hands and legs so
Beryl could concentrate on what he was doing. He would talk to Blaine and tell
him how much
better his cock was gonna’ feel up there and he needed Blaine to raise his ass
just a little so he
could fuck him a little deeper with his fingers. Blaine told him to go fuck
himself and Beryl told
him that it wasn’t his own ass he was interested in. He could either raise his
ass for him now or
Beryl was going to climb on top right now and fuck him in front of the whole
camp. Blaine
thought about it for a while and I watched as he slowly began to raise his ass
so Beryl could fuck
him deeper. That was Blaines first introduction to slave conditioning! He was
controlled! He
was humiliated! And he was totally sexually stimulated. Beryl talked to him
gently and told him
how pleased he was with him and they’d be through in just a minute but Beryl
wanted to see him
fuck back with his ass on his fingers. He wanted to see how good he could use
his ass. By this time Blaine new better than to say no and began to fuck back
with his butt. The other guys in
the camp were laughing and hooting at Blaine getting into having his ass
played with. Then Blaine’s current old lady came around to see what was going
on. She saw Blaine humping Beryl’s hand and got a look of disgust on her face
and walked away.
Beryl was satisfied for the evening and told his buddy’s to let Blaine up.
Blaine sprang to his feet and took a swing at Beryl calling him everything but
a white Man. Beryl sidestepped the
swing and grabbed Blaine around both arms and held him tight up against his
massive chest.
He looked down at Blaine and spoke, “If that was so bad for you Son, what is
that hard thing
between your legs that’s poking me in the belly! I can make it a lot harder
than that when you
have all of me up there inside of your gut making love to you! Then Beryl
kissed him hard on the mouth. There was a hush that fell over the campsite
that you could hear the horned toads fucking and mouths dropped open as Blaine
melted in the big mans arms and began to kiss him back. Then Blaine started
crying and Beryl held him, kissed him and soothed him for hours. That night
Blaine got fucked by his new Master for the first time. Blaine kicked his old
lady out and moved in the next night with Beryl. No one said a word to Blaine
about his choice! They just accepted it and were happy for both him and Beryl!
Blaine had a bad habit of sneaking off to fuck some new broad that every one
in the camp would
be lusting for. Blaine was so drop dead good looking women would throw their
panties away
for him. Beryl would find out about it and talk to Blaine telling him he was
now his slave and he
couldn’t fuck women anymore. His only goal in life was to satisfy Beryl. It
got so bad Beryl
told him the next time he did it he was going to have his cock and balls
removed!
Beryl had Blaine on an operating table in Mexico six months later and told him
he had a choice!
Either Beryl was going to have everything removed or the Mexican Doctors could
build him a
cunt. It would take several operations but the choice was his! Blaine asked
Beryl if he was going to keep him for his slave. Beryl assured him that was
why he was having this done so Blaine would become his total slave. Blaine
opted for the cunt! It takes several operation to complete! It turned out
great for Beryl. Finally, he had a cunt that could hold all of him!
To every ones surprise Blaine wore his new cunt as a sign of his love for
Beryl. He seemed to love Beryl even more for having it done to him. He just
said he was happy someone cared that
much about him to claim him as their own. Once again Beryl had himself a
little money maker. Blaine would be ordered to pleasure one of the guys and if
he didn’t do a good job Beryl would punish him. Not whip him or hurt him! He
just wouldn’t let Blaine have any cock for several days until Blaine would go
SO crazy the entire camp would come To Beryl and beg for mercy. Then he would
order Blaine to strip in front of the whole camp and yell at the top of his
voice how bad he needed his Master Beryl to fuck his pussy and he was so sorry
he had displeased his Master and promise to make up for it. He would pleasure
the guy again and treat him right , he promised! Then Beryl would drop his
pants and snap his fingers and Blaine would kneel and kiss his boots then take
his huge cock all the way down his throat and get it good and wet. Then Beryl
would snap his fingers and Blaine wold jump up and bend over so Beryl could
have best access to his hole. Beryl would grab him around the waist and sink
it in one swift shove. There wouldn’t be a pair of levis in the camp that
didn’t have a wet spot in the crotch! Beryl would then fuck him to climax and
God help Blaine if he didn’t put his all into giving his Master the best fuck
he could and put on the best show he could for the camp. Men and women! Loudly
telling all how good his Master felt fucking his slave hole and would his
Master please, please fuck him harder. Take more Master, I need more of you in
me. Some of the guys really got turned on and would pair off and go fuck each
other. Long into the night you could hear Blaine mouthing sounds of how good
he was getting fucked and how fortunate he was to have such a good Master who
kept his ass and pussy fucked so good!
“If I wanted you to take them, because through discussion we mutually agreed
it was something
we both wanted, would you ?”
“What do you think? Of course I would! In a New York minute! But remember, I
love you Beau, more than I ever have anyone! Never think about nor agree to do
something like that
on a whim without asking my opinion or advice! I don’t care who your Master is
at the time!
Promise me Beau!”
“I’ll try Master Jim but if I sign Master Earls contract I may not have the
option of seeking your
counsel. After all, I will be his slave and will have agreed in advance to
have any modification
he chooses. Would you want to have a slave you bought call King’s X until he
sought counsel?”
“No! You’re right about that! But Earl is not the kind of man that is going to
require that on the
way home! It’s something that may be discussed many times between you and you
may need
someone to talk to about it! I’m not even saying I would tell you to go
against your Master’s
wishes! (If you’ve signed his contract you can’t anyway! If you tried the
group would force you
to comply and that isn’t pretty!) It may be the best thing for the two of you
and I may even tell you to be strong, brave, and do as your Master wishes. Let
him have them! It certainly would not make me want you any less if later you
were to come to me! Suppose, you and Earl are together three or four years and
you get this itch to either give them to him or change your body for him! He
probably hasn’t given much thought to it! All I’m saying is before you decided
to talk to him or ask any Master to consider it, talk to me first and tell me
where your heart is! That’s all I ask! Obviously, if one of the Masters I
described for you a minute ago wins the bid, you won’t be given any option!
You’ll have to go along with it and hope for the best! But I really think you
aren’t that afraid of
it happening anymore! It’s almost become a challenge to you to see if it did
happen whether
you could make the most of it and come out better than before!”
“I couldn’t have put it any better Master Jim! You are getting to know me
pretty well!”
“It’s not hard when you love someone as much as I do you Beau!”
“Buy the way, Master Jeb just said something to me that I thought strange! He
said I was free to come to you any time I wished while I was in this house! He
said I didn’t need to ask his permission!”
“Really? Huh!” Big Jim had a puzzled look on his face.
“Well, then we don’t have to sneak around, do we?”
“No Sir! So ya’ wanna’ fuck?? We both fell out laughing.
“I’d like to get you down to the Dungeon later this evening. I’ll talk to Jeb
and see what he has
planned. I’d like to beat that little ass of your’s and show you how it should
be done. You’ll
be begging me for more!!”
“Do you think Master Jeb would let me call Master Earl just to say hello!”
“I don’t know but get over there on my phone and call him. I’ll leave if you
want!”
“That’s not necessary if it won’t hurt you to hear me tell him I love him!”
“Beau if you didn’t tell him, that would bother me! You’ve been honest with me
and in some small way I’m pleased you can return Earl’s love. He has not had
it easy for a number of years
now and deserves a good slave’s love!”
I dialed his number!
“Earl Shaw!”
“Good morning Master Earl! This is your humble slave calling.”
“Damn Son! It’s good to hear your voice! I didn’t think I’d get to hear from
you all weekend!”
“Well, you have Master Jim to thank for this call. He gave me permission to
use his phone and I am grateful to him!
“You be sure and thank him for me as well. How is your weekend going? Are you
having a
good time?”
“Leisurely, Master Earl! We just finished breakfast and I was sitting here
boring Master Jim
with slave questions.”
“You listen to him, Beau! He’s a good Man and has a lot of experience and
knowledge to draw
upon. I’m glad you have a Man like him to help in your training! Give him my
regards!”
“I will Master! And Master....?’
“I miss you and I love you!” There was a noticeable prolonged silence on the
other end.
“Well, I’m sorry Son, that just hit me where I live right now and I couldn’t
respond for a
minute! God knows I love you to Beau! Don’t ever forget that!”
“I won’t Master Earl! I better go and see if I can help Master Jeb. I’ll try
to call tomorrow if
Master Jim will let me!”
“Thanks for calling Beau! It made my day!”
“I love you Master”
“I love you too, my slave!”
I hung up the phone and had tears in my eyes. Master Jim opened his big arms
to me and held
me tight! “Master Earl said to tell you ‘thank you’ for letting me call! He
also said for me to
listen to you as you were knowledgeable and experienced as a Master and could
teach me a lot!”
“Well then, how can either of us help but love the Man!” Big Jim smiled at me.
By the way, Master Jeb wanted to talk with me this afternoon and wanted me to
ask you to be
present. I would appreciate it if you were going to be around here to sit in.
“Yeah! I’ll be around here most of the day! Now how ‘bout that fuck??” We
rolled on the big
bed laughing together!
“You know Master Jim?”
“What pretty-slave?”
“The best of the beast comes through when you’ve got me in the sling! Now
that’s a ride to
remember!”
“You like being fucked by a beast?”
“Not until you let your’s loose on me! Now I’m spoiled!”
“I’ll see if we can’t reserve the Dungeon for later. However, Jeb might want
you to stay with him tonight! We’ll see!”
Master Jim and I went to the garage to look at his Harley. He had been having
some trouble with
the carbs and I offered to take a look at it for him. I had done most for the
work on my bike and
worked on several friends bikes, several of which where Harley’s. I watched
him crank the beast and noticed it was slow to engage unless the number one
cylinder was exactly at highpoint. The
timing and spark retard was off. After about fifteen minutes of tweeking, I
had it starting first
kick every time. Master Jim was thrilled and told me I didn’t owe him the blow
job anymore, just
the Ox ride.
“Fuck!!” I said, “I could just taste that blow job!”
“Well, Son, if it’s that important to you!”
“It’s not everyday a slave gets to suck off a Bull Ox!”
“Well, for fixing my bike you can suck me off twice, how’s that?!”
“Now that’s thanks I can live with Master!!” I thought Master Jim would bust a
gut laughing.
“Master Jim! Could we ride our bikes out to the desert and I wear my leather
pants that the ass
piece snaps out and you ride me and the Harley down a very bumpy road?”
“You’re not gonna’ believe this Beau but I’ve jacked off thinking of doing
that with you! Sure,
I’d love to try it! I’ve never found anyone kinky enough to try it with me but
I should have known
your delightfully dirty little mind would run in the same gutter as mine!
We’ll do it the first
chance we get! I’m wondering if Jeb and Earl have talked about you keeping
your bike?”
“I just assumed that I would have to get rid of it. I was thinking of giving
it to Dad.”
“Well, maybe not! Let’s ask Jeb at our meeting. If you’re going to work after
training then you’ll
need it for transportation. It seems dumb to just have to turn around and buy
another! Why don’t you and I get up early tomorrow morning and you ride buddy
on the Harley with me and we’ll take a short trip to this buddy of mine’s
ranch in the desert. Well, actually it’s Beryl’s place in
the high desert. He’s hardly ever there, he and Blaine are usually off touring
somewhere, and I have keys to the place! You got those pants here with you?”
“Yes, Sir! Almost all my leathers are here!”
“Good! I’ll wear my leather pants with the cod piece so we don’t have to worry
about zippers!
By the time we get out there the vibration from my old Hog on your plug should
have you just about ripe for a good fucking Harley ride!
I use to know these two wild ass outlaw riders and they would ride everywhere
together like that. They thought nothing of pulling in to a filling station
and his slave would pull off his Master’s cock like it was the most natural
thing in the world and didn’t everyone ride bikes like this?? What’s wrong
with you people?? They took great delight as his slave would remount his
Master’s big cock! The slave would go down on him several times in plain view
of everyone then jump on the bike pegs, his old man would hold it ready for
him and bamm! It would disappear up the salves butt! The Kid would get himself
adjusted and his old Man would kiss him behind the ear, gun the engine and
away they’d go! Many a young station attendant ran to the head to drop a load
after a visit from those boys!”
We both fell out laughing looking at each other knowing we would probably try
it one day and
that made us laugh even harder.
“Say, Master Ox! It’s going on noon. Let me run in to see if Master Jeb could
eat a burger. I’ll
throw some pants and boots on and if you’ll ride me down the hill I’ll buy
some burgers for us
all. How’s that sound?”
“Like a plan, Little Beaver!”
I walked in the house and found Master Jeb laying across his bed. He didn’t
appear to be asleep.
“May I come in Master?”
“Of course my slave-boy. Come on in, lay across the bed with me and let me pet
you for a minute!”
I did as requested and my Master began to pet me and play with me with his
wonderful rough hands. It immediately made my cock salute. Then he held me in
his arms for a minute then
gently kissed me. He was such a hot Goddamn man! He reached down and fingered
my hole
and gently stuck his forefinger in and held it like he was taking my
temperature.
“Is Big Jim doing right by that little hole slave?” I smiled and kissed him on
the cheek.
“You know he is Master! You planned it that way!”
“ Beau I knew I was gonna’ have trouble with you!! Not because you won’t be
the easiest slave
I’ve ever trained but because your one of the brightest!” Then he threw back
his big head and laughed. “You’re also a delight, Little Beaver!”
“Oh God! I think this one stuck!”
“I love it! Suits you to a ‘T’! And a perfect name for Big Jim, ‘Babe’!” He
laughed again.
“Nicknames only come from the deepest love sometime and become very meaningful
to people
over long periods of time!”
“Master Jeb, are you hungry! We are and I wanted to know if I could buy you a
burger from
down the hill. With your permission I was going to throw on some clothes and
Master Ox
was going to buddy me down the hill!”
“Sounds good! Then after we eat the three of us will talk and then I want you
to report to the
Dungeon at 4:00 P.M. on the dot cleaned and ready for service. You old
Master’s gonna’ tie
you in the sling and fuck the snot out’a you. Then you and the Big Blue Ox can
have it for the
rest of the evening. You will stay with him again tonight! That won’t break
your heart will it?”
I was blushing, “You know how I feel about him, Master!”
“I do and you don’t need to feel guilty about your feelings. I also know you
feel as much or deeper for Earl. That’s why you called him this morning on
Jim’s phone, wasn’t it!”
I turned white! How the hell did he know? I was caught with my hand in the
jar!
“Yes Sir! It was! I miss him and wanted to tell him I loved him!”
“You did the right thing, Beau! He called me not fifteen minutes ago to see if
we had reached
some decision about your work and I told him we would shortly. He just
mentioned Jim was good
enough to let you phone! He is a Man in love, Son, and I’m glad you love him
too! No two people ever deserved to be together more than you and him. Your
buddy Wes knew what he was doing! He’s easy with you right now because he is
very much in love but have no fear that Man
will have you the most well disciplined slave on the west coast! He will rip
you a new asshole!
It’s exactly what you want and need! A Man’s man that will totally control
you! He will become the envy of every Master in our group and you will become
the envy of every slave! I’ve seen him
in action and I wouldn’t want to be his slave! That’s not to scare you because
you need him as
much as he needs you! Give it a year after he buys you and I will come to you
and ask if I’ve
made a big mistake getting you two together! I know you won’t lie to me!”
“I never would Sir! And I trust you’ve done the right thing by both of us but
I worry about another big Man that I love! I hurt because he’s hurting! He
needs someone to take care of him!
Couldn’t you find someone for him? I love him so much it would make me happy
to know
that he has a slave that takes good care of him! Hell Master , I’d even buy
the damn slave for him!”
“I know the Man, Beau! Trust me he will never fall out of love with you long
enough to let anyone near him! You are not going to lose Ox! He is not going
to lose you! When the hell
will people just learn to trust me?”
“I’m learning, Master! I’m trying hard! Sometime I get confused.”
“Well, why don’t you and Ox go get lunch and I’ll have the table ready when
you get back!”
He grabbed me and kissed me,
“You aren’t wrong to feel as much as you do for others Beau! Don’t ever stop
caring! ‘Cause
when and if you do , the world will stop caring about you!”
I left and went to throw on some clothes in Master Jim’s room. He was in his
room and I told
him we were on for burgers. I went to him, put my arms around him and placed
my head up against his big chest. He wrapped his big arms around me and kissed
me on the head.
“What’s this moment for?” He asked quietly.
“Just ‘cause I felt like doing it! In keeping with our new ‘don’t hold love
back’ policy! And I
have a question for you?”
“O.K., Shoot!”
“If I bought you a slave would you accept him as a gift of my love?” He hugged
me so tight I
thought I was going to pass out.
“You really aren’t holding back, are you? That’s a terribly unselfish and
sweet offer and I
won’t say no! Let me think about it! Or maybe I should say consider it!”
“Well, that’s further than I thought I’d get! Please do consider it Master Ox!
I would pick him out, buy him, have him cut, and have him present his genitals
to you on a silver platter as he kneels at your feet and begs you to accept
him as a gift from your number one slave!”
“Will you stop that talk?! We won’t get out of here for burgers!”
“Sorry Master!”
“Come on Little Beaver, let’s go!”
“You betch’um Babe!”
End of Part X(A)
Waddie Greywolf
[email protected]
* * * |
Kreuzzug | GAY, PENECTOMY, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION, MINOR | Prolog : Der Kampf ist zu Ende . Das Kreuzfahrerheer Vernichtend Geschlagen und völlig aufgerieben . Nun fallen die Sarazenen über den Tross her um Beute zu machen . Das große Morden beginnt . Die Alten und Frauen werden Enthauptet . Bartlose Jünglinge und die Mädchen werden davon geführt . | **Prolog :** Der Kampf ist zu Ende . Das Kreuzfahrerheer Vernichtend
Geschlagen und völlig aufgerieben . Nun fallen die Sarazenen über den Tross
her um Beute zu machen . Das große Morden beginnt . Die Alten und Frauen
werden Enthauptet . Bartlose Jünglinge und die Mädchen werden davon geführt .
**
**
**
**
**Marsch durch die Wüste .
**
Ich heiße Jean . Ich bin Franzose . Mein Alter ist etwa elf oder zwölf Jahre .
Die Sarazenen haben mich gefangen .
Die Hände sind mir auf dem Rücken gefesselt . Um den Hals , habe ich eine
Schlinge aus Seil . Diese ist mit der Halsschlinge mit dem Jungen der vor mir
geht , und dem der hinter mir geht verbunden . Im Entenmarsch wandern wir
durch die Wüste . Vor uns , reitet ein Sarazene in Prächtiger Rüstung.
Etwa 90 Knaben sind wir . Alle Nationen . Zwischen sechs und siebzehn Jahren
alt . Eine Woche , sind wir jetzt schon unterwegs . Morgens und Abends ,
bekommen wir Wasser und ein paar Datteln .
Vor mir geht der jüngste Sohn eines Deutschen Barons . Sein Älterer Bruder
geht weiter vorn . Beide sind Weißblond und sehr Hübsch . Der jüngere ist etwa
neun und der ältere etwa sechzehn Jahre alt .
Am Zehntem Tag , erreichen wir ein Gehöft . Wir werden in einen Innenhof
geführt und dürfen uns hinsetzen . Der Innenhof ist ziemlich groß . In seiner
Mitte ist eine Olivenbaum Insel . Unter den Olivenbäumen , liegen zwei etwa
achtjährige Jungen . Sie schauen uns an , spreizen ihre Beine auseinander ,
und machen mit der Hand merkwürdige Bewegungen dazwischen .
Der Sarazene steigt vom Pferd , und geht in eine Hütte . Nach kurzer Zeit
kommt er mit einem sehr Hässlichen Beduinen wieder heraus . Der Alte geht die
Reihe ab , und fasst den einen oder anderen an . Der ältere Sohn des Barons
tritt nach ihm , als er ihn anfassen will . Der Alte schlägt ihm daraufhin
zwischen die Beine und der Knabe geht stöhnend in die Knie . Mir streicht der
Alte über mein Feuerrotes Haar , betastet meine mit Sommersprossen überzogene
Haut , und streichelt mich zwischen den Beinen . Ich beiße mir auf die Zunge ,
damit mein Schwanz nicht steif wird . Dann geht der Alte wieder zu dem
Sarazenen und sie klatschen sich ihre Hände . Nach einer Zeit greift der Alte
unter seinen Kaftan , holt einen ledernen Sack hervor und zählt dem Sarazenen
einige Münzen in die Hand . Der Sarazene steigt auf sein Pferd , grüsst den
Alten und reitet davon .
Der Alte sagt irgendwas zu den beiden Jungen und verschwindet in der Hütte.
Die beiden kommen wie Katzen auf uns zu . Sie holen Messer aus ihren Gewändern
. Dann fangen sie an uns unsere verlumpten Klamotten vom Leibe zu schneiden .
Bei jedem der schon Schamhaare hat schnattern sie aufgeregt und offensichtlich
hocherfreut . Die jüngeren von uns , beachten sie kaum .
Nachdem wir alle splitternackt sind , werden unsere Sachen auf einen Haufen
geworfen und verbrannt . Dann zerren die beiden einen der älteren Jungen auf
einen Holzbock , binden ihn daran fest , ziehen ihm die Beine auseinander und
Binden sie auch fest .
Der Junge hat schon einen dichten schwarzen Busch über seinem Schwanz .
Die beiden fangen an den Jungen zu wichsen . Als er in hohem Bogen abspritzt ,
freuen sich die beiden wie verrückt . Sie wichsen ihn noch zweimal ab . Dann
schneiden sie ihm das Schamhaar restlos ab , prüfen noch mal ihre Arbeit und
bringen ihn wieder in die Reihe . So ergeht es einem nach dem anderen . Als
der ältere Sohn des Barons an der Reihe ist , macht er wieder Sperenzchen ,
aber ein Schlag in die Eier stellt ihn ruhig . Ich kann sehen , das sein Busch
genauso Weißblond ist wie seine Haare . Auch er wird ein paar Mal abgewichst
und rasiert . Als alle rasiert sind , werden auch die gewichst , die noch
keine Haare zwischen den Beinen haben . Bei denen die schon steif werden ,
versuchen die beiden ihn zum abspritzen zu bringen . Bei manchem klappt es
auch . Alle die einen Steifen kriegen , und abspritzen , werden mit einem
schwarzen Punkt auf dem Bauch markiert . Als sie mich bearbeiten beiße ich mir
die Zunge blutig , und er wird nicht Steif . Nach Beendigung riefen die zwei
etwas , und der Alte kam aus der Hütte . Er begutachtete uns und kam direkt
auf mich zu . Er streichelte meinen Schwanz und sagte etwas zu den beiden
Jungen und verschwand wieder . Ich wurde aus der Reihe genommen und in die
Hütte gebracht . Hier wurde ich neben zwei großen Hunden angebunden . In der
Hütte , war ein Tisch mit Seilen an jeder Ecke . Die beiden Knaben brachten
einen der Rasierten herein , legten ihn auf den Tisch und banden Arme und
Beine fest . Der Alte erschien hinter einem Vorhang , und legte einige
Instrumente neben den Rasierten . Dann schob er ihm ein Beißholz in den Mund .
Die beiden Knaben standen neben dem Tisch und Grinsten den Jungen an . Der
Alte nahm nun einen Lederriemen , band eine Schlaufe und legte diese um
Schwanz und Hodensack des Jungen . Er zog die Schlinge sehr fest an . Dann
nahm er ein Messer und schnitt Schwanz und Sack ab . Der Junge schrie während
des Schneidens wie ein Tier in das Beißholz und als seine Teile ab waren
wimmerte er nur noch . Der Alte warf die Teile einem der Hunde zu der sie
gierig verschlang . Dann drückte er ein glühendes Eisen auf die Wunde ,
entfernte den Riemen und drückte einen Holzpflock in die Harnröhre . Die
beiden Knaben banden den Jungen los ,und brachten ihn aus einer anderen Tür
weg . Allen Rasierten und alle mit Punkt auf dem Bauch wurden Schwanz und Sack
abgeschnitten . Danach kamen die anderen dran . Hier legte der Alte die
Schlinge nur um den Hodensack und auch ihnen wurden die Eier weg- geschnitten
. Die Hunde hatten einen Guten Tag . Dann kam der kleine Baron . Der Alte nahm
eine Schlinge aus einem Wassergefäß , und band damit den Sack ab . Fertig .
Durch das trocknen des Leders zieht sich die Schlinge noch mehr zusammen .
Nach einem Tag wurde der Sack Weiß, dann Bräunlich und später Schwarz . Nach
ein paar Tagen fiel er von selbst ab . Und so wurden alle Jüngeren Kastriert .
Am Abend habe ich als einziger von uns noch Pimmel und Sack . Ich sollte auch
bald erfahren warum . Die beiden Araberjungen binden mich los , und bringen
mich auf den Hof . Sie waschen mich von Kopf bis Fuß . Dann bringen sie mich
in die Hütte , und dort in einen Prachtvollen Raum . Sie binden mir die Füße
zusammen und legen mich auf weiche Kissen . Dann verschwinden sie .Nach einer
Weile kommt der Alte und legt sich neben mich . Er fängt an mich zwischen den
Beinen zu streicheln . Ich kann nicht verhindern das mein Schwanz hart wird .
Er lächelt zufrieden und zieht seinen Kaftan aus .
Was für ein Hässlicher Kerl . Runzlige Haut und ein beschnittener,
verschrumpelter , dunkelbrauner Pimmel .
Er löst meine Fußfesseln, drückt meine Beine auseinander und fängt an mich zu
Ficken .
Dabei Küsst er mich und streichelt meine Nippel . Das wiederholt sich noch
zweimal , dann Fesselt er mich wieder und Schläft ein .
In den nächsten Tagen muss ich mich um meine Kameraden kümmern .
Ich muss ihre Wunden mit einer Salbe einreiben , und die Holzpflöcke reinigen
und wieder in ihre Harnröhren einführen . Ich kann mich auch um den kleinen
Baron kümmern . Ihn in den Arm nehmen , Streicheln und seinen schwarzen
vertrockneten Sack untersuchen . Nach einer Woche fällt sein Sack ab, und nach
zwei Wochen sind alle Wunden abgeheilt . Ich werde noch jede Nacht gefickt ,
und jetzt muss ich Dem Alten auch noch den Pimmel lutschen .
Eines Tages kommen zwei Beduinen . Der Alte bittet sie in die Hütte . Die
beiden Araberjungen treiben die Eunuchen in den Hof . Dort wird jeder einzelne
von den Beduinen untersucht . Dann beginnt das altbekannte Händeklatschen und
der Alte erhält drei prall gefüllte Ledersäcke voll Münzen . Die Eunuchen
müssen sich eine fast durchsichtige Pluderhose anziehen . Ich trage so eine
schon ein paar Tage .Dann werden sie im Entenmarsch gefesselt weggeführt .
Nach sechs Monaten , spreche ich Arabisch . Ich erfahre das der Alte
Eunuchenmacher ist und Ali heißt . Die Jungen sind seine Söhne Ali und Mohamed
. Ali ist Neun und Mohamed acht Jahre alt . Ich werde auch nicht mehr
gefesselt . Aber noch immer Gefickt . Wenn eine Herde Knaben kommt , muss ich
ihnen die Sachen vom Körper schneiden . Fasst immer sind es Schwarze und die
haben nur einen Lendenschurz an . Abwichsen tun immer Ali und Mohamed . Und
wenn einer abspritzt rufen sie laut : Das war das letzte mal . Das war das
letzte mal , und sie lachen laut . Ich muss immer zusehen wenn der alte Ali
die Jungen Kastriert .
Die Hunde werden schön Fett .
Ich muss auch immer die Wunden Pflegen .
**Vier Jahre später .
**
Ich habe mich an mein Leben hier gewöhnt und so was wie eine
Vertrauensstellung . Meine Hoden habe ich auch noch . Und Ich werde immer noch
Gefickt . Manchmal schickt mich der Alte in die Stadt , etwas besorgen oder
einen Eunuchen abliefern . Er ermahnt mich , “Schwanz und Sack nach Hinten
binden . Sonst sieht jeder das du noch Bestückt bist , und wir alle werden
Bestraft.” Meinen Feuerroten Schamhaar Busch, rasiere ich vor jedem Gang ab .
Eines Tages werde ich in die Stadt geschickt um einen Eunuchen abzuliefern .
In einem Lokal übergebe ich ihn seinem neuen Besitzer . Dem Wirt . Als ich
mich verabschieden will ,sagt der zu mir : “ Bleib noch , gleich wirst du
etwas Erleben was du nie Vergessen wirst . Und tatsächlich . Ein Eunuch betrat
die kleine Bühne und begann Erotisch zu tanzen . Mir fiel das Kinn runter .
Der Eunuch war niemand anderes als der Ältere Bruder des kleinen Barons . Er
war splitternackt und hatte langes weißblondes Haar . Zwischen seinen Beinen
schimmerte sein kleiner Haarbusch in der gleichen Farbe . Er war schlank ,
aber ich glaube er hatte kleine Brüste bekommen . “Wer am meisten Bietet darf
eine Nacht mit ihm verbringen “ rief der Wirt .
Ich konnte es nicht fassen . Dieser Arrogante Junge , der Stolz neben seinem
Vater durch das Kreuzfahrer Lager ritt . _Der Nächste Baron ._ Der Leute wie
mich keines Blickes würdigte , musste Hier in einem Puff nackt und Kastriert
tanzen und Sich anschließend auch noch Ficken lassen .
**Noch drei Jahre später**. Meine Eier sind immer noch dran . Ich bin jetzt
Neunzehn Jahre alt . Mittlerweile habe ich gelernt Knaben zu kastrieren . Die
Augen des Alten sind nicht mehr so gut . Aber sein Schwanz steht noch wie
Einst . Besorgungen sind immer noch meine Sache . Eines Tages Habe ich eine
Begegnung wie im Märchen . Ein Fabelwesen kommt mir entgegen . Es ist der
kleine Baron . Weißblond , wunderschön und ein kleiner Penis schimmert durch
die durchsichtige Pluderhose . Ich spreche ihn an . Er erinnert sich an mich .
Wir sprechen einige Zeit miteinander . Er wird von seinem Herrn brutal
behandelt .
“Aber so ist es nun mal als Eunuch” sagt er . “” Von Wegen Eunuch” sage ich
und lege seine Hand zwischen meine Beine . Er ist Erstaunt das ich noch meine
Eier habe. Wir verabreden uns zu losen weiteren Treffen .
Als ich nach Hause komme Sagt der Alte zu mir “Morgen wirst du Kastriert . Es
ist höchste Zeit dafür .”
Abends geht der Alte in die Stadt . Ich muss Fliehen , aber nicht ohne Rache .
Ich schnappe Ali und Mohamed , fessele sie , und Kastriere alle Beide. Der
Alte soll sich wundern. Dann nehme ich alles Geld und Kleidung und Fliehe .
Aber ich will den Baron Mitnehmen . Ich Weiß wo er Lebt . Ich Pfeife und er
kommt . Er bekommt Frauenkleider an und wird tief Verschleiert . Wir laufen
zum Hafen , und nehmen ein Auslaufendes Schiff . Nach einem Jahr treffen wir
im Heimatort von Manfred , so Heißt er , ein . Seine Mutter lebt noch , und Er
wird Manfred , Neunter Baron von Falkenberg . Und wir beide ein Liebespaar .
Er Heiratet eine Grafentochter . Aber die Ehe ist Politisch , und besteht nur
auf dem Papier. In der Hochzeitsnacht muss ich Manfred vertreten . Seine Frau
bemerkt es im Dunkeln nicht . Er bekommt einen Sohn. Gottseidank hat er Braune
Haare , wie seine Mutter .
Das der Neunte Baron ein Eunuch ist , wird nie bekannt .
Das sein Bruder Nackt Tanzen muss , habe ich Manfred nie erzählt .
Wir Beide haben ein gutes , langes Leben geführt .
**EPILOG:
**
Einen weißblonden Baron von Falkenberg wie es sie seit Generationen gab, hat
es nach Manfred nie wieder gegeben. **
**
Aber viele Nachfahren der Familie Falkenberg sollen Feuerrote Haare gehabt
haben , und den ganzen Körper voller Sommersprossen !
* * * |
Twisted Love | STRAIGHT, PENECTOMY | When a college crush become a hooker years later, a fantasy can become reality. | I first laid eyes on Ally when I was in college; I was a junior, she was a
freshman. She was my girlfriend's younger sister. She was perfect in every
way.
I didn't make any move then, but I wanted her from day one. Two years later
her sister and I broke up. She had just broken up with some guy, so we got
together, went out for some drinks. Her eyes sparkled, her hair ran in golden
cascades to her shoulders, perfect shoulders, above perfect breasts.
We made out behind the bar, in a dirty alley. I grabbed her perfect ass, my
dick rock hard and grinding into her leg. That's when she started crying.
I went home with blue balls. I had an erection the whole way home- it felt
dirty, stained from the alleyway. A dirty mind, a dirty dick, a dirty soul. I
wished I could just get rid of it. Be free from all the problems, all the
pain. All the desire. I jerked off at home, imagining cutting it off and
giving it to her as an apology, to show she meant more to me than sex.
I tried to talk to her next week, tried to tell her how I felt. She explained
through tears it just wasn't right. When I wouldn't listen, she shut the door
in my face.
What a jerk I was.
I went my way, and she went hers. I heard she moved down to Los Angeles, tried
to start a career as a professional actress. I heard stories about drugs, wild
parties, failed auditions. I saw her twice through the years, and each time
she seemed worse. Deteriorating.
The fantasies never left me, and each time I thought of her. I imagined a
dozen different ways she could take my dirty cock, that would make me hers,
and her mine.
The beginning of the end came when my career took me to LA. I got in touch
with some aquaintances, and found out she'd taken to stripping, and even
turning tricks. I stopped by the place she danced, sat in the shadows, in the
back. She came out like the goddess she was, radiant in the spotlight, her
perfect tits naked and free where I could see them- for the first time. My
cock grew rigid immediately, but all I wanted was for her to take it from me.
After the dance, I fled the bar in a haze of lust.
A few days later, my heart pounding in my throat, I called her up. I explained
I'd moved to town, gotten her number from a friend. I worked into conversation
that I'd heard she was dancing, and asked if she'd mind if I came and watched
some night. She didn't like that- she was silent for so long I was afraid she
wouldn't answer. Finally she said, "fine," and we agreed on Thursday.
After the dance, she came and sat at my table. Up close, she looked like shit.
There were dark bags under her eyes. She was thin as a rail. I felt sorry for
her; I just wanted to take her in my arms, hold her, protect her, tell her
everything was going to be okay. That was a nice dream, but the reality was
her and me, sitting at arms length, oceans apart, as she spilled her guts and
told me all about her rotten life.
Halfway through I was starting to be able to tell this wasn't a call for
sympathy, she was asking for something. She dropped it at the end, asking me
for a loan, just a little something, to help her get through the month. Three
hundred dollars.
This was one of those moments when the world turns. Different paths open up
before you, and you pick one. I swallowed hard, and said that I'd give it to
her if she gave me a blowjob in the back of my car. Sometimes, once you say
something, you can never go back.
She looked me right in the eye for almost the first time, and maybe it was my
imagination, but I thought I could see something die in her eyes. Finally she
told me to meet her in half an hour. She had another dance coming up, and this
time- it was directed right at me. Every brush of my pants against my cock was
sweet torture. I blamed my cock, that delicious swollen tumescence which ruled
my life. If only I could be free of it...
A few minutes after the dance, she appeared in the doorway, in a long coat,
beckoning me. Within a few moments, we were in my car, her delicate, long
fingers (which I had always loved) pulling down my zipper. I groaned when she
brought it out, and she went down on me like a pro. It felt so good to be
rigid and out in the open, to feel her tongue rolling around my head, to feel
her teeth- Oh god! I told her to bite it for me, just a bit, and she gave me a
quizzical look, but she did it obligingly. I told her, "harder" and she did it
harder. My knees locked and hot cum spurted down my shaft into her mouth,
spasm after spasm of it- and at that moment, a strange thing happened. All
sensation vanished from my cock. It was a nerveless appendage, performing a
purely mechanical function of spurting. The truth hit me with brilliant
clarity- I wanted her to bite it off. No other way. She had to bite it.
I was so flustered by this thought, I could hardly think as she wiped the cum
from her lips. I pulled out three hundreds from my wallet and handed them to
her, my mouth open, but no words coming out. She kissed me on the cheek, her
eyes flat, and let herself out of the car.
I spent the next weeks in a frenzy of lust, too excited to think of anything
but her, too nervous to call her. I wrote page after page of fantasies, drew
designs for penis guillotines and amateur depictions of women's teeth biting
off raging cocks. I chain-masturbated- or spent days at a time trying to deny
myself orgasms, trying to imagine what it would be like without it. All the
time, I couldn't wait for it to end, to be free of my member forever- but each
time I thought that, it's hold over me grew stronger, and I could think of
nothing but it swollen in my pants, demanding its next release.
Then she called me. When I picked up the phone and heard her voice, I was so
stunned I almost couldn't speak at first.
"Hello?" she said, "Hello? Are you there?"
Finally, "Yeah, hi, it's me. What's up?"
"I was wondering... do you want to get together again?" she asked softly,
"I... I need another loan."
I swallowed hard, trying to envision how I would tell her what I wanted, but I
only said, "Sure thing."
When we met up, outside a park late at night, she looked even worse than
before. She tried to make out with me under the streetlights, but I just felt
repulsed. I wanted it to be real, not like this. I took her hand in mine and
said, "Listen... I wanted to tell you something."
"Please, don't-" she said, "I don't need to hear it-" angry tears lay just
under the surface.
"No wait! You don't understand, I-" my voice froze up.
She looked about ready to turn away, but stopped, waiting, listening.
"I want you to do something very special for me. Something different." I said,
picking my words carefully. She looked skeptical, so I added, "I would be
willing to pay you a lot of money."
Suddenly, she looked ready to smile again. She moved close to me, pressing her
breasts against my belly. She took my hand and whispered, "Let's go to your
car..."
In the car, she unzipped my pants, and took out my cock, which was strangely
only semi-hard. It stiffened rapidly under her touch, and more so when I
thought of what I was about to say.
"I want you to hold it in your hand. I want you to look at my cock, and feel
it in your fingers, as I tell you this. I have a fantasy..." my heart was
beating so hard I could hardly speak, "...of not having that anymore."
She gave me kind of a quizzical look, but seemed willing to listen. She asked,
"your dick?" and gave it a friendly stroke- which made me gasp in illicit
pleasure and a drop of pre-cum emerge from it's head.
"Yeah. I imagine not having it anymore." As I said that, I was keenly aware of
every inch of it, embraced loosely in her palm.
She made a face, like she only now really understood what I was saying, and
said, "You mean, like, cut it off!?"
If possible, it stiffened even further, and I had to catch my breath before
continuing, "Yeah. Like that."
"What would you do? I mean, how would you enjoy sex after that?" she asked,
sounding half disgusted and half curious.
"Well, I guess I wouldn't anymore." I couldn't believe I was sitting here,
talking about this, with the girl of my dreams. In the shadows of my car, I
couldn't see the bags under her eyes. They sparkled in the light from the
single streetlamp, and I felt again what it was like to be in love.
"Okay, this is too wierd- I'm sorry, but don't involve me in your sick
fantasies." She dropped my erection and drew her coat around herself, starting
to reach for the door.
"Wait! Please! Just- I'll pay you two thousand dollars!" She froze. The number
hung between us for a long moment.
"You're fucking serious!?" she asked me, "You fucking want me to cut off your
fucking prick?"
"I'm dead serious." I said soberly. She stared at me, then said, "Why?"
The words came to me as naturally as if I'd rehearsed them, even though in all
my fantasies it had never occured to me she might ask this question. I said,
"Because I'm in love with you. I've been in love with you for years, and this
is the only way I can show you how much I care. I want you to have the most
precious part of me, and if you won't take me with it... I still want you to
take it."
A shadow fell over her face, years of pain, abuse and failure in a single
shadow.
"I don't deserve that." she said.
"Yes you do." I replied, not missing a beat.
"You don't know me, asshole! You don't know me at all! You think I'm some
pretty goddess you can fuck and leave- no, I forgot, you're too good for that
shit, you think you're some knight in shining armor who can come in and save
me by making a fucking statement, and that I'm some too good for words
princess who will make you happy forever and ever! Well I'm not that girl, and
you're not that guy. You're a fucked up loser who wants a hooker to cut off
his prick, and I'm a fucked up whore who needs the money badly enough that she
just might do it."
I expected her to start crying, and for a moment I thought I heard her voice
breaking, but when she stopped speaking, she was as still as she had been
before. No emotion on her face but the shadow.
I lowered my eyes, then said softly, "Maybe if I didn't have it in the first
place, I could have been something better. Maybe if no men had them, you could
have been something better." I rolled my head back and continued, "You don't
have to love me Ally, just do this for me. Take this gift. Set me free."
"You're fucking serious, aren't you."
"Yes, I am."
"Two thousand dollars?"
I felt my heart sink a little, but said, "yes."
She looked at my cock, now wilting, still sticking out through my zipper like
a thick, flaccid, pink worm, and she asked, "When, right now?"
As if sensing her gaze on it, my member began to swell again- possibly for the
last time. I replied, "Yes. I love you. Right now."
She shook her head and sighed, then looked around the car and said, "We don't
have a knife."
"Actually," I said, reaching for her hand and placing it on my now engorged
cock, "I wanted you to bite it off."
She raised one eyebrow, and looked at it with her eyes wide, saying, "How much
of it do you want me to get?"
"The whole thing," I said, groaning internally, "You can deepthroat, you did
it last time."
She still looked skeptical, so I said, "It'll already be partway down your
throat, so you can just swallow it whole as soon as it's off. I took her other
hand for emphasis.
"Won't you bleed to death?" she asked.
"There's a hospital just around the corner. We don't have to tell them
anything. Really- I want you to do this!" Seeing her doubt, I continued, "and
I'll pay you two thousand dollars for it."
She gave my cock a few rubs, getting it fully stiff again. I let my eyes
flutter closed, feeling her hands feel the shape of the rod. It pulsed in her
hand, pleasureable, but also alien. Like something already disassociated from
me.
"Do you want me to do anything first? Like, have sex, or play with it? Do
anything to it?"
A vision crossed my brain of her lowering herself onto my stiff pole, and with
a touch of regret I said, "No, as soon as I'm inside you I'm going to cum, and
I want you to bite it off right when I cum."
"Yeah, I guess my cunt doesn't have any teeth. Too bad." She looked at it,
contemplating it's length, then adjusted herself to position it in front of
her mouth.
"You ready?" she asked.
I took a deep breath, feeling my last orgasm already pulsing deep in my groin,
then nodded. The last words before she took it in her mouth were, "I hope
you've said your goodbyes..."
Her mouth was pure heaven, her tongue and lips embracing my stiff member, and
I could feel her teeth scraping the top and the bottom. I tried to hold out,
trying to prolong these last sensations as long as possible, but it was a lost
cause, I was too horny already. I thrust my hips and groaned, "AH- I'm almost
there!"
She pulled back, the wet head of my dick popping out of her mouth, and said,
"Wait! I need to get it all the way in first!"
My body cried out at the removal of such delicious sensations, and I stared at
her dumbly as she said, "Let me get in a better position. I need to actually
swallow the head of it, you know- without throwing up."
She shifted her position again, kneeling between my spread legs, her ass
pointed toward the passenger side window. She started to take it in her mouth
again, the licked her lips and said, "Alright, tell me when it's deep enough.
I won't be able to move much, but I'll try to get as much in my mouth as I
can, and you can hump my throat to cum. Just tell me when and I'll- you know-
bite."
Inch by inch I watched as my most precious flesh disappeared into her mouth,
hard as a rock and never to be seen again. I didn't feel much the first few
inches, as it just entered the cavity of her mouth. Then I felt her swallow
the head of it. Her throat was pointed in a straight line away from my groin,
and her mouth just kept on coming up my shaft. I pushed back the clothes and
flesh from the base of it, trying to make as much as possible of it available
for her.
Her lips and teeth closed on it, near the base, and she made a kind of
inquisitive grunting sound. I responded, "No, try to get just a little more
in." I lifted myself up off the seat, thrusting every last millimeter into her
mouth. She pulled back her lips, and I felt her teeth close on the absolute
base.
My cock was now halfway down her throat; it just needed to go the rest of the
way. And I was ready for it. There was little solid stimulation, which made me
able to hold off cumming for a few moments, and every inch of my erection was
thrilling with pleasure. I was in seventh heaven, my cock at last fully buried
in Ally, who was about to take it forever. I would never have to pull out.
In the lack of stimulation, I had to rely on pure arousal to push me over the
edge. When I realized I would never, ever have to take my cock out of her
mouth, I wrapped my hands in her hair and moaned, "Ally, baby, I'm cumming,
bite my cock off! Bite it off now!"
Hot jets of semen shot down the length of my pulsing organ, right to the
depths of her throat, where they were instinctively swallowed (as my cock
would be in only a moment) and as soon as the first pulse hit the back of her
throat, her teeth clamped down on me hard.
Pain mixed with pleasure to become something more than either- but she stopped
tightening her jaw. I felt my root constricted between her teeth, pinched to
less than half it's original width, crushing the swollen tissue- but I knew
she could bite harder and wasn't.
"Bite it off!" I demanded through the orgasm, but she didn't.
After the spurts stopped coming, she pulled her mouth off me and pushed her
hair back. She made a gagging noise, then got control of herself, but wouldn't
look me in the eye.
"Why didn't you...?" I asked, my penis growing flaccid, white impressions of
her teeth on it.
"You are fucking sick. You need to see a doctor. I never want to see you
again." She jumped out of the car and slammed the door behind her, leaving me
with my wilting cock sticking out of my pants, still wet from cum and saliva.
"Wait!" I cried, trying to zip up my pants and get out of the car at the same
time. But she was already disappearing into the night.
"Fuck- FUCK!" I shouted, then jumped back in the car and drove home.
I lay awake all night, thinking of her, alternating between stroking myself
and not touching it at all, just feeling it lay against my belly apparently
permanently swollen. The next morning I called her, but there was no answer. I
called her again a few hours later, and then again not long after that.
I thought about seeing a therapist, maybe she was right. Maybe I was fucked up
and needed help. Something about it seemed wrong, but I just couldn't put my
finger on it. I couldn't get the image of my cock deep in her throat, with her
about to bite it off and swallow it forever, out of my mind. She would digest
it. It might sit in her belly for weeks before being fully broken down. Would
it give her indigestion?
It would become a part of her forever. The protein in my flesh would break
down and become the material used to build her flesh, her tits, her ass, her
clit, her organs, everything. Touching that flesh, I wanted it more than words
could say. I couldn't bring myself to orgasm anymore. I was touching myself
all the time, but I couldn't cum. Without her there, it just seemed pointless.
I called in sick three days to work in a row, lounging naked in my apartment
and staring out the window at the city lights. I must have tried calling her a
dozen times.
On the third day, the phone rang, and I jumped for it, "Hello?"
There was no response at first, and I wondered who it might be that I had just
jumped on. Then her voice came, "I want five thousand dollars."
I swayed, though from the figure or from the pleasure of hearing her voice, I
couldn't be sure. I blurted, "Fine, yes. I can get it to you." I wasn't sure
how... I probably could get that much out of my credit cards.
"And a wad of coke." she added, her voice flat. "A big one."
"Okay, anything! When can you meet me?"
"I'll come to your apartment tonight. Have the money and the coke ready." She
hung up.
My cock was at full mast, ready to be sacrificed, as I slowly placed the phone
on the reciever. For the first time in three days, I dressed fully, and went
out to get the payment. The money was hard, but the coke was harder. I called
a number of old contacts, friends of friends, finally someone hooked me up
with someone who hooked me up with someone who could hook me up. I made it
clear it was urgent, and I'm sure they ripped me off, but I didn't care. I was
barely back to my apartment as the sun set, with $5000 in cash and a plastic
baggie full of white powder, packed as big as my fist.
The doorbell rang at quarter past 8:00. I answered in my best silk robe, the
apartment spotless. She was standing before me with two other girls. When I
opened the door, she grabbed me by the robe and kissed me on the lips- we made
out like we hadn't since that one night, years ago.
She brushed past me, the two girls following, and said, "It's your last night,
lover boy, and I'm going to make it good for you."
She did. The girls put on music and cleared a space in the floor for dancing.
They had me watch at first, stripping their sexy, firm bodies for my pleasure.
Then they pulled me up and danced with me, passing me between them, grinding
their tight bodies into me from all sides. We all snorted, and the world
became lights and lust and tits.
They kneeled down next to me, right on the dance floor, opening my robe to
show my raging erection. All three of them sucked on it, taking turns,
grinding their asses in the air with me standing between them like a
conquering god of sex.
One of them produced a condom, and pulled it onto my tight skin. Then I fucked
them in turn, hands pressed against the wall, ass out for my approval, or
thrown down on the floor, humping tight and hard. I wasn't even sure who I was
fucking anymore- I just fucked and fucked. I had the stamina of a demon- it
wouldn't go down, and I couldn't cum. Not until the right moment.
At some point, I found myself on the couch, Ally herself above me, her pupils
dilated but staring into mine, her tits naked in the blue and golden light,
about to lower her steaming cunt onto my length. I reached down and ripped off
the condom, and she didn't say a word, but simply plunged herself onto me.
Her wetness was out of this world. A tight, feminine grip on my cock that I
couldn't deny any longer. She pumped up and down, up and down, mesmerizing. I
reached for her ass, missed once, then grabbed it, guiding her strokes to
maximize my pleasure.
Then I felt the roiling in my balls, and I knew the time had come. I cried
out, "Hold still! Don't let me cum! You need to-" I gulped. She sank onto me
so that my full length was embedded in her, and looked into my eyes. She was
fucked up. We both were. It was true love.
She giggled a little bit, then said, "You want me to bite it off?" tracing one
finger across my chest.
My lips parted in a heavy pant, "Yes, god yes!" I tried to thrust myself even
deeper into her, hugging her hips with my palms.
She giggled again and said, "You don't want *this* anymore?" At that moment
she clenched her vagina on my cock, a squeeze of eternal pleasure.
I sank my head in her tit, eyes closed, barely aware of what I was saying,
"Yes, yes... do that with your teeth- please!"
She stood up, pulling off of me with a wet, disappointing pop. She pulled out
the white bag and started drawing a line, saying, "Your dick will never be in
another slit again. That was the last time you'll ever have sex."
"What are you doing?" I asked, trying to keep my focus on her.
She laughed and looked at me almost affectionately, saying, "You think I could
bite through some guys dick if I'm not hopped up?" She sprinkled something
onto the white line, and up it all went. Her eyes rolled back, and for a
moment, it seemed to me as if she were looking at heaven.
One of the other girls crawled up onto the couch next to me, her tits large
and plump underneath her. She giggled and asked, "Is it time?"
"Yeah..." I answered, feeling surreal.
"That's Missy," Ally explained with a giggle, "She's a cock hungry bitch. She
wishes she were gonna get it." The two girls looked at each other, giggling.
"You don't think its... wierd?" I asked.
"Hell, if some fucked up john wants his thing bitten off, what do I care?" she
answered with a shrug, "I just wanna watch!"
"Would you do it- if I'd asked you?" I asked her, trying to comprehend. By
answer, she just opened her mouth, pulling back her lips to show her teeth,
and bit down sharply. Then she giggled again, rolling in toward the pillows.
"This one's mine, bitch! Get out of here!" Ally slapped in Missy's direction,
who just rolled and giggled some more, biting a pillow.
Ally looked up at me, her eyes wide and bright. She took my cock in both her
hands and asked, "You ready, lover?"
I breathed, "Yes," and she took it in her mouth. It was as if the stars had
aligned along the axis of my cock. It was the best blowjob I have ever had,
bar none. Wet pillows of tongue and mouth interspersed with hard lines of
teeth embraced my cock, devouring it eagerly.
At one point she popped free and said, "I am so fucked up," looking at the
cieling and swaying. She tossed her hair and said, "you better want this
lover, because when you tell me to bite, I'll bite this fucker off." Then she
went back down on me. Missy slapped her ass and shouted, "bite it hard, girl!"
Pure pleasure enveloped my world when her mouth hit the head of my cock, and I
felt myself, deep inside, saying goodbye to this part of myself. This was the
end of an era, a gift that could never be taken back, a sacrifice that could
never be unmade. It was also freedom, freedom from this dirty den, with dirty
hookers, freedom from a life driven by my dirty penis.
She must have felt my cock stiffening, the warning signs of orgasm, because
she smoothly took it deep in her mouth and swallowed. I felt her lips kissing
the base of it, almost like she was kissing it goodbye, and she bit
experimentally. I found myself whispering, "get it all..." and thrusting
forward, and she moved her teeth farther up, to the very base of the shaft.
Every inch of it, from the glans to the flare of it, every lovely millimeter
of my erection was lost forever inside her mouth. My nerves could still feel
it, but it was an illusion, a memory of something I had once had. My orgasm
took me by surprise. I felt the spurt first, and then the wave of pleasure hit
me, and then another spurt, and another. I grabbed her hair- and suddenly
realized she was waiting for me to say the word.
"Bite!" I shouted, "Bite my cock off!" Grabbing her hair with both hands and
shoving my cock into her face.
She did. It was a sudden rush of pain, nearly overwhelming, that interrupted
the rythmic spurts which were so familiar to my body. I screamed in pain, or
maybe I didn't, and was vaguely aware of Missy shouting something. Then she
bit again, and this time it hurt more. I doubled over, trying to get away, but
her teeth were relentless- they wouldn't let go. A third time pain ripped
through my groin, and she was free of me.
I opened my eyes to see her tilt her head back and swallow. I could see the
lump as the thickness of what used to be my flesh passed down her throat. In a
surreal flash I was reminded of the way a bird throws back its head and
swallows a live fish. The lump disappeared from her throat as she finished
swallowing, and she looked back down at me, her eyes bright and dilated, her
lips smiling and red with blood.
Blood- barely conscious, I grabbed the nearest thing at hand, a pillow, and
shoved it against my groin to control the bleeding.
"Call 911" I murmured. Ally looked at me uncomprehending. Missy was next to
me, masturbating her clit furiously and watching the scene. I wasn't sure
where the other girl was.
"Oh god..." I stumbled to my feet, blocking the pain (which was surprisingly
dull right now) and staggered to the phone. I punched in the numbers and
stammered, "help me, please- I think I- I need medical attention. My..."
That was as far as I got before blacking out.
When I came to, I was in a hospital. The first thought I had was the
awkwardness of how I would explain this to the doctors. Thankfully, they
didn't ask me any questions at first, just greeted me, gave me more meds, and
put me back to sleep.
Once I had recovered a bit, I met with a doctor, who explained to me that they
had cleaned up the wound, and that I would be fine, although as they hadn't
been able to locate the missing organ, they were afraid reattachment was
impossible. I simply nodded. I could tell they all pitied me. They probably
assumed an angry hooker had done it as revenge, and I didn't see any need to
explain the truth.
They let me out after a week, and I went back to work. At first, it was like
living in a dream. Ally loomed before me in my imagination, with bright eyes
and bloodstained teeth. This world seemed dark and dreary by comparison.
But I got used to it, and eventually, Ally started to seem like the dream. For
the first time, I felt myself waking up to the world. The feel of the wind as
I sat on a parkbench. The satisfaction in doing my job well. I was no longer
interested in women, other than to glance at an attractive one as she passed
by, now and again.
I found that I could still orgasm. The stump was quite sensitive, though
nothing like what I used to experience down there. It took a lot of work and
patience to coax out those little white drops, and after a while, it didn't
seem worth it anymore. For a few months, I went online now and again, to look
at all the porn sites I used to jerk off to. After a while, it just didn't do
anything for me anymore. There was nothing to play with.
My focus shifted to other things, and I was happy. But I always wondered what
had happened to Ally. What had she done with all that money and drugs? Where
had she gone? Had she turned her life around, or did she wind up dead in a
gutter somewhere?
Many years later, I was browsing an alternative bookstore when I found a book
with her name on the jacket. My fingers trembling, I reached for the book and
opened to the Author page, in the back. There was her face, more grown up now,
but definitely her. I felt like a wave rolled out from the page and washed
over me, and the image rose in my mind of the last time I had seen that face,
with a bloodstained smile, so many years ago but as vivid in my mind as the
day before.
I bought the book on the spot, took it home, and read it cover to cover. It
was about her near descent into madness, about the sex scene in LA, from a
cultural anthropologist's point of view. Her name had a PhD after it, now.
She never talked about what it was that turned her around, that pulled her out
of that scene, a curious absence from such a book. Only I knew the truth.
After I finished reading, I lowered the book to my bed, and the pages opened
to the dedication at the front. Somehow, I had been in such a hurry I had
skipped it at the beginning. It said, "To the one, special man, who sacrificed
a part of himself to set me free."
Heart pounding, I read the line again and again. I was no longer young, and
niether was she. She might be married now, have kids, for all I know. But a
part of me was still with her, inside her.
I moved to the telephone, distractedly, feeling as if I was floating as I
moved, and dialed the publishing company for the book.
When I young secretary picked up the phone I cleared my throat and asked,
"Hello, I was wondering if it's possible to contact an author?"
* * * |
The Lycian Prince 31 | GAY, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION, MINOR | Poor Anthonius is trained to be a good boy. | ` Chapter 31 – Training (Hist, b/b) `
(June 291 A.D.)
Casperius had become suspicious of the amount of time that Anthonius was
taking to recover from his tortures, especially as the Praetorian captain had
a reputation for speedy healing, and so went to look at the boy himself with
Armillatus’ former eunuch slave, now temporarily redundant. Their conclusion
was that Anthonius had fully recovered and the major domo began to wonder
about the relationship between the officer and the lad. Casperius recognised
that there was no chance of Anthonius disappearing as mysteriously as Sura
because of the imminent arrival of the boy’s mother and sister in Rome. The
major domo therefore decided to take the lad out of the dungeons and return
him in chains to the boy companion harem, where Armillatus’ Nubian was
allocated his supervision. Anthonius was allocated Sura’s old quarters and
minuscule thong attire, the latter so that his new bodily decorations could be
enjoyed fully by all. Casperius reasoned that he could keep a better, more
secure, watch on Anthonius in the harem, especially as the boy would remain
permanently chained, with hands behind back and a short linkage between the
two ankle manacles. The major domo would also have some final opportunities to
humiliate the boy whilst awaiting implementation of Niachiarus’ pleasant plan
for the lad’s much less pleasant future.
Diocletian also enjoyed the temporary return of his former boy favourite.
After that night’s banquet, the Emperor had Anthonius brought before him and
the boy companions in the pleasure chamber. As usual, Casperius was in
attendance, and his face was to bear a constant look of happy amusement
throughout proceedings. The boy companions all laughed when they saw that
Anthonius had to shuffle in, because of the shortness of the chain that
connected his two ankle manacles, and were even more ecstatic when Diocletian
ordered him to turn slowly so that everyone could see the brands all over his
body. As Anthonius did so, he was subjected to more laughter because his tiny
black thong, with a small gold Imperial eagle embroidered on the front, began
to balloon outwards. The Emperor then said to the boy companions “I told you
he was a right whore so we’ll start to train him to be a good one. Which of
you wants to be pleasured by the whore’s orifices?” All seventeen remaining
companions eagerly indicated affirmation, their keenness fuelled by the fact
that it was the Emperor’s former favourite who was receiving his comeuppance.
Diocletian ordered one of them to relieve Anthonius of his thong and everyone
chuckled as the erection popped into view. The Emperor instructed Anthonius to
go to each boy companion’s couch in turn, kneel before it and use particular
turns of phrase.
Anthonius shuffled to the first companion, a 10 years old, knelt and said
“Please sir, I beg that I may offer my unworthy orifices to pleasure your
manhood. Which do you require, sir?” The first indicated mouth so Anthonius
shuffled forward on his knees and waited for the 10 years old to pull down his
loincloth before bending over to take the boy’s soft cock in his mouth. It did
not take long to bring the small penis to climax but there was nothing to
swallow. Before Anthonius stood again, he had to say “Thank you, sir, for
allowing my unworthy mouth to give you pleasure.”
Anthonius repeated the opening words whilst on his knees before the next
companion, who indicated the other orifice. Anthonius therefore stood, turned
round and bent over whilst the 15 years old took up position, lowered his
loincloth and aimed. Anthonius felt the boy grip his thighs to lever his hole
backwards towards the erection. The boy was one of those who preferred to keep
his own cock still whilst the recipient anus moved to provide it with its
pleasure. However, only about twenty vigorous backwards and forwards shoves of
Anthonius’ loins were required for the boy to impregnate the orifice.
It took Anthonius nearly three hours to complete his tasks, by which time his
mouth had serviced ten, and his anus, seven young cocks, aged from 9 to 16.
His own erection had been full and dribbling precum most of this time but he
was provided with no relief. Diocletian instead informed the boy that he had a
present for him in order to assist further his training to be a dutiful whore.
He nodded to one of the companions who approached Anthonius with something in
his hand. It was another shorter catheter but one that was not hollow and had
a small leather strap attachment. The companion gleefully slid the whole stem
into Anthonius’ exposed and drooling slit and fixed it in place by harnessing
three narrow straps intermittently around the hard cock, with the last round
the base of the scrotum. The fitting would remain secure even after the penis
had become soft and would be an effective and uncomfortable chastity device.
Once the cockstrap had been attached, Diocletian declared “Good, that should
help the whore keep in proper shape for further training” before then ordering
the harlot to get out of his sight.
The following day, Casperius came to Anthonius’ tiny quarters and contentedly
looked again at the cruel contraption fastened to the naked boy’s genitals
before reluctantly telling the lad’s eunuch to remove it. The major domo
informed Anthonius that he would be performing at a forthcoming state banquet
and that the young Prince and his friends had agreed to train him for his act
as well as continuing his instruction to be an exemplary whore. The eunuch was
to ready him for their attentions. Two hours later, the boy found himself
engaged in the second most humiliating walk of his whole life, after his
experiences in a certain grubby African market town. The Nubian was escorting
him to the Prince’s quarters, which were some distance away from the boy
harem. Anthonius was still in his chains and so had to shuffle slowly towards
his destination. He had been re-attired in his minuscule thong. The palace was
busy at this time of day and most of the people he passed ogled at the sight
of the pretty almost nude boy walking by. They seemed particularly interested
in the lad’s body decorations and the desperate efforts of his diminutive
thong to contain the clear signs of sexual arousal. The deeply ashamed
Anthonius would have felt relief at eventually reaching the Prince’s luxurious
quarters if he had not encountered anything but pain and humiliation there,
and he did not expect that this visit would be any different.
To Anthonius’ surprise, the escorting Nubian did not leave him in the Prince’s
currently deserted entertainment chamber but led him through to another
smaller room on the far side. Anthonius shivered when he saw what it contained
for, in the middle of the otherwise empty room, the caning-horse awaited him.
The eunuch stripped Anthonius of his thong and laid the now very nervous boy
across the horse and re-chained him in place, before tying a mask blindfold
over his eyes and leaving.
Anthonius had lain across the horse, quivering in fear, for about half an hour
when he heard someone enter. The boy felt a small hand running across his
exposed buttocks and thighs and the Prince say “I do like the eagles that my
friends placed on your buttocks and at their sides, former bed boy. I’m sure
that they’re just as nice elsewhere as well. We’re all now going to give you
more presents to help you develop your whoring skills before we start training
you for your new public entertainment act. My father says that it’s time that
we all enjoyed our first girls and boys and my friends and I were unanimous in
agreeing that we should help your instruction in prostitution by making you
our very first of either. The mask’s because we’re all a bit shy. Don’t mind
you feeling our pricks as we have you but don’t think a trainee strumpet like
you should see them as it might make you too excited. How excited are you now,
former bed boy?” The 11 years old reached underneath to fondle the 14 years
old’s genitals, observing “Already hard I see! My father says that you’re a
natural whore and it is obviously true, so you’ll be looking forward to having
twelve 11 years old boy pricks up your bum over the next few hours, won’t you,
former bed boy, or should I just call you ‘whore’ from now on?”
Anthonius heard the sound of the Prince disrobing, followed by the feel of the
young boy’s hands prising apart his defenceless bumcheeks. “Now whore, make
sure that you don’t spurt any horrible mess or I’ll have to find time to beat
you again” said the 11 years old as he placed his little erection on the 14
years old sphincter and pushed forward. Anthonius’ anal opening granted the
small intruder immediate entrance and the sensation of the small cock inside
caused the recipient’s body to convulse and a pool of white liquid to appear
on the floor below. “Dirty whore” said the Prince as he commenced his thrusts
that would eventually bring him to his own delectable climax, leaving a little
of his own white liquid inside the older boy. The Prince’s friends, excited in
all senses of the word, followed one by one. Some of their subsequent orgasms
left presents inside Anthonius but not all.
When all the 11 years olds had done, the 14 years old was released from the
horse and from his chain bondage by the returning Nubian and taken before the
youngsters, now reclining on their couches in the pleasure chamber. The Prince
ordered Anthonius to turn full circle before them so that they could inspect
again their decorative handiwork, with accompanying gleeful looks and
chortling. The Prince then declared “You’ve been naughty again, whore, putting
your own filthy bodily pleasures before providing proper service to your
betters, and dirtying the floor at the same time. You can clean it up later,
in the usual manner, before I punish you for your disgusting misdemeanour.
First, though, you are required to practise the new act that you will perform
at the state banquet in two days’ time. I am to inform you that you will have
the honour of being the first ever Imperial boy companion to dance completely
unclothed at such an occasion. You know how my father normally requires his
boys to maintain some degree of modesty outside their quarters. Well whore,
His Imperial Majesty has decided to make you an exception. You will also
conclude your act with this.” The Prince gestured to the attendant four
slaves, who left the chamber to return, to giggles from the 11 years olds,
with a heavy low square wooden pallet, each side about two paces long.
Anthonius blanched as they placed it in the middle of the entertainment dais
for at its centre, firmly fixed to the wood, was a phallus made of smooth
black marble. It had a narrow curved top but this gradually expanded to a
width of about half a hand three-quarters of the way along its two hands’
length, before curvaceously contracting again.
The Prince, grinning broadly, continued “You will be required to sodomise
yourself fully on the dildo until you make yourself cum. You must not touch
your penis and your buttocks will be required to hit the wood regularly. You
may start to practise now. I suppose that we may have to wait a while for you
to finish because you’ve already pleasured yourself once but try not to be too
long, even if you are tempted to prolong your enjoyment. We haven’t got all
day and there’s still your punishment to organise.”
(To be continued in Chapter 32 – ‘Dildo’)
* * * |
Brett's Balls | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES, MINOR | A brief tale from the freshman dorm. | “Nice balls,” I commented, eying Brett’s endowments. It was a compliment
rather than a come-on; I’m as straight as an arrow, but Brett’s balls were
good looking.
“Uh, thanks, I guess,” Brett replied, stepping out of the skivvies he’d worn
for the trip down the hall from his dorm room. Four other guys were already in
the commodious shower. The guys turned to see who had entered, and all took an
appreciative look at Brett’s balls before turning towards the walls to ponder
their own inadequacies. They were eighteen or nineteen years old, like
everyone else in the dorm, but there the physical similarities ended. One of
the guys had the hairy back and receding hairline of a much older adult, one
was a beardless boy who looked like he belonged in junior high, and the other
two were just like Brett and I and most of the other kids in the dorm: The
university called us men, but in reality we were just smooth chested, hairy-
legged teenagers.
Policy demanded that guys be covered while in the hallways, but with ten two-
man rooms sharing one shower it was inevitable that you would eventually see
every part of each of the twenty guys on your hall. None the guys in the hall
could be classified as porn star and a few could even qualify for a nickname
like ‘Shorty’ or ‘Stubby’. An adolescent type length contest would have needed
to be settled with a ruler, but Brett had a set of balls that would have won
that type of size contest hands down. His nuts were each the size of a large
hen’s egg, and their obvious weight caused them to sag magnificently low in a
nearly hairless scrotum that swung back and forth when he walked and seemed to
reach halfway to his knees when he bent forward to step into his skivvies.
Despite his obvious endowments Brett was modest and didn’t flaunt his body the
way others, probably myself included, would have. A lot of the guys risked
getting a load of shit from the Resident Advisor by striding around the
hallways bare-ass naked, but Brett always wore a towel and removed it only to
shower, and once he finished drying himself off he would quickly step into his
skivvies or secure the towel back around his waist before continuing with his
other morning bathroom chores.
. I walked in on my roomie on day while he was beating his meat, and after
that we worked out an arrangement that guaranteed each of us a half hour a
week in the dorm room alone to spend as we pleased, and before too long my
sessions included fantasies about what it might feel like to have that much
mass swinging between my legs, how it would be to roll them around in my hand,
and especially how much goop I might be capable of spewing out if only I had a
set as large as Brett’s. I thought about girls that I knew and others that I
like to know, and every thing else a young man thinks about while jacking off,
but more and more often Brett’s massive gonads dominated my thoughts. His
balls didn’t necessarily obsess me, but if you get the idea that I was
impressed by them, you’re right; I was.
I got to know Brett a lot better during Christmas break. Mom had just split up
with my Step-dad No. 3, and her brother, my uncle Walt, had ‘invited” her to
the East coast for the Holiday. An ‘invitation’ from uncle Walt was an offer
you couldn’t, or at least shouldn’t refuse. He wasn’t a Mafia Don or anything,
but he controlled the family purse strings and he bankrolled my education. The
offer didn’t include me, and since Number 3 had kept the house I didn’t have
anywhere to go anyway and decided to hang around school for a couple of weeks.
Home for the 1972 Holidays was Randolph Residence Hall, an ugly five-story
concrete rectangle that was built in the early 1950’s. The first floor
contained the kitchen and dining room, which doubled as a recreation and
commons area. Two central stairways lead to the upper floors, each of which
had four hallways. Each hallway had ten dorm rooms and ended in an
institutional style bathroom with two toilet stalls, three urinals, five
basins, and a large multi-headed shower room. Each dorm room had a set of bunk
beds, two short rods for hanging clothing, two small built-in storage chests,
and two study stations with small desks and unpadded chairs. There was no
running water in the rooms, nor telephone or TV hookups, and only two
electrical outlets per room. The only difference in the rooms was that the
outside rooms had small windows that opened while the interior rooms relied on
an airshaft and noisy exhaust fan for ventilation. At the head of each
stairway on each floor was a larger room for each of the floor’s two Resident
Advisors, who were entitled to a private room with a bath.
Policy dictated that all unmarried freshmen under twenty-one live in the
dorms, and freshman tuition included room and board. None of the dorms were
co-ed and the opposite sex was prohibited from being anywhere but on the first
floor. There were separate dorms for the upperclassmen, but most guys hated
the arrangement and got off-campus apartments as soon as they could.
It was okay for the first few days; I could sleep in late, masturbate freely
without regard to a roommate, and spend some time alone in the shower
leisurely scrubbing the crack in my ass and washing my cock; things you just
don’t do in the company of a half dozen or more other guys. I even soaped up
my cock and jacked off in the shower one morning.
Brett was in the same boat for some reason or another. We were the only two
guys on the hall that were stuck there for the Holidays, but there were some
guys from the other floors and halls of the dorm too, so the dozen of us
refugees usually hung around the rec room and watched TV or shot pool or
played cards. We should have been studying, of course, but what the Hell, it
was Christmas. All but one of the Resident Advisors was gone for the Holidays
and the one that remained, a dweeby senior who kept tabs on the herd in
exchange for free room and board, was off to a party somewhere, so things
loosened up a little. You could smoke-tobacco-in the rooms and common area
back then, but alcohol was totally banned, so four of us managed to finagle a
big bottle of vodka and some orange juice and smuggle it up to my room for a
little poker party.
We pulled one of the desks next to bed to use for a card table, I put my
favorite Cat Stevens tape on the eight-track player, cranked the volume up to
a normally unacceptable level, and before long we were all a little loose.
“What’s this I hear about some guy up here having monster balls?” Jason, who
lived on the second floor, asked.
“Uh, that would be him, right before your eyes,” I said somewhat drunkenly,
pointing to Brett.
“How big are they, anyway?” Jason was also pretty well shit-faced. Brett acted
embarrassed and refused to answer, but that didn’t stop me.
“Huge,” I answered, cupping my hands as if I were holding two large
grapefruit.
“No fucking way!” Jason countered. “Come on Brett, drop your pants and give
Todd and I a look.”
“Fuck you,” Brett replied, still embarrassed. Like I said, he wasn’t an
exhibitionist.
“Tell you what,” Jason took another sip from the Dixie cup full of potent
booze, then set the cup down and shuffled the deck of cards. “One cut of the
deck, high card wins. I win, you show me your balls.”
“Bullshit,” Brett replied, “What happens if I win?”
“Then you get to see my balls.”
“I really don’t even want to see your face,” Brett countered, taking another
belt from his own Dixie cup.
By ten we were all totally fucked up, and Brett finally stepped out of his
jeans and pulled down his skivvies, baring his endowments for all to see. Even
though it was winter the dorm was incredibly hot, and his huge balls hung low.
“Holy shit!” Jason said reverently. “I never would have believed it, balls
like that on a scrawny turd like you.” He was right; Brett wasn’t much to look
at. He was only about five six and pretty skinny also.
“Hey, you guys!” One of Jason’s buds came running up the stairs. “A guy I know
from Crawford just called and said that the R.A. just left there and is
heading this way. You guys better get this shit…” He broke off the warning as
soon as he caught sight of Brett’s crotch and just stood there open mouthed.
Jason and Todd grabbed the booze and split. Brett stood there swaying for a
few seconds, and then said, “I gotta lay down for a minute,” then flopped out
on the lower bunk with his skivvies still down around his knees. I ran down
the hall and made sure the door to Brett’s room was locked, then locked my
door and crashed on the upper bunk.
I woke up about two in the morning needing very badly to piss. I turned on my
reading light and swung down out of the bunk. Brett was lying on his side,
facing the wall, and his skivvies were still down around his knees, his
hairless white untanned ass practically glowing in the dimness of the room. By
the time I returned from the toilet he had rolled over and was facing the
center of the room. He was snoring noisily, still dead to the world, and his
magnificent balls were sprawled out on the bed sheet, so I did what any normal
straight guy would do and reached out and cupped his nuts in my hand. They
completely filled my hand and I gave them a gentle squeeze but Brett didn’t
even stir. Suddenly disgusted with myself, I climbed back onto my bunk, then
grabbed my own balls. Absolutely no comparison. My cock started getting hard
and I considered jacking off but went back to sleep before getting around to
doing it.
I woke up again about seven with a bitch of a headache. I took a piss and
plugged in the little bootleg coffeemaker that I wasn’t supposed to have in
the room. I popped a couple of aspirin and sat at the small desk and sipped my
coffee and waited for them to kick in and stared at Brett’s naked crotch. He
was sporting morning wood, and although his hard cock was about the same size
as mine, his huge balls made it look proportionately small. I turned away as
soon as he started stirring, and as soon as he realized where he was he rolled
over to face the wall and then pulled his skivvies back up before swinging out
of the bunk.
“Jesus,” he said, “what a night,” then headed to the bathroom. He came back a
few minutes later, bummed a couple of aspirin and a cup of coffee, and sat
down at the other table, still wearing just his skivvies and tee shirt. He
looked a little embarrassed, then finally said, “They’re not real, you know.”
“Huh?” I said, nut sure what I’d just heard.
“My balls. They aren’t real. They’re silicone.”
“Uh.” I was really very articulate back then.
“I wrecked my bike when I was fourteen and they got caught in the front rack
and got messed up. They were still there but all torn up and the doctors had
to cut them out. My dad and my brother are both really big men, so the doctors
figured I be the same size and put in fake balls that they though would be the
right size. I turned out small, but my bag stretched to accommodate them, and
since they don’t have cords or anything they hang loose all of the time.”
“You don’t look like a, ah, you know. I mean, you have a beard and seem to be
all there otherwise,” I said, unwilling to tell him that I’d just seen him
with a boner.
“I have to take shots every few weeks,” Brett explained. “I can do everything,
but I’ll always be shooting blanks.”
Brett gathered up his clothes and left to hit the shower and then crash in his
own bed for a while. I got back into my own bunk and dozed most of the
morning, waking up a couple of times only long enough to jack off.
Author’s note: This is a work of fiction, but the description of the dorm and
life in it as it was in 1972 is totally accurate.
* * * |
Thecia's Slave Sale | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES | Fiction and not for minors. Thecia nuts a new slave. | Theciaĺs Slave Sale.
My name is Thecia and Iĺm a 31 year old cutter.
I recently had a thing come together that I will chronicle here.
I had just arrived from Mexico where I castrated a rapist for a Mexican police
chief. He fought, but in the end his big nuts were on the concrete floor.
I have a client/friend who is a mistress. Her name is Linda and she ôownsö
three male slaves. I de-balled two of them for her. A slight male named ôBoyö
and a heavier one named ôThing.ö The third is an intact male named ôGriffon.ö
Linda uses griffon to satisfy the needs of her friend Tracy and her own. She
also has a fuck buddy and griffon is required to tongue clean up after their
sex.
She came to me with a question, she wanted to know where she could get another
nutted slave or a talented one to replace Griffon and I would then de-ball
Griffon.
The following day, I was approached through Digger by a young man named Bobby,
who had a fantasy about being a slave. He wanted to be ôownedö by a strong
woman, but left intact and allowed to leave whenever he was tired of the life.
I explained to him that slaves usually donĺt get to have rules. I also told
him that I would see what I could do.
As fate would have it, Mistress Helga, was going to have her annual slave
auction the following Saturday evening. Once a year there is a gathering of
domes , most can afford a slave and want to own one. Many sell one or more of
their slaves and often buy new ones, there is some trading going on too. Itĺs
a gala event with a good dinner and some fun too.
I told Linda about Bobby and said that the fix was in. I would sell him and
Linda would buy him.
We arrived early, the place was buzzing. I had Bobby in tow, held by a strong
ball leash.
The dinner was wonderful, Mistress Helga had roasted several pigs along with a
few huge beef roasts and a supurb lobster dish.
Afterward each slave was brought up to the selling platform. Each was
displayed, their garments were removed to show their equipment or lack
thereof. A nutted slave was sometimes worth more than an intact one, although
one with a big package might also find himself in demand.
The first two were muscled and freshly nutted (I can tell they were cut
recently, Iĺm a cutter.) They brought over two thousand bucks each. The third
was a ôChip and Daleö type, adorned with an eight inch dick and balls as big
as oranges. He brought thirty two hundred.
By the time it was Bobbyĺs turn ten slaves had been sold. I led Bobby up to
the platform with his ball leash. His balls were not as impressive as the Chip
and Dale guy, but still they were nice, his dick was maybe seven inches and
rather thick. For some reason the intact men were always as hard as a rock
when on display.
The bidding was fast, most of the women there were in on the fix, but not all.
One petite blonde was very interested, she mumbled something about wearing out
his erection. . She offered two thousand as the first bid. Linda just bid up
at the minimum twenty five dollar increments. At thirty one hundred the blonde
dropped out, one older woman bid thirty three hundred, but the bid went to
Linda at thirty three twenty five.
When Linda led him away, he acted as though she should smile and greet him,
instead she jerked him off of his feet with the leash, the pull was so hard I
thought his nuts were going to rip off right then and there.
The following week I took the time to visit Linda. Griffon answered the door
and showed me in. As I walked away, I could feel his eyes on my butt. I could
tell that he wasnĺt nutted. One day I would slice his balls off, I knew it and
he knew it.
When I came up to Bobby he greeted me as though it was before the sale, Linda
kicked him hard in the balls, ôYou speak when spoken to!ö He fell to the
ground holding his gonads.
He stopped sobbing and I asked him how he liked slave life. He told me that it
was as expected and he hoped he could last a while. I said, ôOh, you will, you
will.ö
Linda had him sit on the dog beds with the other three slaves. Griffon now had
his toga removed and I could see why she kept his balls, he had a huge
package.
Linda sat in her private living room and we discussed the slaves. She said
that she was planning to have Griffon cut and use the new one for pleasure,
but he was becoming a pain in the butt. I nodded in understanding. I asked her
if she had used him yet, she said that she and Tracy had both had him service
them, and that while he was very good he wasnĺt up to Griffonĺs talent.
We walked back into the room and without comment she picked up Bobby leash and
jerked him to his feet. He screamed in pain but followed sheepishly.
We led him to the second bedroom and strapped him to the bed. Only when I
picked up my bag did his look of fantasy turn to a look of fear.
I carefully removed his ball leash and told him that he wouldnĺt be needing it
anymore. At this point he still believed it was part of the fantasy, there was
a little doubt in his eyes but not much.
The look changed again when the scalpel came out of the bag. He began to
plead, ôNo, no, please, thatĺs not part of the deal. Not my balls, please, not
my balls.ö
Linda and I both laughed and I told him, ôthere is no deal, slaves donĺt have
deals.ö
As I brought the blade to bear, he began to scream. Linda squeezed his balls
and told him to shut up. The more he screamed the more she squeezed, until he
fell back sobbing. She forced a ball gag in his mouth and duct taped it in
place.
Iĺm usually in a happy mood when Iĺm lopping a nice set of balls off, but this
time I felt a tinge of remorse. The poor guy had tears in his eyes as I sliced
open his nutsack. I popped the first nut out of its little home, tied off the
cords and snipped it. He was sobbing through his gag now, I still felt bad,
but I harvested the second ball in the same way. I picked his now severed baby
makers up by their cords and held them up for him to see. I told him that a
nutted slave was actually worth more than an intact one. That statement didnĺt
seem to cheer him up much. He would spend a lot of time between Lindaĺs legs
with his tongue deep in her and around her clit.
His big nuts went into a peanut butter jar full of formaldehyde to be
displayed on her mantle along with those of Thing and Boy.
On the way home I stopped at Marioĺs and had two slices of sausage and onion
pizza along with a coke. Nutting, for some reason, always makes me hungry.
Respectfully Submitted,
Thecia
* * * |
Castration in Hibernation | TESTICLES, Surprisingly Fine Dining | ***** | ` `
It was fags versus pigs as the limp wrist met the long arm of the law.
The bears were tweaking the bare-ass tweeks.
They were bruising while they were cruising.
John LaBatt apparently wasn't into twat. His beer company was the main sponsor
of the gay pride parade down Yonge Street, Toronto, said to be the longest
street in the world.
The vote was still out on the average length of bear and tweek.
Some said the average hairy monster had less-than-average and often-grissly
gonads. Some said the average tweek was never meek in manhood, the sleek
physique being the antithesis of his penis perfectus.
But why fight about dick size?
What was the reason for this Great Canadian Cock Fight?
In a shell of nuts, the reason is that there are some great Canadian cocks
worth fighting over and onto. Usually this country goes out of its way to be
neutral, but when it comes to dick, they get down and dirty.
Angered in the extreme, they can even go from neutral to neutered.
It all came to a head at Remington's.
Steel-eyed, the bartender topped off the ice-cold LaBatt on tap, but
straightening the frosted mug for the last splash near the brim to give a good
head. For $200 Canadian you can give one of the big-cocked lap dancers some
good head.
But don't tell the steel-eyed bartender.
Or the cops.
If you want to see naked bears, don't go to Remington's. Go to Naked Night at
one of the bear-on-the-menu bars.
Remington's and their customers don't go for the full-body fur-rug look.
The delightful dancers are not all tweeks, but they are always damn sleek. I
can hardly speak.
Naomi went to high school with Donna and Stephany in Scarborough. When they
were in high school, they had cocks. Now they have graduated to tits, but they
still have those nice cocks.
The four of us were in the upstairs bar at Remington's. As Mr. LaBatt's brew
put us at ease, we had an easy view up the ass of each dancer prancing on
stage.
"Nice cock and balls, but he didn't get all the hair off his left ass cheek."
It was fun to critique.
They were professional. They could take it.
And damn, they could give it too. Those back room lap dances at $20 Canadian
got your finger up inside the same view you had earlier while you were just
pointing your finger.
But John LaBatt gave too much.
The proud bears drank too much. And after unshowering for the first four days
of pride week, they stank too much.
Those Canadian cops really know how to royally mount. They always get their
men.
They herded those stinking bears into one of the home-away-from-home homo
spas.
Everyone into the pool.
But then that glorious, invigorating pool had a floating scum of cum. Bear
cum, mixed with bear grease and oil.
Pride week was spoiled.
While the pool was drained and prepped for steam cleaning, the pooped bears
finally needed to hibernate. By police order, the spa rented them rooms at $8
Canadian.
And while they slept it off, the outraged manager decided to take compensation
for his loss. He would take it right off the top by playing his cards off the
bottom.
As the awakened bears kick-started their Harleys, because they had been kicked
out of town, they noticed that the seats were a lot more comfortable.
Had the June sun heat-molded the leather to a perfect fit?
Does a bear shit in the woods?
No, it was John LaBatt's cousin, the spa manager. (Both cousins used to have
their shit packed in the woods).
Christopher LaBatt Pope was proud of his spa. Every non-bear gay place is a
model of cleanliness.
Mr. Pope crept while they slept. The bears thought they were in a sylvan
siesta, a nap in the woods. The scalpel fell, and they didn't hear it.
They didn't even feel it. John LaBatt's brew has that anaesthesizing effect.
And the bear balls were not all that bad.
Now they had to be marinated for like a week in WD-40 to de-grease the damn
things, but once prepped at The Keg near Cartlon at College, they were quite
delightful.
With a lot of Merlot, down they go.
And what bear will ever miss his balls? Hell, they're so damn fat they haven't
even been able to see them for the last 20 years.
Classy Bitch runs from bears. She lives in fear, but a fear that is a might
erotic, that someday a bear will be able to read. He might find this and her
other stories on eunuch.org -- but the Classy Bitch would snarl and bark, and
chase him up a tree. A Maple tree.
* * * |
Entrapment - Part 1: Rage & Preparation | GAY, TESTICLES | The cops start entrapping men in a local park. Our hero gathers a group together to take revenge. My first submission after reading others\' stories for some time. Feedback welcome. | ENTRAPMENT
Part I: Rage & Preparation
Like a lot of gay young men, and a lot of older ones for that matter, I like
to play the field. Dating a lot of different guys. Some become friends and we
do social stuff together. Some become fuck buddies and it’s just one or the
other most of the time. Some become both; you’re not really lovers, but you’re
more than friends.
Bath houses, video arcades, sex clubs, and parks and the woods. Yeah, I guess
you could literally say that I liked to play the field, literally! I love what
they call “public venues.” At least the way I describe it. The baths, arcades,
and sex clubs are all private places. Parks and wooded areas I choose
carefully.
You might say I’m an exhibitionish, but I’m a selective exhibitionist. I just
enjoy an appreciative audience. I don’t want to be seen by anyone who doesn’t
want to watch. No women, no kids. No up tight straight guys. No, when I go to
the parks or the woods its to the areas that only attract guys that are
looking for sex with other guys, and occasionally the police. The cops, pigs,
shit eating shit head pigs. Not all of them. Specifically the ones who are too
cowardly, too lazy, and too inept to go out and solve real crimes. They have
no business in these areas unless there’s some queer bashings going on. And
then they should be in uniform and should ignore any consensual sex they
happen to encounter.
Shit, I’ve met gay cops in a number of different places. A few were dick heads
and given the chance to get away with it I’d cut their balls off in a New York
minute. Even the ones working vice told me that they would only arrest people
who were working the streets, especially in residential neighborhoods. They
catch two people, two guys, two girls, a guy and a girl, going at it in the
back seat of a car and they’d just embarrass the heck out of them, give them a
verbal warning and tell them to go get a room.
One cop said he had a sense of humor about it. Kinda warped, but still funny.
One night he drives through the parking lot of a very fundamentalist right
wing church and in the very back, under a tree, away from the security light
is a dark colored car in the corner. Now it’s not unusual for two people to
meet somewhere, leave one car and go somewhere together in the other. But
somehow he got some vibes to check it out. So, he parks at the other end,
quietly gets out of his car and slowly walks over.
And there he finds two sixteen year old boys in the back seat buck naked
fucking like rabbits. He said he would have been happy to just watch, but the
windows were slightly tinted and even though the security light was at the
other end of the lot, there was still some glare on the window.
So, he takes his flashlight and taps on the window pretty hard. The two boys
practically levitated in fear. They started rummaging around for their pants.
“Just open the windows and leave your clothes alone and there won’t be any
trouble.”
One of the boys opened the window.
“Having fun, boys?” the cop asked.
“Uh, no sir,” one of the kids stammered.
“No?” the officer replied. “If you’re not having fun that means that one of
you must be forcing the other and I’m going to have to arrest someone. And
maybe send one to the hospital for a rape test. So, just what is going on?”
“Well, I guess we were having fun, while we were alone.”
“I see. How do you feel about being watched by a cop if it means we all leave
here like nothing ever happened?”
“Uh, I dunno. Okay, I guess,” they answered.
The officer checked their ID’s. “Well, look boys, here’s the way it’s gonna
work. You’re both sixteen, which is legal in this state, and personally, I
consider this a private act, which means it’s not illegal. But most other cops
and the people who own this church would not look at it that way. So, you’re
free to go. Next time do it at home when your parents are out or spring for a
cheap motel room down on Broad Street.
“But, if you’re interested in putting on a little show and making a dull
evening fun for a cop who sympathizes with your situation, just put on your
shoes and step behind the big dumpster over there and let me watch while you
finish what you were doing.”
One of the boys slowly grinned at the cop and then looked at his friend.
“Well, if we ever have gay grandkids this will be some story to tell them!”
They both giggled, hurriedly put on their shoes and stepped behind the
dumpster where the cop used his powerful flashlight to spotlight the show.
They both got hard and one began fucking the other one while his friend jacked
off. After a few minutes the top pumped his load into his friend and left his
dick inside him while he jerked off.
The cop gave the boys some cash and said, “Like I said, next time get a room.”
“Yes, sir!”
“And I’m not the only cop who patrols this area, so don’t get any ideas about
coming back here for your fun and games.”
But like I said, there were also the shit head cops. And they were starting to
raid the wooded area of a local park late at night. Easy pickings and not
anyone there to be “offended” except the cops themselves. I started hearing
about it right away because I was volunteering at a local gay hot line. And
soon the gay press picked it up. Fortunately, I lived in a large city and the
local paper didn’t always bother with such stories anymore, thanks to pressure
from the gay community and smaller papers. And now if they did cover the
stories they did not print any names.
One weekly radical paper did print names, however. The names of the cops. They
also sent reporters to the courthouse to identify them and then took pictures
of them later when they left, using telephoto lenses while sitting in a van.
Wisely, they did not publish the pictures in the papers. But social networking
soon had people all over town talking about the anonymous web sites that had
the pictures and info about the cops. And soon people all over the country
were logging on. And as soon as one site got shut down another would go up.
Actually, several sites were set up at once. As one got shut down, then
another one would be publicized.
Things got worse in the park. And they started making walkthroughs of the
arcades.
Officer Greane was the ring leader of the cops. Officers, Graye and White were
his main cohorts. There were others, but from the reports I got they were
reluctant helpers that Greane coerced.
But one entrapment was one too many. Like I said before, the only guys there
in the woods at night were guys looking for sex. But the STD vaccines had all
been approved and were available to everyone, so the old public health thing
was a dead issue. Sure there were still the public health warnings that there
were probably other sexually transmitted diseases like AIDS that had not been
transmitted to people yet, but while it was logical, there was no evidence of
anything being on the horizon, so few people were concerned enough to take any
precautions.
Besides, gay marriage was now legal in twenty states and it was only a matter
of time till the so-called Defense of Marriage Act was going to be repealed.
And while two gay guys getting married does not necessarily mean total
monogamy studies show they cut down a lot on the number of other guys they
have sex with. And if they have kids it drops a lot more.
But enough of that. I wasn’t ready for that stage of life yet. Back to the
immediate problem.
I frequented a lot of the local gay bars, as well as the above mentioned
venues. My favorite was the Eagle’s Nest Saloon. While not a body builder, I
worked out regularly and was pretty buff. What made me stand out was my total
lack of tattoos, piercings, and body hair. The first two were easy. I just
hand not had any done. The last was pretty easy, too. I had an informal group
of friends and fuck buddies that got together every two or three weeks to wax
each other’s bodies. It was whatever you wanted. No rules about what you had
to have done to be part of the group. It was just that if you wanted to have
it done you had to learn how to do it and help do the other guys. Some guys
had hairy chests and hairy backs and just wanted their backs done, and maybe
their chest hair trimmed with clippers. Me, I was clean shaven and got myself
waxed down to the top of my thighs. For some guys it was the entire body, ass
crack included. I like eating ass. I love eating ass, among other things. But
I want it clean and hairless, but I digress again.
Closing time in our city was 2:00am. No exceptions. Last call was at 1:30at
the Nest, as most people called it. Most bars it was at 1:45, but at the Nest,
you had to be out the door by 2:00 sharp. At that point the crew went through
picking up all the glasses, beer bottles and trash and cleaning the place out
and making sure everyone had left. Then they closed and locked the accordion
gates around all the bars and opened the gate that had surrounded the soft
drink bar. And the kitchen was already gearing up. Nothing fancy, just
burgers, wings, fries, etc.
Now the Nest became a private, members only club and people were admitted a
few at a time through three different doors at the back. So, with no booze and
no fancy food being served, what was the draw? Sex. Lots of sex. About the
only rule was that you had to wear clothes and thoroughly wash your hands
before entering the food and soft drink area. The place was always crowded,
but with the volume of guys there they could keep the cover charge pretty low
and still make a lot of money.
And with it being a private club the cops would have to have a warrant to
enter. The health department was not a problem. The kitchen and eating area
always surpassed the requirements and they always got an A+ when inspected.
But, if by chance the lights quickly went from dim to bright you knew to get
dressed and stop having sex.
Okay, I digress yet again.
The Nest was the perfect place to find guys who wanted to do something about
Officer Greane and his friends. It would take a while. Fantasy cop killing is
one thing. Really doing it is something else.
Besides, I had no intention of killing anyone. Not something I would even joke
about. I think it’s wrong. Now killing part of someone, well, that’s something
I might consider. And the Nest was the perfect place to start finding people.
The thing about the Nest was that while it was a leather, S&M;, B&D; bar,
everyone was welcome during business hours. Women would come in with gay
friends. Even venturesome straight couples would come in. Drag queens would
drop by after their acts were over.
But at 2:00am for the private membership club it was guys only in guy attire.
Leather, jeans, hell even executives in slacks and button down shirts who had
worked late were okay.
So, I began to talk to guys who seemed reliable, steady, and sane about how
something needed to be done about these crazy cops who were setting out to
ruin the lives of guys who were just out for a little fun. And I would
overhear guys talking about it and edge my way into the conversation.
There was also a small subset of guys who hung out at the Nest. It was the
castration group. There was just a handful of guys who were actually castrated
that I knew of. They would run around naked after hours looking to service hot
guys while others watched. Most of them had had it done pretty young and
looked a lot younger than they were. A couple looked like fourteen, but while
the drinking age was still 21, it being a non-alcohol private after hours club
you only had to be eighteen.
Some guys got queasy around the eunuchs, but usually got used to it. And if
you had any pederastic leanings it was hog heaven if you could get one
interested in you.
And there were the eunuch wannabes. They ranged from the voyeurs who would
only watch, or watch and jerk off, to those who would slip a eunuch some money
to let him engage in some body worship. Some of the eunuchs were not taking
hormones, or just enough to maintain proper bone density, etc. Others were
obviously on full hormone replacement. It didn’t matter. Everybody could find
someone to hook up with. And not a few couples met there.
So, it was not uncommon for someone to say something like, “Someone ought to
catch those cops and castrate them.” And I would slowly and quietly begin to
find out just how serious they were and how far they were personally willing
to go to get it done.
The arrests slowed down, but that only meant that you never knew when they
might be in the park. But I got my crew, and supplies assembled.
All black clothing. Ninja masks, black ski masks, ropes, nets, restraints,
tasers, catheters, elastic bands, banding device, and a few other odds and
ends. Oh yes, and a warehouse. A large warehouse. Complete with cells, and an
operating room. Some of the equipment was used. But still quite serviceable by
all contemporary medical standards. Not to mention the cell phones (all
throwaways), and all the computer equipment. It was hard to imagine how a room
full of computers and servers had now been compacted into something about the
size of a filing cabinet or two.
And, we had backers. Financial backers. Some knew each other. Some remained
anonymous. But all expected a return on their investments — either money or,
well how shall I put it? Satisfaction. More about the return on the investment
later.
There was a full moon that night. But it was cloudy, too. Completely overcast.
You might think that would make it darker, but it actually helped. The clouds
reflected a lot of the ambient light from the city so even late into the night
visibility was high.
We had interviewed enough victims to know where Greane and his cohorts liked
to make most of their entrapments and were set up. They would pretend to be
groping each other’s crotches and when a third person approached one would nod
to him and when he came over and reached for a crotch they would arrest him.
Instead of them being the bait for an arrest one of our guys was going to be
the bait for their capture.
However, another guy came into the picture and fell for their trick before we
could do anything. No matter. As soon as Greane pulled out his badge we
dropped the net and all three of them fell to the ground. We sprang into
action and tazered the two cops, pulled the net off and told the they were
about to arrest not to be afraid. Just get the hell out of the woods and not
tell anyone he had been there or what had happened. Fortunately, we had gotten
the two pigs before they had arrested him or looked at his ID. And even though
the light was excellent that night there was no way they could pick him out of
a lineup.
We quickly had the two pigs bound and on two poles, two guys on each end of
each pole carrying them out of the woods like hunters might carry out a deer
or moose they had killed in the wild. Two bad we couldn’t strap them naked
over the hood of a pickup and drive around town!
We had their badges, guns, handcuffs, and radios, too. Two pigs down and one
to go. The third guy drove the unmarked car they drove. He always stayed in
the car. The question was whether to get him, too, or be satisfied with the
main offenders. But on the other hand he was as much a part of the operation
as the others.
We were on our way back to the van when one of the pig’s radios clicked. No
voice. Just some clicking and then silence.
Our captives were regaining consciousness and were having muscle spasms as we
carried them up the trail. Their mouths were taped shut.
“Put them down for a minute,” I said.
I lowered the mic for my voice modulator. We all had them and they were all
set to sound alike — electronic. And we had practiced in clipped phrases.
I pulled the tape off one cop’s mouth. “What does that mean?”
“What does what mean?” he said.
“Don’t play games with me, shithead We’ve got your guns, cuffs, radios, and
badges. What does the clicking on your radio mean?”
“Fuck you, faggot.”
“Wrong answer, pig.” I turned to a couple of guys on my team. Mics down and
on. Undo his legs, then spread ‘em and hold ‘em apart.”
“You’re not going to castrate him here are you?” one of my team asked.
“It’s tempting, but I’ll go for the delayed gratification. Of course if he
doesn’t he’s going to wish I had castrated him.”
With that I stepped between his spread legs and kicked him in the crotch. The
pig moaned involuntarily.
“Now that’s just a taste of what’s to come if don’t do as instructed? Now tell
me what does the clicking on the radio mean?”
“Go to hell, pervert!”
“Okay,” I said, “position the other guy the same way.” Then I kicked Greane’s
partner in the crotch, too, but harder. Then I stepped back and gave Greane
another good one.
They were wearing sweats. We pulled their sweat pants down to their ankles and
I pulled out my knife and cut their underwear off.
“Okay, look, we don’t have all night. Well, actually, we do have all night,
just not here. So, here’s your choice. I can kick and stomp your balls till
they are turned to mush, or I can just cut them off and leave you here to
bleed to death, or you can make it easy on the both of you and simply answer
my questions. What does the clicking on the radio mean?”
He didn’t say anything. I leaned over and gathered up his big balls in my hand
and twisted them half a turn. Then a full turn. They hung low enough even with
having been kicked that I wasn’t causing any pain. And at that point It was
fine if I wasn’t.
“Nice,” I said. “Very nice. Some of the biggest ones I’ve ever seen. They
would look great in a jar of preservative. I bet they would taste pretty good,
too. Slowly grilled, then sliced and served with a dash of barbeque sauce.
“So, what’s it gonna be. We make mush out of your balls, yours and your
buddy’s here, we castrate you, or you answer our questions?”
The other cop starting trying to talk. I ripped the tape off his mouth.
“Tell him or I will. I’m not giving up my balls!
“The third officer, the one in the car we use, clicks the radio on and off a
few times when he wants us to call in. If we don’t he assumes that we are
about to make an arrest.”
“You tell him your partner twisted his ankle and you need his help. Your car,
a white Buick, backed into an old driveway, is being watched. So, don’t say
any code words to him or he’ll be in the same situation you are.”
I took the radio and clicked it on and held it to his mouth.
“White, Tommy twisted his ankle and fell. Come help me get him back to the
car.”
“We need an ambulance?”
“No, he needs an x-ray. But we can drive him. Don’t want any official vehicles
down here to jeopardize future operations. Just meet us at the main path and
help us back to the car.”
“Okay, I’m on my way.”
We were about half way back to the van. We retaped the pigs’ mouths. I sent
one of the team back with the tazer. He put on a hoodie and sunglasses. Then I
got on our radio.
“Sixteen, once the cop is five minutes away from the car, set the explosives.”
“Copy that.”
We continued with our captives and were just below the parking lot where the
van was positioned, backed up to the one of the smaller, narrower places where
the trail started. Then my radio came on.
“One, this is Two. I’ve got a situation here.”
“Fill me in, quick version.”
“I tazered the pig, cuffed and gagged him.”
“So, what’s the problem?”
“Not exactly a problem. But he isn’t any ordinary cop. He spends a lot of time
at the Nest. Including time after hours. He’s got a thing for the nutless
boys. I’ve seen him jerking off while he paws them.”
“Can you get him off the trail?”
“Not by myself. This cop is one big pig. About six feet tall and at least a
hundred pounds overweight.”
“Does he have his badge, other ID or gun on him?”
After a pause, “Affirmative on all three.”
“I’m sending two agents. Keep your face covered, except for your eyes. If
anyone comes along flash his badge and tell them to get the hell out unless
they want to get caught up in major drug bust.”
“Affirmative.”
“I need two volunteers who want to band a big fat closeted pig who spends time
at the Nest.”
Everyone volunteered. I chose two young eunuchs. One was a eunuch by choice.
The other had been born with undeveloped, undescended testicles that had to be
removed shortly after he was born because there was a high risk of his
developing cancer.
“Get him off the trail. Cut his pants off. Put three of the tightest bands
around his nuts, tazer his cock, cover him with leaves, put some rocks or a
small log on the trail near where he is and spray paint is orange.”
They took off with their supplies. A couple of us went up to the top. There
were two cars at the end of the parking lot.
I walked around the edge of the lot next to the trees and crept up to the car.
At first it looked empty. Both front seats were reclined. The guy in the
passenger seat was giving the driver a blow job. I rapped on the window and
flashed one of the badges we had confiscated.
The driver opened his window.
“No problem, boys. Go ahead and finish what you were doing. Go ahead, suck him
off. I want to see cum running down your chin. Do it!”
Lot’s of things can make your dick hard. Usually you think of sex with someone
you find attractive, or a pill, or porn. But fear can make it hard even though
you usually think of it making you lose a hard on. They both got hard and they
both got blow jobs.
“Good job, boys! Now, three things. One, as you will probably find out in a
day or two, I’m not a cop. Two, you are not going to want anyone to know that
you were here tonight. So, each of you take a vow of silence about being here.
And three, this area will probably be crawling with cops before long. So, get
out of here without drawing any attention to yourselves. Bye, bye!”
The guy on the passenger side got out and walked quickly to his car. Both
slowly drove out of the parking lot and down the street.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, or should I say, back at the raunch, my two boy
agents were meeting up with my number two agent with the pig closet fag cop.
Since all our voices were modulated to the same electronic sound I couldn’t
always tell who was saying what, but that was part of the plan. It was highly
implausible that anyone was monitoring our conversations since they were over
modified cell phones using a scrambled signal.
“Has anyone come by?”
“No, fortunately we’ve been alone. So, no complications.”
“Have you been able to spot a good spot to put him when we have him fixed?”
“Yeah, it looks like there’s a small trail right over there into those vines.
We can cover it up with some branches. When we’re ready we can call in his
location on his own radio.”
“Okay, piggy, this is what is going to happen. We’re going to castrate you.
Ever thought about becoming a eunuch? Actually, we’re not going to cut your
balls off. But, if you’re going to continue living you’re going to want the
doctors to do it. Shouldn’t be too much of a change. You’re so fat you already
have tits.”
“Let’s take a good look at you. Don’t worry. I’m just going to use this knife
to cut your clothes off.”
(electronic sounding laughter)
“Not much there.”
“Give the boy the benefit of the doubt. He’s scared. It’s like when you’ve
been in cold water.”
“Well anyway, he doesn’t have much to worry about losing, any way you look at
it.”
“Well, we need to get going. Who gets to do the honors? Rock, paper,
scissors?”
“Sure. Okay, One, two, three…”
“Wow! Not only did I get to carry the elastrator down here, I get to use it!
You guys hold his legs apart.
“Okay, piggy, I know you’re going to want to fight and squirm. But you’d
better be still cause if this thing slips you could lose your dick, too.
Because if it slips we’re not cutting the band off and starting over.”
“Got anything you want to say before you your balls start dying?”
(Sound of tape being ripped off flesh.)
“Please don’t do this to me. I’ll do anything you want. I’ll give you anything
I’ve got. Please!”
“How about you let us fuck your wife?”
“Uh, I don’t know if she would agree to it. But maybe, to save me.”
“So, you are married? How about you suck us off?”
“Okay, yes, if you promise not to hurt me.”
“And you have to agree to quit entrapping guys in the woods. And testify
against the cops you help do it.”
“Okay, just let me go.”
“You ever sucked a guy’s dick before? Ever jerked off while you licked a guy’s
ass? Remember, we have your complete ID and sooner or later we’ll find out the
truth.”
“Okay, yeah, I’ve messed around with guys some.”
“When was the last time?”
“Buddy, you aren’t in any position to have a bad memory. Last week? Last
month? Last year?”
“Yeah.”
“’Yeah’? What the fuck does that mean? Answer the question.”
“I do it every once in a while. About once a month. Last time was last week.
“Hold him down, guys. I think he’s telling the truth about sex with guys. But
He’s a liar about getting out of the entrapment business.”
“Better tape his mouth back shut.”
One of the eunuchs put the first band on the elastrator, slipped the cop’s
balls through and released the band. His muffled screams could be heard in
spite of the tape over his mouth.
“Hey, there’s three bands and three of us. Why don’t we each do one! Who wants
to be second? Just pull his balls down low and put the band up high next to
the first one.”
Teamwork. Sharing. Am I a great leader or what? I love my boys.
All three bands were in place and just before they started to cover him with
leaves one of the team pulled out his cock and started pissing on the fat pig.
The other two immediately joined in. Then he was tazered again at the base of
his cock. The boys watched him flop around. When he settled down again they
got ready to leave. Except for his face, they covered him with leaves and
twigs. Then they pulled vines over the entrance to the offshoot to the small
trail. Three stones were stacked in the middle of the trail and spray painted
bright orange.
The trio quickly headed back to the trailhead to rejoin the others who had
packed the two captive pigs into the back of their van, the parking lot now
otherwise empty.
* * * |
The Traitor's Son 38-39 | 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
Chapters 38 - 39
Chapter 38
The sleeping potion did not dare to be too strong or a barely awake boy might
be presented at market for auction. Consequently, Marius stirred at breaking
daylight, knowing the time despite the lack of natural illumination from the
dawn chorus of birds, which was loud despite the urban setting in Rome.
Marius had slept well and been reasonably rested. Having also eaten well on
the previous evening, the boy now really only needed to be washed and groomed
to be ready for market.
Marius sat up on his straw mattress and the chain about his ankle rattled as
he did so. He resumed his sitting position and listened for the noises of the
similarly awakening household in the distance.
As Marius listened, he felt some discomfort in his groin and glanced down to
attempt to ascertain the cause, which he discovered straightaway. The cord
tightly binding his genitals was making the delicate flesh against which it
rested sore. The boy’s restricted sexual organs were also darker in colour
than normal because of the reduced blood-flow, although thankfully they
remained relatively healthy and were not black, which would have meant that
they were dead and he had been castrated.
Marius was briefly tempted to remove the cord to bring some relief from the
soreness. However, the idea was quickly dismissed. Such an action would break
the seal, which Scyrax had taken trouble to affix, and the fat man might
actually make good his threat to convert the boy into a eunuch for his
disobedience, or at least otherwise punish him severely.
As Marius sat in his cell, naked and alone, enduring the discomfort in his
groin, he next contemplated the fact that the day ahead would probably
determine the whole course of his future life. He was going to be taken to
market and sold to the highest bidder like any other item of livestock. His
purchaser would own him and could do anything with him in just the same way as
his dogs, horses or cattle.
Marius did not feel any great resentment in being treated in such a way. After
all, the institution of slavery was an integral part of Roman life.
Marius naturally wished that he was not a slave and he was fearful of what was
to come. However, he generously and philosophically considered that his
current servile status was as a consequence of misfortune rather than
injustice.
Marius believed that being a slave was the price that the gods were insisting
that he must pay in return for not letting him be killed like his older
brother and sister. The boy considered that lamenting or complaining about the
divine judgement was not sensible but sacrilegious. He instead simply thought
that he must make the best out of what the deities had now gifted him in life.
Marius did profoundly hope that the gods might now still have sufficient
remaining consideration for his welfare to ensure that he was imminently
delivered into good hands by being bought by a kind master. The boy’s pride
made him prefer the idea of having in such a paternalistic society as Rome
another male owner. His stance was also enhanced by the fact that his chances
of being castrated would certainly be increased considerably if he was
purchased by a female.
Marius fully appreciated that Scyrax only dealt in exceptional boys, who were
regarded as expensive luxury speciality goods for the discerning rich. He also
realised the nature of some of the services that he might be required to
provide to a man.
Marius knew too, genuinely without exaggeration or personal hubris, that he
was truly a very pretty boy, as Scyrax only traded in such lucratively
outstanding juveniles. His body, especially his unruly cock, also told him
that he was ready to endure and perhaps enjoy a new role in a pederast’s
service.
Lying naked, alone and apprehensive in the small isolated cell, Marius even
now attempted to imagine what some aspects of his life might be like with such
a new master. The boy’s thoughts were of such intensity that he could almost
feel the man’s arms about his nude body, the adult’s smell in his nostrils and
his taste in his mouth.
Marius’ preparation for resale by Scyrax had not just comprised manners and
domestic duties. Instruction in how best to pleasure a man was also included,
which indicated the fat man’s thoughts about the most likely ultimate destiny
for his special young slaves.
The relevant lessons were taught through practical demonstrations, generally
comprising two of Scyrax’s older and experienced slaveboys, with one compelled
to suffer sodomy and the other forced to perform fellatio. The relevant youths
were usually in two minds about their involvement.
The youths generally disliked the public nature of their demonstrations,
especially as most of the spectators were younger than them, and the fact that
their acts were frequently slowed and even stopped so that Scyrax could point
out certain key issues to the class. They were also averse to the regular
criticisms levied at them from their master for any perceived ineptitude,
which was often undeserved but which the hypocritical fat man nevertheless
liked to deliver to satisfy one of his cravings, namely to humiliate. However,
they additionally did usually gain some pleasure, given that the occasions
represented the only time that the boys of the household were allowed to have
sex with each other, apart from when such deeds formed part of their owner’s
personal entertainment.
The rare virgins, like Marius, amongst Scyrax’s young slaves were, of course,
not allowed to participate in such demonstrations, other than as invariably
intrigued spectators, in order to protect their valuable purity. Other younger
boys were also generally excluded but not because of likely ineptitude.
The age of such boys instead usually meant that their bodies had not been
molested too much, and their anuses in particular had not suffered regular
penetration, or Scyrax would not have bought them in the first place. Their
master prided himself on sending juveniles to market whose rectums, even if
they were no longer virgins, were still nicely sufficiently tight to provide
their new owners with immense pleasure if they were so inclined.
Marius had been as intrigued as most of his fellow young slaves when watching
the homosexual demonstrations, in which the foreplay required to provide a man
with the greatest pleasure was given as much prominence as the sex acts
themselves. The boy’s loincloth frequently bulged to provide evidence that his
unruly cock was equally enthralled.
Marius now told himself that he would indeed try hard to be a good slave and
to please his new master in any way that he wanted, whilst optimistically
dismissing the worrying idea from his mind that his new owner might be female.
Apart from the obvious motive, namely that he might be punished if he was not
competent, another more subliminal reason for the boy’s attitude was that,
having been brutally wrenched from his family, he was in desperate need of
affection. He wanted to love and be loved.
Marius next contemplated who his new master might be. He pondered whether he
might be a Senator or at least a rich equestrian.
Perhaps, after many years of loyal service, Marius’ new owner might grant him
his freedom, and subsequently he would be able to find Pannnychis, the slave
girl who had suffered so much for helping him, whom he would buy and set free.
He would also purchase Sulis from Scyrax and they could then all live happily
ever after together. The girl could cook and look after the house, whilst the
boys worked to earn money.
For a while, Marius sat happily dreaming such thoughts but then his recall of
Pannychis reawakened nightmare memories of the last few weeks. He remembered
Echios, his father’s steward, who had suddenly changed from obsequious servant
to insolent and cruel gaoler.
Marius recalled his imprisonment in the farmhouse cellar and the inherent
darkness, squalor and hunger, relieved only by the scraps of food smuggled to
him by Pannychis. He remembered the terror that had overcome him when the girl
eventually did not come again and he was left to lie there in his own filth,
with his increasing starvation gnawing at his guts.
Marius recalled the sudden appearance of Crastus, who informed him with casual
brutality that his father had been executed as a traitor and he had personally
killed his older brother and sister. He remembered his own shame at the way
his body had been humiliatingly aroused by the touch of this sadistic butcher.
Marius recalled the brutalities committed by Crastus and his men during their
stay at his late father’s farm, including the whipping of Echios’ favourite
boy, Pulchellus, and of his own protector and friend, Pannychis. He remembered
the horrors of the long and painful march to Rome.
Marius recalled his sale to the slave dealer, Scyrax, and the cruelties he had
witnessed and endured in his house, including the needless flogging of Nisus,
Giton, Sulis, Lysias and dozens of other frightened and defenceless young
slaves. His mind heard again the sound of cane and leather cracking against
bare flesh, and of boys screaming as the harsh blows hit and tore their tender
bodies. He remembered his own agony, as Maccius had beaten his quivering
bottom.
As a consequence of such horrible recall, terror of the future suddenly
replaced hope in Marius’ mind. He therefore curled up in a small ball of naked
misery, sobbing quietly to himself. However, in time, renewed sleep eventually
brought him momentary release from his fears.
Chapter 39
Marius was eventually awoken by the same adult slave who had brought him to
his small cell. However, the servant was now unlocking the chain around boy’s
ankle.
Marius was subsequently led out of the cell and along a series of corridors to
a large room with a high ceiling and windows overlooking the central
courtyard. The bright sunlight that pervaded the place brought out the
brilliant colourings of the frescoes that covered the walls, which portrayed
scenes of the most debauched but also rather refined depravity. Beautiful
children of both sexes were pictured catering to the perverse tastes of
various gods and other creatures. The artist had combined cruelty and sexual
licence to create a masterpiece of eroticism.
The beauty of the boys pictured was, however, rivalled by that of the scantily
attired variety, who hurried on bare feet about the room, bearing trays laden
with food, drinking cups, ewers of hot water, towels, mirrors and all the
other paraphernalia of a luxurious breakfast and toilet. In the centre of this
activity stood the gross figure of Scyrax.
At the moment when Marius was brought into the room, Scyrax was standing naked
by a couch, with his huge belly bulging before him. The fat man was urinating
into a silver bowl held for him by a small black slave with the sweetest round
bottom, which was fully revealed because the boy only wore the minuscule white
thong appropriate for his tender age. The child knelt respectfully on the
floor while his master directed a stream of pungent amber fluid into the dish,
which was held dangerously close to his face.
The adult slave left the still naked Marius standing just inside the entrance
into the room. The boy immediately experienced a feeling of great horror
because he now saw that Maccius was lounging on the couch close to Scyrax.
Maccius was also naked but, while Scyrax’s body was obscenely fat and covered
with a mat of dark hair, the youth was slim, with the only hirsute patch being
a little tuft above his genitals. However, regardless of how lithely smooth he
was, he disported himself with such arrogance that no one could confuse him
with the slaveboys who hurried nervously about the room.
Maccius was playing with a dagger with an ivory hilt, which was a gift from
Scyrax and the pommel of which was set with a single large ruby. The sunlight
glinted on the slim blade as the youth toyed with the weapon.
Whilst Marius watched, Maccius lent forward and, smiling wickedly, rested the
point of the dagger against the side of the little black slave’s thigh. The
boy instinctively tensed, as he felt the touch of the sharp cold metal against
his bare flesh.
Maccius’ smile broadened as he increased the pressure on the dagger. Marius
then saw the point of the blade sink into the boy’s taught thigh, causing a
bead of blood to form on his dark skin and begin to trickle downwards. The
child’s chest clearly heaved, as he felt the resultant pain but he still
somehow held the bowl steady, as proof, if any were needed, that discipline in
the abode of Scyrax was firm.
The stream of urine finally dwindled to a trickle and Scyrax shook the last
few drops from the tip of his cock and wiped his hands on the young slave’s
tight black curls. The fat man subsequently gestured and the boy rose to his
feet, bowed deeply and backed away, still carrying the bowl with the obnoxious
steaming contents.
As the black boy passed Marius, the latter noticed that the side of the young
slave’s leg was glistening darkly with fresh blood. Meanwhile, Maccius laughed
and licked the tip of his dagger.
Scyrax glanced around and, observing Marius, beckoned the boy to him. The 11
year-old obediently moved forward but on leaden legs and with his fearful eyes
fixed on Maccius. The youth said nothing but smiled coldly at the advancing
child, whilst testing the point of his dagger on his thumb.
“I think the brat remembers you, darling,” Scyrax remarked before giggling
softly, whilst reaching out to draw the reluctantly arriving Marius to him.
Seating himself on the couch beside his youthful lover, he subsequently bent
forward to examine the wax seal on the cord still knotted tightly around the
boy’s now sore genitals.
“So, Mariullus, you’ve been a good boy,” Scyrax commented, “and not done any
of that nasty playing with yourself. I knew you wouldn’t be naughty.”
Scyrax subsequently turned towards Maccius and requested “Darling, please be
very kind and cut the cord off our dear sweet Mariullus.” The youth giggled
and, leaning over the fat man’s gross thighs, pressed the blade of his dagger
across the base of the boy’s cock. The young slave immediately shuddered and
instinctively closed his eyes.
“Stand very still now, dear sweet Mariullus,” Scyrax gently and wisely
counselled the alarmed boy, “as I wouldn’t want Maccius making a mistake. A
pretty little thing like you would be worth much less if he cut too far and
sliced your little prick off!”
Maccius again giggled and the deeply apprehensive Marius then felt the sharp
blade of the dagger drawn lightly across his cock, which amazingly suddenly
snapped upright. Such unruly behaviour was proof of both the boy’s renewed
shameful arousal and the fact that the cord and not his penis had been neatly
severed.
In reaction, Marius uttered a loud sigh of relief, which caused both Scyrax
and Maccius to laugh, whilst the boy glanced down towards his released and
rapidly reinvigorated genitals. He noticed that the cord had left a red mark
around his scrotum that was already thankfully rapidly declining in soreness
and intensity of colour.
Marius was encouraged to look up again from his genitals when he next heard
other people entering the room. The boy subsequently saw that Felix had
appeared, carrying a tray with a variety of objects on, including a strange
canvass tube with a bronze nozzle at one end and a wide funnel at the other.
Felix was followed by two young slaves, one carrying a large empty earthenware
bowl and the other a pitcher full of steaming soapy water. “Now, Mariullus, we
have to ready for today’s auction,” Scyrax advised and, after taking hold of
the boy by his wrist, pulled him face down over his knees.
“As part of the process,” Scyrax next informed Marius, “we must have you clean
inside and out.” The fat man subsequently rested one hand gently on the boy’s
bottom.
Marius shamelessly wriggled appreciatively under Scyrax’s touch. The boy felt
strangely content lying across his master’s fat thighs, with his bare bottom
being visited by the man’s hand. He somehow experienced no shame, just a
feeling of acceptance and surrender, plus a rather perverse sense of pleasure.
“There’s a good boy,” Scyrax next murmured softly, whilst patting Marius’
naked bottom. “Now push that pretty little bum of yours as high as you can,”
the fat man subsequently instructed, “and spread your legs.”
“There’s a good boy,” Scyrax then repeated, as Marius complied with the
instruction. “That’s right,” the man fat added just before causing his young
slave to gasp and wiggle slightly because he now carefully and gently pressed
freshly grease-coated fingertips into the child’s virginal anus.
Marius’ gasp and wiggle had not resulted from any pain. The boy’s audible and
physical reaction had instead emanated from the sudden surprise of the
intimate intrusion, plus some guilty pleasure.
Marius’ little erection, which was currently pressed against Scyrax’s thighs,
simultaneously quivered, which was a reaction that his master felt. With the
other evidence of the boy’s apparently delighted gasp and wiggle to support
his conclusion, the fat man remarked “You really are hot for it, aren’t you
child. Well, be happy in the knowledge that I think that the odds are that
your new owner will quickly give you it!”
Scyrax subsequently returned his attention to the task literally in hand by
carefully withdrawing his fingertips from Marius’ now greased anal entrance
and collecting the strange canvass tube with a bronze nozzle at one end. The
boy was soon to discover to what purpose the contraption was put.
“I’ll just make the nozzle a little warmer so it doesn’t make you jump so much
when I push it in,” Scyrax said in explanation as to why he was now rubbing
the bronze tip between his fingers, whilst also providing a hint as to the
contraption’s use. Soon afterwards, Marius caught his breath again in response
to a gentle anal intrusion.
On this occasion, however, a tip of bronze rather than of a finger was the
invader, followed after a slight pause by the initially pleasant sensation of
warm soapy water flowing into his innards. However, this early feeling of
wellbeing soon turned first to discomfort and then to positive pain, as the
pressure of the fluid inside him increased.
Marius began to murmur a protest, whilst he now started to wriggle uneasily on
Scyrax’s lap. In response, the fat man cooed “There’s just a little bit more
to go in, dear sweet boy. So please lie still.”
Marius somehow obeyed and, just as he thought that his insides might burst
from the pressure, the nozzle was withdrawn from his anus, and Scyrax
instructed “Now, stand up, little one, and hold the water inside you until
Maccius counts to twenty.” The fat man reinforced his command with a sharp
slap on the boy’s bare bottom.
After Marius had returned extremely uncomfortably to his standing position,
Maccius began to count very slowly, deliberately leaving long pauses between
each number and drawing each word out for as long as he could.
“Oooone……..twoooo……..threeee……..,” the wicked youth started.
Marius whimpered and clapped his hands on his curvaceous bottom, attempting
desperately to clamp his buttocks together to hold the liquid inside him. He
also began to jig about on his bare feet in order to try to find some relief
from his anguish, whilst his two tormentors lent back on their couch to watch
him and enjoy his discomfort.
Marius’ severe discomfort had not, however, returned his cock to flaccidity.
The boy’s shameful unruly erect penis instead wobbled around in line with his
jigging.
“Fourrrr……..Fiveeee……..Sixxxx……..”, Maccius happily continued to recite with
purposefully slow deliberation, whilst Marius proceeded with his distressed
jig to accompanying chortling from the pair of amused spectators. Felix also
looked on merrily, thoroughly enjoying the boy’s misery and hoping that the
child would not be able to prevent expelling the fluid from within him until
the sadistic youth’s count had reached twenty and so earn painful
chastisement. However, the eunuch secretary’s wicked wish was to be thwarted.
By the time that Maccius counted “Twentyyyy”, Marius had somehow still not
expelled the fluid within him, although he was immensely relieved when he
subsequently did so into the empty earthenware bowl. The boy had to squat
degradingly over this container for the purpose of emptying himself.
The smiling Scyrax watched Marius perform the demeaning deed, whilst the busy
bustle within the room carried on around. Despite the other recent bad
experiences that the boy had endured, he nevertheless fully felt the indignity
and shame of his current situation.
Marius subsequently had to suffer another similar distressing enema but, as
the fluid that he expelled from his innards was on this occasion clear,
indicating that his insides were now clean, Scyrax did not require the boy to
undergo a third. The fat man instead summoned the delivery of a large wooden
tub.
The tub was carried into the room by four of Scyrax’s older slaveboys, who
also filled the bath with warm scented water. Marius was subsequently required
to kneel inside, whilst his master personally sponged him down.
Scyrax later lifted the diminutive and therefore light Marius out from the tub
and used a towel to dry him. Scented oil was brought and the fat man’s plump
soft hands again strayed over the boy’s delectable body, this time kneading
and stroking, leaving no cleft or cranny of his young form untouched and
uncovered by the perfume.
As Scyrax worked, he spoke softly, almost hypnotically, to Maccius of the
experiences that Marius might face with his new master, including the sexual
pleasures that he might have to provide and possibly enjoy. The fat man
referred in particular to the undoubted immense attractions of the boy’s body
and the uses to which some bits might be put, whilst apparently being very
proud of the latest goods that he was sending to market.
“Look at these legs, Maccius,” Scyrax proudly requested of the youth, whilst
pointing in admiration at the relevant parts of Marius’ anatomy, “as they’re
so slim and elegant and yet so strong. Look, his thighs are firm and smooth,
and his bottom is so wonderfully pert, so well rounded, with those cute
dimples there……..and there!”
“Look at the nicely tight cleft of his bottom,” Scyrax recommended, before
ordering Marius to “Just bend forward a little, my child, so that Maccius can
see.” After the boy, who was experiencing a strange mix of humiliation and
pride at being discussed and ogled in such a manner, obeyed, the fat man
crudely suggested “Don’t these delicious curves simply appear to crave to be
fucked by a man’s big virile cock!”
“Talking about cock,” Scyrax continued, whilst turning Marius around and
placing one of his stubby fingers underneath the boy’s still resolutely stiff
penis, “doesn’t this prove how hot and desperate he is to have sex and be
fucked. I’m sure that the discerning customers at the market later will be of
the same opinion, and they’ll want either to oblige him or castrate him to
terminate his lusts!”
In reaction to Scyrax’s touch and words, Marius’ cock visibly quivered again
in apparent shameful masochistic excitement, with the shaft even rising from
his master’s finger, which caused the fat man and Maccius to chortle once
more. However, underneath the amused façade, the clever and perceptive
merchant in special boy flesh realised that his young slave was truly ready
for something else apart from sex.
Scyrax was an expert at readying his young slaves for resale at market. He
cleverly appreciated that, in order to obtain the best price for a boy of the
sort in which he traded, the child concerned should be sent to the auction
block in a high state of sexual excitement. Such a condition generally enabled
them to show off their liveliness to best effect, in particular one of their
principal physical assets, namely a proudly aroused and erect cock, which many
customers appeared to like to view.
All of the pederastic customers enjoyed the spectacle as evidence of how
lively the boys were likely to be in their beds. Some others, including most
females, were frequently just happy to see proof of the need to have the young
slaves castrated to prevent them being a sexual danger.
Boys so aroused and displayed on the auction block also often seemed to
develop a kind of energised physical pride, which overwhelmed any shame
resulting from their situation and was additionally somehow very attractive to
many customers. The mental state of the young slaves could often be
ascertained by a glazed gleam in their eyes, which was another factor in
drawing prospective purchasers to them and thereby increasing their value.
Scyrax eventually finished oiling Marius’ naked body, which was now standing
before him, burnished and glistening. The fat man subsequently neatly combed
the boy’s fair hair and stepped back to ask of Maccius “Have you ever seen
anything nicer, with his little proud cock all stiff and hard, ready and eager
for his new master? He’ll definitely fetch a good price at market today in
this state!”
“I’d like to have the brat,” Maccius disturbingly revealed in reply, “to
torment and hurt whenever I want.” The sadistic youth subsequently briefly
paused in responding, with a puzzled look on his face.
“Why is it that I so enjoy harming, even destroying, beautiful boys?” Maccius
then suddenly queried, as if philosophically debating in his cruel mind why he
was such a nasty sadist. Meanwhile, Scyrax momentarily worried that the youth
was actually asking that he give the precious young slave to him, which he
considered was too much to request, given the child’s undoubted auction value.
In current market conditions, young pretty boys were far more expensive than
any other kind of slave, even their female equivalents. A lot of rich men,
even those who were not pederasts, and women possessed a fashionable taste for
them, with many of them considering them nice ornamentation in their
households.
Wives were also often more happy to allow bisexual husbands, who displayed
their tastes more commonly, openly and tolerantly in the ancient era than in
apparently more sexually hung-up modern times, take boys to bed than girls.
Jealousy was somehow reduced if the object of passion was not another female
and the danger of inconvenient unwanted pregnancy was eradicated.
In order to protect his valuable investment, Scyrax declared to Maccius “Well,
dearest, I’m afraid that you can’t have this boy, as he’s going to make us
lots of money. Aren’t you Mariullus?”
Scyrax subsequently took the boy’s chin between his finger and thumb and
tipped his beautiful young head back so that he could look down into his face.
“You see, Mariullus,” the fat man then suggested correctly, “ the value of a
slave brat like you is your only protection. The more you cost, the more your
new master will surely look after you. So, if you try your best to fetch a
high price, it’ll be good for both of us!”
Scyrax next paused and, whilst smiling, ran a podgy finger along Marius’ rosy
lips. The fat man subsequently announced “And just to make sure that you try
really hard to fetch a high price at the market, I'll put a nice big reserve
on you. If you do not achieve that valuation, you’ll be brought back to me and
I will then give you to Maccius for him to play with!”
“So you will try hard, won’t you Mariullus?” Scyrax added. In response to the
sinister threat, the boy whispered in fear “Yes, Master!”
Scyrax proceeded to advise Marius of the reserve price that would be set, and
Marius’ heart sank. The valuation was not just big but huge, certainly enough
to buy about a dozen strong and experienced agricultural workers, which was
the only slave market about which the child possessed knowledge because he had
spent the bulk of his early life on his late father’s country estate.
Marius wondered who would possibly pay such an enormous sum for a mere 11
year-old boy. He did not believe that such a scenario could possibly arise and
his face immediately displayed his clear misery at the thought of being
returned unsold from market literally into Maccius’ cruel hands.
Scyrax noticed the boy’s miserable facial expression and laughed. “It is a
high price, Mariullus,” he subsequently chortled, “but I’m sure that a little
pretty virgin like you could achieve the valuation on a good day, especially
if you display yourself to best effect. You’ll therefore just have to try hard
and hope there’s a very rich buyer who fancies golden boys like you!”
The fat man laughed again, whilst Maccius simultaneously lent forwards to rest
the sharp point of his dagger against Marius’ bare chest, just below his rosy
left nipple. “Do let me have him, Scyrax, please,” the wicked youth then
pleaded, “as I would like so much to make his blood flow and to hear him
scream!”
Marius felt the cold sharp blade press against his vulnerable skin and glanced
across terrified into Maccius’ devilish black eyes, which were sinisterly
stern and glittering with libidinously cruel intent. The boy also believed
that he could perceive sadistic madness in the youth’s returned stare.
Marius additionally noticed a small fleck of lustful saliva appear at the
corner of Maccius’ painted lips, which essentially represented a scarlet slash
in the youth’s cruel pallid face, and subsequently begin obscenely to trickle
down his chin. As a result of the sight that was this nasty sadistic visage,
the boy could not prevent himself from instinctively whimpering in terror.
Marius initially did not know whether Maccius’ plea to Scyrax to give him to
the youth to be tortured was genuine or fake, designed just to terrify him.
Whatever the motive, the entreaty certainly did acutely frighten the boy, so
much so that his persistent little erection disappeared, with his cock
disappearing to scared flaccidity.
Scyrax, witnessing the sudden loss of Marius’ erection, admonished Maccius,
albeit again gently, by saying “Now look what you’ve done, dearest. The brat’s
prick has softened when I wanted it nice and hard for display at market. You
shouldn’t tease him like you’ve done, knowing full well that I won’t give him
to you unless he fails to achieve his reserve price at auction.”
Maccius had indeed already reluctantly accepted that Marius would be sent to
market instead of immediately being delivered into his cruel hands. He fully
appreciated that Scyrax needed such lucrative sales to maintain his lifestyle,
which, of course, included lavishing all sorts of treats on the youth.
Maccius therefore recognised the necessity, not least for his own quality of
living, for Marius and his like to go to market in pristine condition, which
earlier being badly damaged by him might preclude. However, the youth had for
some unexplained reason felt an especially strong sadistic attraction to this
particular boy, whom he wanted intensely to harm. The previous caning that he
had inflicted on the beautiful child not only had not been enough but also had
conjured a deep desire for more such hurtful action.
Maccius’ motive for making his request to Scyrax had actually faced reality by
being mainly a tease designed to frighten Marius, fully knowing that the fat
man would still send the boy to market. However, the youth did develop a
furtive hope that the scare that he had induced in the child might also make
him sulkily sullen at auction and consequently perhaps less attractive to
prospective purchasers and more liable to fail to meet his reserve price.
In such circumstances, Maccius did anticipate that Scyrax’s easily stirred
anger would facilitate Marius being given to him to receive comprehensive
punishment. However, the youth was still realistic enough to know that the fat
man would even then not want the boy to be permanently harmed.
Once Scyrax’s bad temper had calmed, he would undoubtedly decide that he
wanted to try again to resell such a valuable asset as Marius. Certain
limitations would therefore be placed on how far Maccius could go in punishing
the boy to avoid permanent damage. Nevertheless, the youth would still enjoy
reaching these painful parameters and perhaps even beyond, whilst falsely
claiming such misfortune was an accident, which he was sure that his charms
could persuade the fat man was true.
Such wickedly cunning furtive planning had pervaded Maccius’ mind at the very
time that he had been teasing Marius with his dagger and plea to Scyrax. The
boy’ reaction, namely the look of terror on his face and his sad return to
genital flaccidity, also suggested to the youth that his hope, that a certain
reserve price would not be attained and consequently the child would be
returned to him, might yet be achieved.
Scyrax now gestured to one of the young slaves who were attending to the
morning toilet of their master and his guest, Maccius, as well as helping with
Marius’ preparation. The boy obviously already knew what he was supposed to do
and brought forward a freshly laundered sparse white loincloth.
The young slave subsequently helped Marius to redress in this sparse
loincloth, afterwards carefully looking from all angles to ensure that the
brief attire was perfectly positioned. The front flap just about concealed the
inherent underlying minuscule thong that covered the wearer’s groin. However,
the rear was not so efficient, folding down the sweet curvature of the boy’s
bottom but leaving the very lowest part of his bumcrack just visible, in line
with Scyrax’s tastes. Meanwhile, apart from where the thin cord that held the
skimpy garment in place was resting, the sides of the child’s buttocks and
thighs, including the cute dimples present, were completely exposed.
Scyrax next gestured to his huge muscled black eunuch, whom Marius now knew
was named Alseus and who had been summoned to the room to collect the boy. The
African slave subsequently advanced towards his master and the child, whilst
carrying a slim metal ring with a light chain attached.
Alseus subsequently snapped the light manacle tightly around the right wrist
of the boy, who was slowly becoming more relaxed now that Maccius’ plea was
clearly not going to be met, at least yet. “Take him as arranged to market,”
Scyrax then commanded of the black eunuch, whilst mentioning the required
reserve price.
The boy next felt his wrist-chain being gently tugged, forcing him to turn to
follow Alseus out of the room. Behind him, he heard Scyrax say “Farewell,
Mariullus, and don’t forget to ensure that you obtain a good price, for the
sake of both of us!”
Marius also heard Maccius declare “But I hope that you don’t so that you can
be returned to me!” The wild laughter of the wicked youth subsequently again
reverberated shrilly around the room.
“You’re being naughty again by trying to frighten Mariullus, dearest,” Scyrax
once more admonished mildly. “Will you forgive me if I kiss you?” Maccius
enquired in response.
Marius then heard two sets of lips smacking together. The boy was too
disgusted to glance around for what he now sincerely hoped would be a final
sight of Scyrax and the dreadful Maccius.
As Marius was later being led by Alseus along the great colonnaded entrance
hall of Scyrax’s house, decorated by lewd elaborate floor mosaics and
brilliantly frescoed walls, depicting other perverse scenes, Sulis darted out
from behind a pillar. The departing boy immediately surmised that the other
child must have been dangerously hiding there much of the morning, hoping to
catch a last glimpse of his friend.
Alseus immediately stopped his progress down the colonnaded hall in surprise.
He was rewarded by the sight of Sulis rushing out of his hiding spot to place
his arms tightly around the neck of Marius.
Sulis’ fast action was achieved despite the fact that bodily movement still
hurt because of the recent comprehensive caning of his rear by Scyrax. In his
eagerness to see Marius for one final time, the boy had momentarily overcome
the anguish by simply somehow forgetting the pain.
In response to Sulis’ action, Marius looked down into the slightly younger and
therefore shorter boy’s face. The cheeks of the 10 year-old were wet with
tears and his lips were trembling.
Marius subsequently instinctively carefully held the sides of Sulis’
shoulders, where Scyrax’s cane had not caused harm, and bent his head to kiss
the boy hard on the mouth in an act of both affection and attempted
reassurance. Alseus simultaneously laughed at the sight of the two almost
naked children embracing in this manner.
Sulis knew that he was taking a dangerous chance in escaping his household
chores, hiding and subsequently revealing himself to hug Marius in farewell.
However, his bravery or recklessness had been aided by seeing Alseus leading
his friend.
Alseus was enthusiastically competent at thrashing boys at the evening
assembly when Scyrax so ordered, but mainly out of a sense of duty to his
master, plus a fear of his owner’s displeasure if he spared the rod somewhat,
rather than from inherent cruelty. The black eunuch was not a sadist like the
white version, Felix, and also tended not to report observance of minor
misdemeanours by the younger slaves, such as that currently being perpetrated
by Marius and Sulis.
After all, Alseus considered, he too was a slave and consequently he felt some
sympathetic rapport towards the boys of Scyrax’s household. Both Marius and
Sulis were also aware of the black eunuch’s gracious general attitude.
Sulis had therefore taken the chance that Alseus would not seek retribution
for the boy’s brief farewell gesture. His risk was rewarded when the black
eunuch eventually simply said to him and Marius, as they continued to cling to
each other, “Now, that’s enough, you two!”
“Go back immediately to your duties, which I’m sure that you’ve evaded for too
long, Sulis,” Alseus continued, “and I won’t report you for this interruption
to my own task at hand. However, I’ll have to appraise the master about your
foolhardiness if you make me arrive too late in the slave market to sell
Marius, as I wouldn’t want to suffer punishment for your recklessness!”
However, despite this warning, the younger boy momentarily continued to
exhibit some reluctance in releasing his slightly older friend.
Sulis had just suffered the loss of Nictys. The imminent disappearance from
his precariously unhappy life in Scyrax’s household of his newly found soul-
mate, Marius, was almost too much for him to bare, as was evidenced by his
dangerous desperate desire to wish his friend farewell.
Marius instead felt compelled to end their embracing for the sake of Sulis’
welfare. Still looking down at the slightly younger boy, he suggested “You’d
better do as Alseus says before we’re delayed too long or someone else sees
us.”
Marius subsequently forced the younger boy’s reluctant arms away from his neck
and let Alseus tug again at his chain to lead him away. “May the gods always
be with you, Sulis,” he then wished. However, his words appeared to be of
little comfort.
Sulis’ emotions broke completely, as he observed Marius being lead away to
meet an unknown destiny, in the course of which they would probably never meet
again. However, the younger boy did not follow down the hall. He instead just
stood his ground, sobbing pitifully.
A last sight of Sulis in such a state was not what Marius wanted to see on
leaving Scyrax’s house and that is not what was actually achieved. The scene
instead soon became much worse.
Bad luck caused Felix to choose this moment to enter the hall and suggest that
the gods would not always be with Sulis. The astute eunuch secretary assessed
in a glance what was happening and immediately drew out the metal tipped
strap, which he always carried, and advanced on the boy, whose bottom was
fully exposed because he only wore a thong and offered a very attractive
target.
The fact that the rear of Sulis’ body already bore the marks of a recent
comprehensive beating by Scyrax was no obstacle to Felix’s cruel intent. The
hall was therefore soon echoing with the crack of leather and the squeals of a
boy in deep distress.
On observing this dreadful scene, Marius checked again. However, Alseus pulled
firmly on his chain and he was led out from Scyrax’s house, with the
unmistakable sounds of a helpless younger child under correction ringing in
the boy’s ears.
Such last sights and sounds were definitely not what Marius wanted to see and
hear on leaving Scyrax’s house but they were what were actually achieved.
Their regular remembrance was to haunt the boy for a long time, although they
were now briefly forgotten.
The sights and sounds of juvenile misery were instead quickly displaced in
Marius’ mind by those of the busy Roman street outside Scyrax’s walled abode.
Men, women and children chatted, laughed, shouted and cursed, whilst barrows
rumbled noisily past, pushed by those delivering goods. Horse or ox drawn
vehicles were only permitted in the Imperial capital, by decree of the Emperor
Augustus, at night for safety reasons.
Marius had, of course, experienced Rome’s busy streets before but long weeks
spent confined to Scyrax’s house had made him temporarily forget and
consequently be unprepared for the crowds and din, plus the scenes and the
smells that now assaulted his senses. The sudden shocked excitement of being
out in the teeming thoroughfares therefore drove all thought of Sulis' sad
sufferings from his mind.
Marius’ excitement was substantially heightened by the fact that he was
himself a subject of much interest and admiration. On the previous occasions
that he had been out on the streets of Rome, few had taken any notice of him.
The boy had then been just a naked but filthy and half-starved young slave,
whose appearance was too disgusting for anyone to spend much time ogling.
However, now the situation was very different.
Marius had now been carefully tended, fed, washed and groomed with as much
care as if he was a thoroughbred horse. The boy’s hair and oiled skin
glistened with health.
Marius was now a highly desirable object of great beauty. Consequently, many
men and women turned to look at the almost naked honey-skinned boy with the
dusty gold hair. The majority of them smiled at the sight of his barely
covered slim young body, with the deeply dimpled sides of his curvaceous
bottom open to full view.
Quite a few men and women actually called out words of admiration, or offers
of money to Alseus if he would only let them briefly enjoy the boy’s obvious
attractions. Some even tried to touch him but the muscular black eunuch was
sufficiently big and fierce to cause most of them to fall back when he turned
on them.
The chain around Marius’ wrist was actually present not to prevent the boy
from running away, as there was nowhere in reality for him he escape to, but
to help Alseus prevent him from being molested or even stolen. The black
eunuch accordingly often yanked his young charge closer to him to avoid the
attentions of more persistent admirers.
Alseus was invariably entrusted with the task of taking Scyrax’s precious
young slaves to market. The black eunuch had acquired such proficiency in
delivering the boys safely, and with equal skill and security returning with
the coinage gained for their sale, that he had never let his master down yet
and he did not intend to do so now.
Meanwhile, the various flattery directed at him had caused Marius’ excitement
to revert to including a thrill other than that gained by being reacquainted
with Rome’s busy streets. The identity of this particular variety became
evident when the front flap of the boy’s skimpy loincloth began to bulge once
more.
Marius would therefore perhaps, after all, arrive and remain on the auction
block in as sexually excited state as Scyrax had desired and Maccius had
attempted to sabotage.
(To be continued)
* * * |
The Last One | NULLIFICATION | The dangers of thinking machines.Also, the story as submitted contained links to pictures that go along with the story. If they don't work I will post them on the discussion boards. | The Last One
"The Last One"
"XJ-427, you are cleared to land. Please follow the landing
beacons.
Welcome to Cygnus." I put the ship on autopilot and strapped myself
into
the gravity couch. The ship took me in for a rather nice landing to
a port
by the sea, and the couch released me. Norman, my android, gathered
up
all the tools and we exited the ship.
We were met by our local representative on the planet, a man by
the
name of Jerrod. "Welcome to Cygnus, Mister Shrike," he greeted me. I
responded
in kind.
"Central tells me you're having trouble," I began the
conversation.
"Do you know if it's a hardware issue or a software issue?"
"Trouble? Oh, heavens, no, no trouble at all. To be honest, I
was wondering
why you were dispatched here."
"I got a call from Central. You're sure there's no problems
here?"
"As far as I know. Here, let's go on into town. Perhaps they're
aware
of problems I'm not." He led me and Norman off to a waiting car for
the
short journey to New Melbourne. I glanced around. This truly was a
nice
world - everyone seemed to be happy and healthy. I didn't see a dour
expression
in the whole lot, and Jerrod wore a smile at all times.
We arrived at the HQ and I insepected the error logs. They
seemed okay,
so I decided to check in with headquarters. I sent the missive off,
inquiring
as to what the problem on Cygnus was supposed to be. It would take
twelve
hours to get a reply, so I had some time to kill. Really, I was just
tired,
so I had Jerrod take Norman and I to the room Central should have
had reserved
for me.
Once inside I was a little tired and pretty horny. I locked the
door
and got naked. "Norman," I called.
Norman began peeling off his clothing. I had had him adjusted
especially
for me - a very muscular appearance, deep voice, large functional
penis
for when I felt like being on the bottom. He was a capable
assisstant at
work, too, one of the new superior reasoning models. They were
programmed
to do what was best for their owner, as far as they could calculate.
I
had taught him to be a pretty good lover, and as he slid in and out
of
me I thanked my resource budget for allowing me to claim him as a
business
expense.
When I was sated I rolled over to sleep. "I will make contact
with
Central on this planet, with your permission," Norman asked. I said
sure.
The androids needed to periodically update data from current
databases
as part of their reasoning system, and did so from a central
location in
a particular region. As only this part of Cygnus was settled, there
was
only one machine. I passed out while he did his thing, standing
naked in
the center of the room, eyes closed.
I checked my message log the next day. What I saw was rather
disturbing
- I saw Jerrod, looking very nervous, describing that the androids
were
acting in an unusual manner, and he worried that they needed
maintenance.
His transmission was cut off due to atmospheric interference.
I showered and when I got out, Norman said that I was to meet
Mr. Jerrod
at the local hospital. I thought that odd. Apparently it had
something
to do with a physical; Jerrod hadn't known it was required or
something
equally dumb. Norman said it was, so I let him drive.
When we arrived at the hospital, a handsome droid directed
Norman and
I to an examination room. Norman told me he would perform the
necessary
tests; he had learned how last night. I stripped down. He took some
blood,
did the usual stuff - blood pressure, reflexes, all that. He left
the room
for a few moments while he waited on the results of the blood tests,
and
a pair of androids came in with a stretcher. They took out a needle
and
stuck me with something; I didn't bother asking what until I felt
groggy.
"It is a sedative to keep you docile during the surgery."
"Wha...what surgery?"
"You are to be neutered."
"Why?" I couldn't muster the energy to be pissed, but I was
mildly
worried.
"It is best for you." Was this why Jerrod had made that call?
Androids
were programmed to ensure that humans were happy, that they always
did
what was best for humans. I recalled the command words.
"Output...logical reasoning...to concept..."why am I to be
neutered...?"
The effort was immense.
They were now strapping me to a table but spoke. "Basic
principle of
action: Do what is best for human. Observation: Sexual tension,
disease,
emotional conflict result from sexual desire. Beneficial aspects:
short
lived pleasure. Pleasure is available from other sources.
Reproduction
is possible from other means. Negative aspects to conclusion:
depression.
Negative aspects can be repaired using minor brain surgery.
Conclusion:
Humanity would be best served by having its sexuality removed.
Instantiate
principle to this human. Therefore, you are to be neutered."
By this time we had made it to the operating room. Here I saw
Norman
again, now in the garb of a medical droid, preparing something. The
other
two lathered my groin and head with shaving cream and methodically
removed
all hair from those areas. I simply lay, limp, on the table, unable
to
really do anything due to the sedative coursing through me. Norman
finished
what he was doing and pulled some stirrups down from the ceiling.
The two
assistants placed my feet in them, hoising my legs into the air and
spreading
them wide. I felt the catheter go in, knew exactly what was to
happen,
but was calm.
They first put a tight ring around the neck of my scrotum, a
staple
almost, and cut my testicles off with a quick thwip of the scalpel.
They
fell into a waiting bag and were quickly disposed of.
Dealing with my cock was more involved. Norman first cut away
the outside
part of it going around the catheter, and pulled it off gently. I
couldn't
really see much as my chest got in the way, but I could see and
dully feel
Norman dig the interior part of my dick out of my abdomen, and felt
the
prick as he made a new pisshole. They took a few minutes to fix
everything
up down there and cleaned me off.
All the droids changed gloves and gowns and resterilized
themselves.
I wondered what more they would do to me. As it happened, I didn't
wonder
long as they stuck me with a needle and I quickly dropped off to
sleep.
I awoke back in my hotel room. My memory of the surgery and the
hospital
was a little groggy, but I quickly remembered what had happened. I
sat
up, nude on the side of the bed, and looked at myself in the mirror.
My
genitals were completely gone; instead of a penis I had a row of
stitches
and a plastic tube coming out from between my legs. They had regrown
the
hair on my head, but it never grew again elsewhere. I could feel
stitches
in my head as well.
What you may have trouble believing is that I didn't (and don't)
mind
it at all. The androids really are right about not having a
sexuality;
it's much nicer. I was worried when he first interfaced with this
planet's
central computer that you might resist the changes they've made, but
it's
nice to see that you're not struggling. You're one of the last ones! |
Rejection | PENECTOMY | She doesn't take rejection well. | Rejection
It had been a long turbulent flight from L.A. to New York..
After seemingly endless hours of baggage, taxis, check-ins, and
rain, Vince was ready to call it a day. The emergency meeting of
the corporate board left much speculation, especially when the last
quarters earnings were required for the meeting early the next
morning. A recent upsurge in savagery in the upper ranks left many
of the senior board members scrambling for assets and support while
nurturing paranoia all the way through the workforce. Vince was
not immune, but had long ago decided to seek employment in a more
secure institution, and was merely waiting for the appropriate
opportunity to part company gracefully. He headed for the bar to
relax and allow the alcohol to take the edge of his anticipations
on the morrow.
She approached him slyly, taking the padded bar stool next
to his and immediately set about adjusting the paint on her face.
It was quite sometime before he noticed her, and she was becoming
somewhat agitated at his lack of awareness. Finally, she
intentionally bumped the arm supporting his drink with her own, and
muttered a quick apology.
“I’m so sorry,” she purred, “let me buy you another.”
“Not to worry,” Vince replied sleepily, “I was finished.”
He turned to leave then caught a glimpse of her legs. They were
very long and went all the way up. He let his eyes wander up her
slim torso, over her full breasts, and up her slim neck to the
black infinite pools of her eyes. Her radiant skin reflected the
dim lights in the bar with a childlike innocence, and the long
rivulets of fine dark-brown hair flowed gently over her shoulders
and down her back. She was a goddess.
“Oh please,” she pleaded as she held her gaze firmly on
his, “I could use a little companionship right now; it was a rough
flight from Newark and I don’t know anyone in town.” Her freshly
painted lips were so inviting that he could not refuse even though
he sensed danger in her smile. With a quick wink to the bartender,
he took the fresh drinks and escorted her to a secluded booth. The
conversation was light and senseless, and it wasn’t long before
Vince lost interest in her superficiality. Her name was Ellen, and
she was a nurse practitioner or something similar, in town for a
medical seminar of some abstract form of surgery he had never heard
of and of which she sounded quite naive. His questions were met
with generalities or other questions, and he soon found himself
yawning. Normally, he would respond with far more interest in
hopes of eventually coercing her to his room, but he was tired, and
didn’t really desire the company or the hassles of a one night
stand tonight. Finally, he downed the last of his drink and
excused himself to retire.
“Oh please,” Ellen begged, “I don’t want to be alone
tonight.”
Vince paused, momentarily considering her offer one final
time, then shook his head, and pointed to several other single
gentlemen with a non-committal gesture.
“Are you sure?” she asked, “I could make you a very happy
man.”
“I’m sure,” he grumbled, as he turned and walked briskly
into the waiting elevator. Once in his room, he took a warm
soothing shower and fell into bed.
Sleep overtook him almost immediately and his final thought was to
thank his secretary for her prudence in the hotel selection.
He had just delivered some appetizers to the couples in
room 217 and was on his way back to the restaurant when he was
approached by a beautiful brunette with a sheer flowing white
robe. Her dark and protruding nipples were clearly visible, and
the definition of her shaved pubis made him immediately lose his
train of thought. When she coyly asked for access to the room
where Vince now soundly slept, he couldn’t refuse and handed her
the access card with trembling hands. She blew him kiss and
returned the card after she entered the dark suite giving him all
he required for his next wet dream. He thought it a might strange
that the room was dark, but was so overcome with her countenance
that he dismissed her potential invasion without a second thought.
Ellen smirked as she double bolted the door behind her.
She could make out his curled out form under the comforter, and
mentally reviewed her procedures as she withdrew a small white
handbag from beneath the flowing gown. Gently sitting by the side
of the bed she withdrew some steel fishing line, a small vial of
hydrochloric acid, a box of straight pins, a long glass tube, a
small roll of duct tape, and a small kitchen knife with a serrated
edge. Once the items were neatly arranged on the night stand she
turned to her sleeping victim, and gently eased him on to his back
where he began to snore loudly. She giggled as she lifted the
covers to find him sleeping only in a pair of boxers covered with
pictures of popular cartoon characters. Then, with quiet
efficiency, she firmly tied one ankle with the fishing line and
brought the free end under the foot of the bed to tie securely to
the other ankle being careful not to awaken him. Repeating the
process to his extended wrists, he began to stir to find himself
tied spread eagle to the bed. As he opened his mouth to speak, she
stuffed it with his socks and secured them with the duct tape.
Helpless, he struggled violently as she watched his plight from the
side of the bed.
As Vince struggled, the line began to cut through the thin
flesh around his ankles and wrists, and he felt searing pain tear
through each of his limbs. He whimpered and resigned himself
painfully to his confinement. Ellen then re-secured each line,
assuring they were taught against the broken skin. She then
reached up to the waistband of the boxers, and pulled them down his
muscular thighs slowly, revealing his shrunken manhood and a thick
growth of pubic hair. The cool air begin to stimulate the
sensitive flesh and his ball sack begin to tighten against his
abdomen as his manhood began to throb. Taking the knife, she held
it before his face, sending him into instant panic before she
brought it to the elastic waistband and sawed her way through his
last vestiges of privacy. Pulling the tattered cloth away from his
trembling body, she smiled at her conquest. He could have been
better endowed she thought, but he will be sufficient; and she
reached for the straight pins.
“We could have had such a wonderful evening,” she said
remorsefully, “But no, you had to reject me in front of all those
people. I don’t handle rejection well,” she continued as she
reached over and took his semi-rigid member into her soft hands,
“And I don’t like being humiliated in front of other people. Look
at me,” she commanded as the gown slipped from her shoulders to
cascade on to her thighs, “Am I not good enough for you?” Vince
nodded violently, but she pretended not to see as she stood up next
to him and cupped her full firm breasts making her nipples stand
out firmly. Slipping one hand down past her firm torso, she spread
her nether lips apart slowly to reveal the deep red moistness
within. She began circular motions around her love bud with two
fingers, as her other hand alternately pinched her nipples. Her
eyes closed and she rolled her head back as short pants signaled
her impending orgasm. He couldn’t contain his excitement amidst
the blatant spectacle of her eroticism, and his manhood began to
swell with excitement.
Ellen then sat on the bed and stroked Vince gently as her
orgasmic waves began to subside. Gingerly picking up one of the
straight pins, she embedded the point gently into the base of his
glans and begin to apply firm pressure on the head amidst his
senseless protests. The pitch of his moans increased as the pin
surged through the gristle and then popped out of the opposite side
of the shaft with a drop of blood on the tip. Vince arched his
back, and tears formed in his eyes, as the searing pain along the
path of penetration began to subside. He could feel a warm flush
creep up his neck and across his chest as she positioned a second
needle close to the first and slowly repeated the procedure,
watching his eyes widen in terror as the metal invader plunged
through the throbbing manhood only to emerge close to the point of
the first. He began to shake his head from side to side as she
positioned the third pin in the same radius around the base and
plunge it through him quickly, watching his back arch as another
wave of searing pain tore through his skull. By now his glans was
on fire, and was so sensitive that the gentle touch of her
fingertip would send him into a new round of agony.
Ellen continued to poke pins into his glans, changing the
angles from time to time to insure that each new insertion could be
fully experienced by his inflamed nerve endings. He began to
whimper and his eyes glazed in pain as shock began to spread
through his extremities and his brain began to shut-down its
sensory input. Her insertions were relentless; as once the glans
was fully aerated, she began to concentrate and the softening
shaft, rupturing blood vessels to observe the blood pocket in
purplish pools beneath the now lumpy skin. Soon, the entire box of
pins was protruding in various angles around his manhood, as it lay
in a wilted mass on his abdomen. Vince was beyond sensations now,
and lay apathetically twitching from side to side. She rose from
the bed, slowly running her hands over her nakedness as she admired
the havoc wreaked on his masculinity
“You don’t deserve to keep it,” she commented, “you don’t
use it and isn’t large enough anyway.” With that, she leaned over
and buried her head between his legs, slowly drawing his ball sack
into her mouth and expertly stimulating his gonads with her tongue
and gentle humming. Despite the agony, his manhood began the slow
resurrection back into it’s former glory. It was now discolored,
misshapen, and engorged with tiny metal shafts, yet it still had
enough integrity to stand proud against its merciless assailant.
Ellen gently grasped the shaft with one hand as blood began to
trickle from the many wounds and flow down into his pubic hair.
With her free hand she gradually inserted the glass tube into his
urethra and applied gentle pressure as the clear plastic slowly
disappeared down the length of his shaft. She could feel the flesh
tearing inside him as the blood began to flow freely from the tip
of the straw. Vince never uttered a sound or offered resistance as
he could no longer feel anything in his abdomen; he just stared at
the ceiling in total abandon. Once the end of the tube was fully
inserted, she reached for the knife and placed it firmly against
the base of the shaft.
“Say goodbye,” she suggested, as she began to saw the flesh
away slowly, the residue collecting on the matted bloody mass of
pubic hair, as a trickle of bloody semen emerged from the tip of
the tube in his urethra. The knife cut a jagged line deeper into
the porus gristle with every stroke, and Ellen hoped that he
feeling as much horror as she was pleasure in the detachment of his
symbol of masculinity. Vince was. As she pulled his manhood
against knife and continued to saw the flesh, she felt it rip and
pull free in her hand. The fountains of blood spurting from the
wound with every heartbeat were quite impressive, and she paused to
enjoy the exhibition. As the flow began to recede, she knew he
would soon perish from the blood loss unless she acted quickly.
She grabbed the acid and poured it on to the bloody stump changing
what remained of his manhood into a smouldering mass of
unrecognizable flesh. As the foul odor of burning flesh reached
his nostrils, Vince lost his grasp of reality and slipped
mercifully into unconsciousness.
Ellen neatly tied the severed end of his manhood with the
fishing line and placed it into a lined pocket in her handbag. She
carefully untied his tortured extremities and pulled him off the
bed and into the bath tub. Rolling up the sheets neatly, she threw
the remaining item on the nightstand into her handbag, and blew a
kiss towards the bathroom as she calmly unlocked the door, and
headed down the hallway in her stunning gown. Flipping her access
card to the bell boy as she walked out into the rain, she climbed
into a waiting taxi, and sped off into the night towards a deserted
warehouse along the river.
She was met by one of her co-workers as she entered the
partially collapsed structure.
“Well, let’s see it,” the coworker exclaimed excitedly;
then, upon seeing the shriveled, purple mass of manhood, “Not the
best specimen I’ve seen recently!”
“I know, I was disappointed too,” minced Ellen; “I wish we
didn’t have to do this - it seems so unfair to plunder such a naive
group of humans.”
“So true,” mumbled her saddened co-worker; “Why do we have
to provide the Queen with such a delicacy - she should eat
livestock like we do!”
“I agree,” confirmed Ellen, “But since we began providing
her with this tenderized male-meat, she has left our breeders
alone. I heard it rumored once that she was rejected by a breeder
some time ago, and has since sworn off eating any other type of
meat. It’s only a rumor, mind you.”
“I heard the same rumor,” concurred the co-worker with a
sigh, “I guess we’ll never know.”
Vince was barely able to stand, much less make it to the
corporate meeting on time the next morning. A double dose of
aspirin had eased the throbbing in his genital region, but the
pressure of his underwear against his inflamed gonads was quite
uncomfortable and he was force to stand during the entire
presentation. As feared, it was a company wide reorganization, and
his position was being eliminated. However, the company president
had decided to open a new line of end use commodities, and because
of Vinces’ impeccable record, would place all aspects of
manufacture, quality control, distribution, and advertising under
his management. The next day, after a miserable return flight to
L.A., Vince submitted his letter of resignation. Somehow, he could
not entertain supporting a new line of textured condoms. |
WESLEY'S GREAT KLINGON ADVENTURE: | GAY, TESTICLES, MINOR | Wesley Crush get\'s kidnapped by some horny Klingons. | ` The Klingon Bird Of Prey was cloaked and following The Enterprise to the
Alpha Gamma System. Its mission was to negotiate the mining rights for
dilithium. The inhabitants of Alpha Gamma Prime aged backwards and the elders
looked a lot like Human children. Because of this Wesley Crusher has been
enlisted to acted as the main negotiator. `
The Klingons in the ship found out this information, and the Captain hatched a
plan that would not only mess up The Enterprise's mission, but to also give
his crew a bit of fun.
Both ships dropped out of warp and took up orbit around Alpha Gamma Prime. The
away team with Wesley, Captain Picard, Doctor Crusher, and Mister LaForge all
met in transporter room two and stepped up on the pads. The transporter
crewman set in the beam down coordinates he received from the planet and
energized the transporter.
Aboard the Klingon ship, the Klingon working the science station punched in
the command when he detected the transporter, and intercepted one of the
signals. A person started to materialize on the bridge, and soon that person
turned into a now naked Wesley Crusher. As soon as he was fully aboard, the
Bird of Prey left orbit and jumped to maximum warp, not even waiting to be out
of the solar system.
Wesley tried to cover himself up, but he found he could not move. He was in
some kind of confinement beam. He looked around and was shocked to see all the
Klingons were naked. They only had on some kind of leather belt with there
house knifes and scabbards.
Wesley saw the Captain raise from his chair and give a command in Klingon.
Wesley was bent over and felt his ass cheeks being pulled far apart. The
Captain stood in front of Wesley and barked orders to his naked crew. Wesley
was able to see the Captain's crotch area, and all he saw was a thick bush of
black hair. He could see no testicles and the Captain's penis was so small
that Wesley had to use all his willpower to not laugh, because a Klingon's
dick was smaller then a new born human child's penis.
Wesley felt a object roughly shoved up his ass. If he could of open his mouth,
his scream of pain would of been much louder then what did escape. He felt a
warm fluid start to flow up into his ass and guts. At first it was not to bad,
but then as more fluid filled his colon, his belly became all bloated. At the
same time of feeling large cramps and not being able to expel the fluid inside
him, Wesley also started to feel relaxed and light headed. As timed pass,
Wesley started to giggle, and then as more time passed he would laugh at the
drop of a hat.
Wesley had no idea of much time passed, but the cramps got worse, and he got
more drunk.
Then the object that was plugging him up was yanked very roughly out of his
ass, and as soon as it was out all the way, Wesley's guts gave one last cramp,
and all the fluid and other objects came gushing out like a warp core breach.
Wesley looked down and he was able to see a thick red fluid forming a puddle
on the floor beneath him. Through the thick fog of his brain he was able to
put two times pi to the third power together and come up with a blood wine
enema. That is why he was feeling so light headed and fucked up.
Wesley heard a sharp command and he looked up again. The Captain was still
standing in front of him. Wesley watched in amazement as a flap of skin seamed
to drop down and out of the Klingon. Then two very large orbs dropped into the
skin. The Klingon Captain now had a pair of balls and they were huge. The
small stub of a penis then started to inflate with blood. Wesley's eyes grew
larger as the Captain's penis grew larger. The penis in front of him grew into
a very thick, 10 inches of Klingon cock. The Captain moved behind Wesley, and
Wesley felt a warm object rest on his hole.
Wesley tried to let out a window breaking scream, as the Captain forced his
monster dick into the small hole. But the field that held him in place, also
kept his mouth shut so that hardly any sound was able to escape from the nude
boys mouth. Wesley felt flesh rip as the Klingon cock was cramped up his ass
without any kind of lubricant. The Captain's fully engorged dick was no barred
balls deep in the human child. He enjoyed the wet and hot feeling surrounding
his hard tool, and the anal muscles contracted to try and push the large
invader out of the hole.
The Captain started his hip thrusts to pull and push his dick in and out of
the boy's ass. At the same time, he started to spank the boys ass with all his
Klingon strength.
SLAP, SLAM, SLAP, SLAM, SLAP ,SLAM
With every slap of his hand onto Wesley's butt cheeks, he slammed his dick in
as far and hard as he could. Another Klingon with at least 8 inches of Klingon
cock steeped in front of Wesley.
The field pulled open Wesley's mouth, and before he could let out a new wave
of screaming from his ass rape and spank, the very large and thick tube steak
was crammed into his mouth. It was pushed so far back down his throat, that
Wesley started to gag. The gagging was causing unfamiliar pleasure to the
Klingon who was fucking Wesley's face. There was a very loud and sharp command
given, and the face fuck Klingon pulled his dick out of Wesley's mouth, just
enough to let him breath. As soon as Wesley sucked in a lung full of much
needed air, the huge penis was thrust into his throat again. This time the
giant penis in his mouth started to piston in his throat and mouth, and after
several failed tries, Wesley was able to time when to breath in and out.
As Wesley was raped at both ends, he was able to look around a little with his
eyes, and he saw several members of the Klingon crew openly masturbating there
very large dicks, and rubbing there even larger balls. The Klingon who was
fucking Wesley's mouth let out a primal roar and started to cum. Large gobs of
fluid with the consistency of a rotten oyster and the taste of battery acid,
started to fill his mouth. With that large penis blocking his mouth, Wesley
had no choice but to swallow the gross fluid. After Wesley swallowed all the
Klingon cum, the Klingon pulled his dick out of the mouth, and another one was
shoved into his mouth.
As his mouth was fucked by the new dick, the Captain was close to cumming
also. His dick was a rock hard piston in Wesley's ass, it was moving in and
out at a amazing speed. With one mighty thrust and both hands slamming down
hard on Wesley's ass, a flood of cum rocketed out of the Captains cock and
started to fill up Wesley's guts. It felt like a quart of jism shot of the
large cock and filled up Wesley's insides. The Captain pulled out and another
Klingon took his place. This next dick was not as large in Wesley's ass, but
it still was large enough to cause pain to Wesley's ravished ass.
On and on, hour after hour, Wesley's ass and mouth was raped at least two
times by each Klingon. Wesley's butt cheeks were almost black looking now from
the spanking, and his asshole was so stretched open, that his mom could fist
him and he would never feel it.
During all this fucking, Wesley's ass became so full of Klingon cum, that they
had to give him another blood wine enema to get some of the goo out of him, to
make it more pleasurable for his Klingon rapists.
As time passed and Klingons got tired waiting for there next turn to use the
boys pussy or mouth, they used the confinement field and made his fists grab a
hold of some large dicks. Then the owners of those dicks would thrust and hump
the boys fists until they shot there Klingon cream.
By the time all the Klingons had fucked themselves dry, there balls had pulled
back up inside there bodies, and the dicks had shank again, Wesley was covered
in sweat, and Klingon cum.
Two Klingons picked up a large barrel of blood wine and dumped it over the
boy, washing away the sweat, grime, and slime.
The field was then turned off and Wesley fell to the floor. His body hurt all
over and he could barley move a muscle. A klingon picked up and tossed him
over his shoulder. The Klingon the carried the boy to a small room that was
more like a closet, and tossed him down on the floor.
Wesley fell asleep a few moments after the door slid shut.
Wesley did not know how long he slept for, but when he woke up he felt very
cramped for sleeping on a cold floor for to long. There was a plate of food
and a large bowl of water on the floor by the door. Wesley first tried to open
the door, but upon finding it locked, he sat down and ate the food and drank
all the water. Wesley sat there and did calculations in his head to help pass
the time, but fell asleep again.
The door opening woke Wesley up and he looked up at the now dressed Klingon
Captain. The Captain pulled out his pistol and shot Wesley. When Wesley woke
up, he was secured tightly to a pallet that was resting on a transporter pad.
Wesley's body was secured to the pallet by straps all over his nude body.
There was even a strap over his mouth to keep him quiet. Wesley heard the
transporter and a Ferengi materialized. The Ferengi inspected Wesley's body
closely. He then walked to the side and had a talk with the Captain.
After handing the Captain a large amount of gold pressed latinum, the Captain
walked over to Wesley. He took a hold of the boys balls and pulled the up and
away from his body. He then pulled out his knife. The Captain stabbed his
knife into the center of Wesley's scrotum and with one large cut, had the bag
sliced open. He stabbed the knife into the pallet and then used his free hand
to take a hold of the boy's balls and pull them out of the bag of flesh. He
pulled and pulled so the cords came out of the body. When he had as much cord
as he could get, he picked up his knife, and as close to the body as he could,
he cut the cords.
During all this, Wesley was in so much pain and screaming his head off, he
started praying for death, the pain was to much. But death was not there for
him. Just more pain as a very hot blade from a now heated knife as pressed to
his crotch area as his scrotum was cut away at the same time cauterizing the
wound.
When the Klingon Captain stood up, Wesley would see his balls dangling from
their cords still in the Captain's hands. He had holstered his knife and was
tying the ball cords together. The Ferengi stepped up smiling from ear to ear,
up onto the pad and he and his new property formally known as Wesley Crusher,
beamed over to the small Ferengi assault trader. The Klingon Captain watched
the two beam away, then went to the Captain's room. On one wall he had a host
of weapons and other items he had taken as tokens of one kind of victory or
another. On a hook right next to the dead tribble, the Captain hung up Wesley
Crushers balls.
The Ferrnegi sold Wesley a few days later to a new erotic house of pleasure on
Rigel Seven. There Wesley learned the art of oral sex. He became so skilled at
it, that he could please and of the thousands of species that would come to
the house of pleasure for some sexual gratification.
Two years had passed since he was taken away from The Enterprise, and he was
busy sucking off a rather handsome Starfleet officer.
The officer pulled out his dick and gave it a few strokes and sprayed his cum
all over the young lads face. With his cum all over the young man's face, that
was when Commander Riker placed the somewhat familiar face of the eunuch, and
realized that he had finally found Wesley Crusher. His grin was mysterious as
he picked up his comm badge ...
The End
* * * |
Sandra et Sébastien | WARNING, PENECTOMY, Lebian, gang rape, hanging | a 17 YO boy is by mistake condemned to penectomy and hangingHe meets a girl on the execution day and they fall in love.story in french. | Mercredi, 8h30
Sandra buvait son bol de thé lorsqu'elle apprit la nouvelle par la radio :
"La nuit derničre, le tribunal a rendu son verdict dans le procčs des
assassins de laura, Octavie et valérie.
Si les deux témoins ayant découvert les corps inanimés des victimes ont été
mis hors de cause,
le tribunal a retenu la culpabilité de tous les participants ŕ la soirée
d'orgie ŕ l'issue de laquelle
les trois jeunes filles ont été étranglées aprčs avoir été violées.
Le tribunal, qui a déclaré vouloir rendre un jugement exemplaire, a condamné
les treize accusés ŕ la peine de mort, dont trois avec pénectomie.
L'éxécution aura lieu samedi matin sur la place publique devant la prison ou
sont enfermés les condamnés..."
Sandra avait suivi d'assez loin la chronique du procčs, elle n'aurait gučre
pręté attention ŕ cette nouvelle si son amie juliette,
qui avait pris fait et cause pour les trois victimes, ne lui en avait parlé ŕ
plusieurs reprises.
Encore la semaine précédente, alors qu'elles se caressaient dans son lit,
Juliette lui avait dit son indignation pour ces violeurs :
"-j'espčre qu'ils seront tous condamnés ŕ mort et je voudrais que tu puisses
venir avec moi voir leur éxécution".
Ensuite juliette avait joui plus intensément que d'habitude, sans ajouter un
mot.
Une demi-heure aprčs, le téléphone sonnait et juliette réitérait sa demande :
"- Sandra, tu as entendu le résultat du procčs ?
\- Oui, ma chérie. C'est pour samedi matin. Je veux bien venir avec toi, mais
tu sais bien que je n'ai jamais vu d'éxécution...
\- Je veux que tu viennes avec moi. Il y en a trois qui vont avoir le pénis
coupé, je voudrais que tu me caresses ŕ ce moment lŕ.
Mercredi, 23 h, dans une cellule d'isolement.
Sébastien, dans l'obscurité, passait mentalement en revue sa courte vie.
Il se souvint, sept ans, avec son copain d'école Pierre.
Ils se moquaient souvent tous deux d'un gars de leur classe, malingre, le
teint blčme, Aurélien.
Un jour, lors d'une visite médicale ŕ l'école, alors que tous les gamins
attendaient en slip de passer la radio,
ils avaient pris Aurélien dans un coin, lui avaient retiré la culotte.
Aurélien mort de peur, avait obéi quand Pierre lui avait ordonné, le menaçant
de lui couper,
de leur montrer sa bite, puis de décalotter son gland.
Quelques jours aprčs, Pierre et Sébastien jouaient dans un jardin en friche,
loin de toute surveillance.
Pierre, aprčs avoir pissé, se caressait devant lui, Il voyait son prépuce
aller et venir sur son gland décalotté.
Sébastien l'imita bientôt. Maintenant, il se souvenait de cette séance de
masturbation, et du moment ou il avait dit ŕ pierre
qu'il aurait voulu qu'ils aient amené lŕ Aurélien, les mains attachées dans le
dos, pour lui couper la bite.
"- Comment ?", demanda pierre.
Sébastien se revit sortant de sa poche son canif, ouvrant la lame, la posant ŕ
plat sur son ventre, le tranchant posé sur sa tige,
qu'il tenait tendue entre le pouce et l'index de l'autre main, tirant son
gland décalotté.
"- Oui, comme çŕ", avait-il dit en faisant aller et venir la lame. Il revoyait
la peau s'ouvrir, se rappelait le plaisir aussi intense que la douleur.
Il avait gardé sur sa peau une petite marque pour lui rappeler ce jeu.
Ce soir, tous les autres détenus de la prison avaient appris le verdict.
Tout le monde savait que dans trois jours, pour faire un exemple public, il
serait conduit sur l'échafaud avec les douze autres condamnés, les mains
attachées dans le dos. N'ayant jamais vu d'éxécution, il imaginait l'estrade
dressée sur la place noire de monde, dehors, devant la prison, sous le soleil
d'été.
A présent sa bite s'était tendue au creux de sa main gauche. Il prit sa tige
entre le pouce et l'index, décalotta son gland et posa l"index tendu de
l'autre main au ras de son ventre, le fit aller et venir et, aprčs un dernier
coup plus ample, s'imagina la suite :
sa bite tranchée était montrée pendante aux spectateurs par le bourreau, qui
le faisait s'avancer au bord de l'estrade pour qu'il montre sa tige coupée ŕ
un centimčtre du ventre, bien nette. Il lui semblait entendre les
acclamations...
Dix ans auparavant, il aurait aimé ętre le bourreau d' Aurélien...
Cette bite qu'il tenait frémissante d'excitation dans sa main, il l'avait fait
jouer avec les petites lčvres de Laura attachée grande ouverte lors de la
soirée sadochiste, avant de jouir dans le vagin étroit de la fille offerte.
Aprčs tout, il l'avait violée, alors...
Il jouit, avec une intensité folle. Jamais auparavant il n'avait imaginé
qu'une telle explosion soit possible ŕ l'idée de ce qui l'attendait dans trois
jours : on allait lui couper la bite en public.
Samedi, 8h45.
Sébastien venait de boire le café qu'on lui avait apporté dans sa cellule.
Il lui avait trouvé un goűt et une amertume inhabituels.
Il n'avait pas dormi de la nuit, ces heures étant trop rares pour ce qu'il lui
restait de vie.
Il allait bientôt revoir Joël, le gars de vingt-cinq ans qui lui avait fait
connaître le club SM oů ils avaient rencontré les autres participants ŕ cette
soirée funeste. deux de ces gars les avaient invités ŕ une partie "extra".
lorsqu'ils étaient arrivés ŕ l'adresse convenue pour la soirée en question,
trois filles - laura, octavie et Valérie - étaient attachées nues, offertes ŕ
leurs plaisirs. D'autres garçons étaient lŕ - ceux qui étaient maintenant dans
les cellules voisines - qui constituaient le réseau de copains qui les avaient
invités.Aprčs avoir tous beaucoup bu, ils avaient tous pénétré les filles ŕ
tour de rôle.
Vers trois ou quatre heures du matin, sébastien avait été le dernier ŕ jouir
dans le vagin de Laura qi était presque inconsciente.
Aprčs qu'ils aient quitté la maison, Laura et les deux autres filles avaient
été étranglées.
Les analyses faites par les médecins légistes avaient permis d'identifier
trois des participants ayant violé les filles juste avant leur décčs :
Sébastien et Joël étaient deux de ces trois assassins potentiels.
L'avocat de sébastien, récemment nommé au barreau, commis d'office pour sa
défense, n'avait jamais cru ŕ son innocence du meurtre de Laura, suggéré par
les accusations des autres inculpés.
Lors d'un interrogatoire lors de l'instruction, Sébastien avait reconnu avoir
violé Laura, mais nié le meurtre.
Juste avant le procčs, son avocat l'avait préparé ŕ un verdict sévčre, mais
Sébastien espérait échapper ŕ la peine de mort, convaincu de son innocence.
Il ne s'attendait encore moins ŕ devoir subir la pénectomie avant son
éxécution capitale.
Ce samedi matin, aprčs trois jours et nuits blanches d'angoisse, ses forces
mentales épuisées, il était pręt ŕ accepter son sort.
Alors qu'il méditait tout celŕ, espérant encore un peu que sa pensée pourrait
changer le destin qui l'attendait,
la porte de sa cellule s'ouvrit et deux gardes l'emmenčrent.
on l'amena ŕ la douche, il en ressortit sans ses vętements et les gardes lui
attachčrent les mains dans le dos.
Il fut conduit dans un bureau oů l'attendait un homme qu'il identifia comme un
médecin.
Celui-ci lui donna ce qu'il présenta comme un tranquillisant "- pour apaiser
son angoisse -" dit-il, compatissant.
Il mesura la hauteur entre le sol et l'endroit oů sa bite allait ętre
tranchée, au ras de son ventre.
Aprčs lui avoir rasé le pubis, il traça avec un feutre noir un trait
circulaire autour de sa tige, ŕ un centimčtre de son ventre :
sébastien comprit que ce signe était destiné au bourreau qui était chargé de
lui trancher la bite ŕ cet endroit.
Enfin l'homme tira vers le ventre de Sébastien la peau de son prépuce de façon
ŕ lui décalotter le gland.
Il comprit confusément qu'il allait ainsi monter sur l'échafaud la bite
offerte.
sa bite se tendait doucement sous l'excitation...on lui mit enfin un bandeau,
et les gardes l'emmenčrent.
Samedi, 9h 05, sur la place devant la prison.
Aprčs avoir senti la chaleur du soleil sur sa peau nue, les gardes lui avaient
fait faire quelques dizaines de pas.
Il entendit le murmure de la foule qui attendait de voir l'éxécution.
Il comprit qu'il était arrivé ŕ l'échafaud lorsqu'on lui fit gravir une
dizaine de marches, puis marcher sur un plancher qui résonnait sous ses pas.
On lui retira son bandeau.
A sa droite, dix potences avec une corde terminée par un noeud coulant, et dix
des condamnés lors du procčs.
Il reconnut pour la plupart leurs visages. Tous étaient nus, le ventre rasé.
Devant lui au milieu de l'estrade, une potence avec trois cordes.
A sa gauche, au bord de l'estrade, face ŕ la foule, une chose constituée d'un
poteau vertical et ŕ l'équerre sur celui-ci une courte planche fixée
verticalement. Il voyait vaguement un mécanisme devant cette planche, puis
distingua un trou de quatre centimčtres de diamčtre au milieu.
Il se fit la remarque que la hauteur de ce trou correspondait ŕ la hauteur
mesurée par le médecin de la prison : il comprit que le mécanisme servait ŕ
actionner la lame qui allait lui trancher la bite.
A ce moment arriva Joël, encadré par deux gardes, qui l'emmenčrent ŕ côté de
lui.
Ils se regardčrent.; Joël avait comme lui le pubis rasé, et la męme marque sur
la tige, presque au ras du ventre. Sa bite était dressée ŕ l'horizontale, le
gland décalotté. Le dernier condamné arriva dans le męme équipage, Joël fixait
la bite de Sébastien, sans un mot.
Sébastien remarqua deux filles au premier rang, juste devant la guillobite.
L'une des deux - Sandra - croisa son regard avant de descendre contempler sa
bite offerte, tendue sous l'effet du viagra.
Juliette se serra contre sandra : l'éxécution allait commencer.
Elles avaient mis des jupes trčs courtes, et étaient nues dessous.
Juliette commença ŕ caresser Sandra, qui était déjŕ toute mouillée.
Sandra, en cherchant puis caressant le clitoris de son amie, croisa ŕ nouveau
le regard de sébastien.
Elle esquissa un sourire, il se surprit ŕ lui répondre.
le bourreau et son aide passčrent la corde au cou de chacun des dix condamnés
alignés en serrant le noeud coulant sous leur menton, puis tirčrent la corde
jusqu'ŕ ce que leur pieds soient ŕ une vingtaine de centimčtres du plancher.
Ils avaient du recevoir aussi du viagra, car la plupart avaient la bite ŕ
l'horizontale.
La foule était silencieuse, attentive.
Sébastien regardait le second de la rangée.
Il vit le sperme couler de son gland décalotté, alors que son corps était
secoué de spasmes.
Il l'envia presque.
Le dernier arrivé des condamnés était debout ŕ côté de Joël.
le bourreau et son aide vinrent le chercher, le présentčrent ŕ la foule des
spectateurs.
Ils furent acclamés. le bourreau lui saisit la bite et l'introduit dans la
lunette de la guillobite.
Sébastien le voyait de profil, sa bite était plus grosse que la sienne,
palpitante, le gland fičrement tendu en avant, défiant les spectateurs.
Le bourreau attendit trente secondes qui parurent une éternité, puis on vit sa
main lever lentement la manette qui déclenchait le mécanisme.
Sébastien vit la bite coupée tomber sur le plancher de l'échafaud.
L'aide la ramassa et la montra, puis le condamné fut ŕ nouveau montré ŕ la
foule : on vit sa chair rose coupée au ras du ventre,
on lui mit la corde au cou et le pendit.
Sébastien regardait les deux filles qui ne se cachaient plus pour se caresser.
Sandra croisa son regard un instant, il crut lire dans ses yeux : " c'est toi,
maintenant ?"
Le pendu tournait au bout de sa corde, il s'arręta face ŕ la foule.
Sébastien vit un filet doré couler du milieu de sa tige coupée le long de sa
jambe jusque sur le plancher.
L'urine avait lavé le sang sur la chair de sa bite tranchée bien nette.
Le filet se transforma pendant quelques secondes en jet, on entendit des
exclamations parmi les spectateurs.
Sébastien fut soudain rempli de l'envie d'ętre exposé ainsi devant cette fille
qu'il ne connaissait pas, pour qu'elle jouisse devant lui.
Lorsque le bourreau emmena Joël, celui-ci tremblait de tous ses membres.
Cette fois sébastien regarda attentivement la bite dans dans la lunette de la
guillobite et vit distinctement la lame la trancher.
Lorsque joël commença ŕ se balancer au bout de sa corde, l'aide du bourreau
ramassa la bite de Joël et montra ŕ la foule les deux bites coupées, tenues
par le bout de la tige entre le pouce et l'index de chaque main.
Les faisant se balancer, il rapprocha ses mains jusqu'ŕ ce que les glands
décalottés se touchent ŕ chaque oscillation.
Il se tourna vers Sébastien qui sentait l'excitation monter au bout de sa
bite.
Sébastien avança de lui-męme vers la guillobite, passant sur le bord de la
plate-forme.
Il s'arręta ŕ un mčtre de celle-ci, devant Sandra, et lui sourit faiblement.
Le bourreau vint le chercher, lui saisit les poignets dans une main et la bite
dans l'autre.
trčs vite Sébastien sentit la peau de son gland et de sa tige frotter sur le
bord rugueux de la lunette.
Sandra et lui ne se quittaient plus du regard. Il sentait la planche au
contact de son ventre, il devinait que les spectateurs voyaient le trait noir
autour de sa tige, au ras de la lunette;
Sandra sentit que sa bite frémissait pour elle, qu'il désirait intensément se
la faire couper pour elle seule.
Le bourreau prit entre pouce et index sa tige juste derričre la couronne du
gland, tira la peau en arričre sur la tige gonflée de plaisir.
Le gland tiré vers le bas par le frein salua les spectateurs.
Les doigts du bourreau firent une douzaine de fois l'aller-retour d'avant en
arričre.
La bite étant au maximum de tension, il fit glisser ses doigts sur la tige
vers la planche jusqu'ŕ la toucher, et l'agita plusieurs fois de haut en bas,
comme un adieu ŕ Sandra.
Le bourreau lâcha sa bite et saisit la manettequi allait déclencher la lame.
Sébastien baissa la tęte, regardant intensément sa bite offerte et la lame sur
le côté.
il murmura : "coupe la moi pour elle".une seconde aprčs, il vit la lame mordre
sa peau lŕ oů son couteau l'avait fait dix ans plus tôt,
pénétrer sa chair et sépare sa bite qui tomba devant Sandra.
Il fit un pas sur le côté et tendit le ventre en avant pour montrer ŕ quoi on
ressemble quand on vient d'avoir la bite coupée.
Il vint de lui-męme se placer sous la potence.
Quelques secondes aprčs, ses pieds avaient quitté le sol, et en moins d'une
minute Sandra vit son sperme couler de sa tige coupée.
Ils jouirent ensemble.
* * * |
the condition | PENECTOMY | Ghots of Christmas (past?) | ` As every year at Christmas time I set in order my wardrobe: twelve `
ghosts I met. It didn't occur since a lot of time and it wondered at
me. I knew well them; what I could not presume was the condition they
suggested me: to give someone else the jewell that everyone lended to
me, for their definitive vanishing. It is time I accept. I hope you
will like theese stones as I did. They gave me a lot of pleasures,
since my preschool age; especially the first that I renounce
unwillingly 'caue I was such a sheer creature, I did't know reading,
writing, right or wrong, sex or guilty. I remember only it was pure
pleasure:
\- the ingredient: I was kidnapped by a 'childeater-witch', 'cause she
changed into my mother. I became her servant. One night I escaped
because of nostalgia fo my mommy, but she take me again and told me:
"I would not eat you, 'cause you're also obliging; but the gravity
of your act need a grave punishment!" I was so afraid to die, that
allowed her to hypnotize me and read into my mind what was the most
terrifying thing for me. It was to have my dick severed, I liked to
play with it very much. She acted istantly to cut it off with one of
her sharp nails. A day went to our hovel a nice girl with her sick
kitten, the witch prepared immediately a potion with a special
ingredient and called me to watch the pet's lunch. I blushed and
felt tears to warm my cheeks. The girl noticed this and giggled.
\- hide-and-seek: I am a teen servant of two nobles sisters during
the 16th century. They were invited at the country house of an old
countess who arranges funny days for herself and others bored
time-wasters (only women). Is necessary being escortd by a young nice
servant:I am him. In the afternoon the old lady proposes her
favourite game:hide-and-seek. For this first afternoon I am chosen
as the guy to hide himself. After being stripped, I start into the
enormous dome. I find so cruel that all theese unknown women could
play with me naked. What I don't know is that, after my departure,
a butler brings a tray with a pair of scissors for each couple of
players. The first couple who will bring my little dick to the
countess will win a rich parure of jewells.
\- when the opportunity arises: I was admitted to ospital for an
urgent appendicectomy. I risked to die for peritonitis, so when
I wake up I'm happy to be alive and it is normal I feel my belly
achiving. But when I lift up the sheets, to see my bendages, I've
got the bad surprise of having nomore my dick! I know, my mother
caught me to jerk off, sometimes, but she never scolded me or
threatened punishments. I'd like to ask her, but she is not here
now! I'm muddled and desperate, I would cry, but I'm not alone in
the room. It's visiting time and I notice someone watching me and
smiling. Ashamed I turn my head to the wall side and between tears,
I see on the bedside table, into two glass containers covered by
a lace cloth, both my removed appendixes!
\- mathematical cleverness: In my village, every year a virgin boy
is chosen by the monks of the temple to be sacrified. After this
he will carry on an activity necessary to the community, so year
by year, the victim is chosen for his distinctive feature. This
year they need an administrator, therefore they look for the best mathematical
pupill into popular schools (the nobles never are
chosen!): here I am!
My parents are honoured of this and they don't oppose. So, at the
climax of the celebration, my penis will become food for the
goddess; it will be amputated an introduced, still hot and bloody
into the mouth of her gigantic stone mask! After this public
castration I will be the most important person of the village,
'till the new sacrifice. Then I will spend the rest of my life in
a scholar, peacefull chatisty.
\- a redeemed debt: a mistress pay off a family debt to her sister,
arised for an inheritance inequality, offering his son for a medical
experiment: in fact, the son of the second sister is a last-year
student getting ready her doctorate through a study about different
ways of inhibition for sexual perversions. She needs to terminate it
as soon as possible, but the popular indignation aroused by a
journalistic scandal, upon the usage of the orfanotrophy hosts into
medical experiments, prevented her to keep the subjects necassary.
He will be penectomized from his cousin, by mean of a new laser
technology: no pain, immediate cicatrization.
\- measure by measure: a day labourer gets a secret conversation of
his mistress, feeling a danger steals more than he could and her
favourite horse to escape. But during his flight the horse lames and
he falls down.When he see one's way, the mistress with her bunglers
are around him. She says him:"For what you heard I'd got to cut your
ears off, but there's no punishment for what you did to my stallion,
beg I have not got to kill him!" He knew her fairness, but also her severity.
Whimpering and crying he offered her his ears, the stolen
goods, the work of all his life, but she answered:"You want to offend
me! You bringed me three of my more precious things: I reject you!
But thank me 'cause I am going to keep only one of your most precious
things." And while he was restrained by the bunglers, she opened his
pants and with a great hunting knife mutilates his genitals of the
cock.
\- the bridal ritual: in a tropical island is still the costum that
each girl has, in the last year before her bridal day, two suitors.
They will be anyway the men of all her life. She will chose her
husband and her servant, between them, the last plenilune before the
bridal day:macking love with the first and depriving the second of
his virility. The three will live in the same house for the rest
of their life, and if she dies before his husband, the servant has
his revenge turning the other into what he is.Therefore they will
spend all their life to honour her memory. But if also the servant is
dead before,are her brother to provide for husband's emasculation.
For this tribe testicles are god's eggs, therefore sacred. But not
penis!
\- ask you directly!:the birth controll law was evident: if in the
previous year the percentual of not-reproducer had not been reached
by voluntary, all the children who recive the yellow card must be
emasculated between 12 and 15 years of age. Penalty: be emasculated
19 y.o., during the military service (obligatory), with loss of all
the civil rights. When my mother showed me the card (with a lot of
pain in her eyes), I was partially informed, 'cause my best friend's
mother, a primary school teacher, was a cutter.We knew she cutted off
the dick of the pupills, (not only the skin as she said to my friend)
because in our zone was tradition cut the boys 8-10 y.o., an age
forbidden by law. My mother said me that day to wash me well, 'cause
that afternoon we will go to a doctor for an operation.I asked what operation,
sighing she said we could chose: to cut off my dick or my
balls. She preferred my balls, she said, because I used my dick to
piss, instead my balls were useless. I wondered sometimes to myself
which utility they had, but I did not found anyone, I didn't know
sex or reproduction, but I saw our cat; gelded by our gardener to
become fat and dull after this. I would not this, I' d prefered to
piss as a girl! All the journey I whimpered my annoyance, but my
parents didn't retort, thinking I would not be emasculated:
inevitable. So, into the surgey, bored by my nags they said:"Ask you
direcly to the doctor what you want!" Hear me say:"I want my dick cut
off." surprised everybody, 'cause this was not the agreement.Above
all I remember the amazed face of the doctor, accustomed to
recalcitrating teens; however I was satisfied.
\- hero?: a secret agent must infiltrate into a terroristic cell: the
national security is threatened. But all the members of this group
recognized each other for a peculiar sign: they're all dickless!
Danger is imminent: the decision is taken. I offer myself voluntary.
The first act of my training will be a penectomy into a military
hospital; but not a perfect amputation, because the stump must look
like it was cutted with a knife, as that fanatics do. So the skins
are not stitched and I suffer very much, 'till cicatrization;
becoming the laughing-stock for the nurses because of my comical
way of walking.
\- to haggle: I was the minor son of a poor family. Since I was infant
I was educated to go as a servant into a rich family: they said me
I'd be better there then free here. When I was 12y.o. a lady and her
daughter, hearing my reputation of good, smart and obliging child,
went home to know me. They found me perfect, but my mother had to
reveal my only fault (I begged her don't do it, 'cause I was ashamed
of it): I often played with myself. The lady breaked off the
negotiation because guys of my kind grew old intractables. But her
daughter avered; she found me very nice and adjured her mother to
have me as a gift for her imminent birthday. She accepted, but I must
be castrated!If she had to furnish the treatment, my value was the
same, if my parents would chose the way and the cutter she could pay
the bother. For long nights I heard my parents dispute about it, I
couldn't say anything,I asleepd hoping to wake up entire and a
new buyer would come. One day I went home from the kitchen-garden and
found in the kitchen my parents, my brothers, the lady and her
daughter, the preacher (every important decision had to be blessed by
him) and the doctor from the nearest village (there were none here).
I understood, unwilling I screamed: "NO!!!", pissed into my pants and
runaway. My brothers sieged me; firmed me, screaming and crying, to
the kitchen table, where my new owners could see my dick amputation.
I hate nobody, my sacrifice was their survival. I was payed three
times the original price, less the fee for the doctor.
\- calling: in Europe of X century, to avoid the dispersion of the
name and the heritage of a lineage, only the first-born son can
marry. Usually the second-born is started to the clergy, an important
political an cultural ambiance where being represented, and the
others elsewhre to fight for something. The first-born of this name
is not a male, but a girl of strong mind: with her ability she
interns her fourteen brother into a monastery, from wich he escapes
trying to claim his rights of first-born male son. Seeing his
dominion menaced, the parents decide to entrust this weak and foppish
son to an old monk, well-known for his quick conversions. He is an Anthonian,
whose rule says:"To eliminate the fault, eliminate the
cause". He examin the young for a full day, then announce to the
family that he found two serious sins in him: vain and lust. But, if
they consent he will lead him on the right way within two days.
Therefore the day after they start for the hermitage where the saint
lives with few elects. Two snips will be enough to find his
vocation: the first day he losed all his hair, the second something
else. Only at the end of five long years of study and prayers he
decided to complete his nullification, removing his testicles.
I haven't got the tools to turn these rough stones into gems, my
english is not good enough; If someone would do it, I'd be honoured
to read them developed (expecially by PB) or, why not, illustrated.
But, helas! Vaughn Bodč is not here since 25 years. Someone knows
how to find his strips in Europe?
* * * |
Shawn's loss, the accidental castration [S] | `
# Shawn's loss, the accidental castration
By: Kim
([[email protected]](http://web.archive.org/web/20110111182254/mailto:[email protected]))
Post [
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review this story for Archive readers.
[STRAIGHT] [TESTICLES] Other:
A Female, and her friends, have drunken fun torturing their
sub-male's testicles, but accidentally castrate him when they pass
out from drinking, without untying his testicles.
* * *
`
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If you've read my past stories, you know
about the strange relationship I've developed
with Shawn, an 18 year old hottie whom I've
stripped & toyed with several times. Shawn
has become addicted to my games, & follows me
around like a lost puppy these days.
I decided to have a backyard barbecue & invite
my girlfriends, the ones who helped me strip
Shawn the first time.
My back yard has a high fence around it, with a
big ol' gate next to the driveway.
We mixed up a pitcher of vodka and lemonade, and began
to drink. The sun beat upon us, as we drank more,
and more to curb it. Pitcher, after pitcher, appeared,
and disappeared.
"Where's our slave!!, I need to be served", my girlfriend
suddenly blurted out. We all eyed each other knowingly,
and I grabbed the phone and ordered Shawn to come over.
We all put on our bikinis & laid out on the
grass to sunbathe. When Shawn arrived, he just
stood there and stared at us all. We did look
good in our bathing suits, we're all tall &
have golden tans. Shawn was wearing shorts,
t-shirt & sandals.
As soon as he shut the gate we were on him in
an instant. All the girls grabbed him & began
to strip his clothes off. Shawn was startled,
looking around to see if anyone could see us.
My fence is really high though, & no one can
see into the back yard. When he realized this,
Shawn stoped struggling & let us strip him
willingly. He stopped worrying when he saw
how high the gate was. Big mistake!
We stripped him bare naked in an instant, &
the girls pulled him over to a lawn chair,
one of those long ones that recline.
They shoved him down onto the chair & held him
there. He still didn't struggle, he was hoping
for another session with us like before. Then
I pulled a roll of strong duct tape from my
pocket. When Shawn saw the tape, he began to
get nervous.
Anrea, my girlfriend looked at his underwear, and commented,
"Is this a post-cum stain she-boy, did you masturbate today
without Kim's permisssion?"
Shawn weakly protested, then admitted he had masturbated that
morning in the shower.
The girls rolled him onto his back, then I taped his
wrists together, behind his back. He began to
protest, but I quickly slapped a piece of tape
over his mouth, & all he could do was mumble.
Then we rolled him over, and laughed as he tried
to hide his swollen penis by crossing his legs.
"I know", slurred my friend Missy, obviously
feeling the effects of the sun and the vodka,
" let's find something so he can't cross his legs!"
We all broke out laughing, and agreed, and watched
Missy stagger into my garage.
After what seemed like a long time, she emerged,
bleeding from a knock on the forehead, with a
2X4 about two foot long.
She was so drunk, we couldn't understand her next
comments, but we took the 2x4 from her and knew what she
had in mind.
Andrea, my girlfriend, who is very athletic, and bigger
than Shawn, pushed him down and sat on his legs,
holding them open. I took the 2x4, and duct taped his ankles to
each side of it.
Andrea got off of him, and let him try to escape.
It was so funny watching him struggle against
the ties, his exposed cock flopping around as
he tried to get loose! His nice trim body
flexed as he tried to escape the girls, but he
just wasn't strong enough.
When I finished we all stood back to look at
him. Shawn had his wrists tied behind his
back & his ankles tied to either side of a 2x4,
so his legs were spread wide apart. His naked, tanned body
strained against the tape, to no avail. He was mumbling at us
like crazy through the tape over his mouth, and
his cheeks were bright red. Our cute little
naked prisoner!
And then we left him there, tied up naked in the
middle of the yard, & went about like he wasn't
even there. We grilled burgers, danced to the
radio, & rubbed sun-tan oil on each other while
he watched helplessly. He was so pisssed off!
I said to the girls 'Why don't we sunbathe in
the nude?' They all said okay, & we stripped
out of our bathing suits as Shawn watched. Then
we laid down on our towels right in front of
him, rubbing lotion on or exposed tits & pussies!
His eyes looked like they were going to pop from
his head. We really gave him a show, rubbing
oil on each others' boobs, rolling around on
our towels, laying right in front of him with
our legs spread, our naked pussies in clear view.
In no time his cock stood straight up, & we
laughed & pointed at it, making comments about
our helpless little turned-on boy toy. Shawn
was pissed off, turned on & embarrassed all at
the same time!
Then, out of the blue, Missy blurted-out, almost
uniteligiably, "Let's tortue him." Andrea and I didn't
comment, but watched as she again disappeared into the
garage, then reappeared with some nylon rope, about
the width of a pencil.
"Slaveboy, you have been naughty," she wickedly laughed,
"You masturbated without your Master Kim's permisssmion."
"Now learn the consequences, she-boy", she yelled at Shawn,
then we watched as she looped the rope around his balls, did
some
looping, then pulled it tight.
Shawn stood up straight, and his face turned beet red.
"Missy, be careful", I screamed. She only laughed, and pulled
on the rope. We all burst out laughing watching Shawn crab-walk
under the rope. Missy laughed as she yanked hard on the rope,
and Shawn went down.
I sobered up seeing this, and warned Missy not to hurt Shawn.
She
slurred something, then did a shot. She started to make gagging
noises,
like someone about to puke, and ran off to a corner of the
yard.
Andrea and I watched, and laughed, as she puked in the corner,
until
she lay lifeless passed out from sun and vodka.
Feeling sorry for Shawn, I pulled the tape off of his mouth.
"You fucking dyke bitches, fuck you sluts, fuck you cunt-asses,
let me go!!", he chose to say, in his moment of freedom.
It did not last long.
Andrea grabbed the rope, and I watched as she yanked on it,
and Shawn went silent. His balls were now bright red, from
the rope looping them. He fell down, then followed her as she
led him strongly thru the yard.
"Watch", she said, as she passed the rope backwards thru his
legs,
then pulled on it, and he fell flat on his face, screaming.
She pulled
on it, and we laughed furiously, watching him flop on his
stomach like
a dead fish fish.
He was too noisy, so we again duct taped his mouthed. Then we
went inside,
and found a half bottle of Tequile, and did salt and lemon
shots.
Andrea and I finally staggered outside, and there was Shawn
lying bound,
and nude, still with the rope around his balls.
Andrea grabbed it, and pulled him to his feet, then passed out
cold.
I moved in, and saw his balls were turning a light shade of
purple. I
moved closer, and began to try to untie the knot fixed around
his ballsack.
I was so drunk, I could hardly coordinate my fingers, but
tried to use
my fingernails to undo the knot........
I awoke with a terrible haedache. I could barely open my eyes.
My head ached
so bad, I couldn't even focus.
I was naked, and couldn't remember why. I looked around,
trying to focus,
and saw Missy in the far corner of the yard, nude, covered in
her own puke, still
sleeping it off. My eyes roamed, then spied Andrea, laying on
her back, with a
big wet spot in the dirt between her legs.
I laughed, thinking about what I could tell the other girls
about her drunk-out, to
the point she had lost control, and pissed herself.
My head hurt, I tried to shake it off, I felt like I could
puke. Then, I saw Shawn.
The memory of what we did came skyrocketing back, to me, like
an avalanche. I
rememebered torturing him by roping his balls, fully intending
to release him
within a 1/2 hour or so, then I checked my watch, and actually
it was 12 hours.
His balls were a dull shade of purple, almost black. I cut the
rope off of him, and
made him dress. I instructed him to tell the medics he had
fallen asleep masturbating
while experimenting with putting rubber bands around his
testicles,
"for a stronger orgasm". I then let him call 911.
They picked him up and took him to emergency.
I visited Shawn regularily in the Hospital, he lost his balls,
but agreed
it was in his best interest, to become a eunuch to serve his
queen, me!!
Also, I do not have to worry about his masturbation habit,
horniess, or lack of it,
controlling his masturbation habit, or controlling him thru
his erections, he now wishes only to serve Me!!, as his
drive!
He is now balless, and cannot get an erection. Of course this
does not stop me,
Andrea, and Missy forcing him to attempt masturbation, while
we watch, and laugh at
his attempt.
[Return To The Eunuch
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||
No Basball Team | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES | A mother of nine does away with her husband\'s baby-makers. | No Baseball Team
Carlos and Rosita married very young, 17 for him and 15 for her. They were
both illiterate and ignorant. One thing they certainly knew nothing about was
contraception. It became routine, therefore, that there was a baby every year,
for they were both very fertile. After 10 years, they were the parents of nine
children, all boys.
Rosita was weary of both childbearing and child rearing. Sone of her friends
told Rosita that it was not necessary to have a baby every year, that there
were measures that she and/or Carlos could take to avoid further pregnancies.
Rosita broached the subject to Carlos who knew that the Church opposed
contraception and told her so. Furthermore, he explained "I wan' more
cheeldren. I wan' my own béisbol team." That decided Rosita to take matters
into her own hands. She knew where the stuff that makes babies comes from.
Rosita asked one of her friends "Does a man need hees cojones to leeve ?" Her
friend laughed and said "Of course not. You don' have cojones, do you ?" So,
at last, Rosita knew what to do.
She brought her sewing shears to bed with her and waited until Carlos was
snoring. Then, she threw off the sheet over him. Carlos always slept in the
nude and there were his cojones, exposed to unimagined danger. Carlos' bag was
very relaxed and his cojones hung low. Rosita laid his thick pinga on his
belly and took ahold of Carlos' baby-makers .
One quick snip and it was done. Carlos jumped up with a scream stood beside
the bed staring down at himself and at his cojones in Rosita's hand. " Oh,
Rosita, what have you done ?" he cried. "There weel be no more babies" replied
Rosita. "No more babies ? ! No more focking ! I can' make love weethout my
cojones."
Rosita, who enjoyed sex as much as Carlos did, hadn't been aware of that. "Oh,
no, pobrecito." Carlos had been shouting, though now he was sobbing, as was
Rosita, when the neighbors came in and saw what had happened. The police were
called and an ambulance to take Carlos to the hospital.
The policeman arrested Rosita but Carlos refused to testify against her or to
press charges because she hadn't fully understood what she was doing, and
above all because he still loved her. Also, of course, the boys needed their
mother. Carlos was home the next day, sewed up and recuperating
Everyone in the neighborhood knew that Carlos was now a capón and many of the
men, obsessed as they were with machismo, were amused by his sad fate and
viewed him with contempt. For a few weeks, Carlos could still get stiff, but
sex didn't feel right any more and didn't give him much satisfaction. Soon, it
became hard work and no fun, and finally, his pinga refused to respond any
more.
Carlos became very downhearted. He became a listless drudge working to support
his sons and the wife who had ruined him. He hated to go to the cantina
because the machos there tormented him. One of them decided that it would be
fun to beat up the capón.
Weakened by his castration, Carlos was hard put to defend himself. Finally, in
desperation, he brought his knee up as hard as he could between his
tormentor's thighs, bursting his cojones and making them brothers in misery.
Carlos got a stiff fine which he had to borrow money to pay and Jorge got a
year in jail. At least, though, no one taunted Carlos any more.
Never, though, did Carlos hate Rosita for what she had done to him. When he
could no longer use his pinga, he learned to use his finger to satisfy her.
Neither of them was interested in oral sex.
As it turned out, not one of their nine boys cared for béisbol. All of them
preferred futbol [soccer], so the two additional boys whose conception Rosita
had prevented weren't really needed anyhow.
* * * |
Random Acts of Deballing | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES | Young Woman Practices Her Craft | ` She saw him swagger into the bar. She knew his type-tight jeans `
revealing a bulge he thought no woman could resist.The type she loved to
deball- hearing them beg before she sliced off their scrotums with their
precious contents.
Her sweet smile and low cut blouse quickly enticed him and after several
drinks they sat in his car.The bulge in his pants was straining his jeans."i
bet a man like you has a big cock and balls she innocently whispered to him.
her hands began to stroke the fabric now straining with his cock. Thats it
baby he moaned as she opened his pants and quickly cupped his balls in her
hand.Quick as a cat she stabbed the needle into him-his eyes rolled and he was
unconscious within seconds.
She felt her pussy begin to tingle as sheheld his penis up and placed her
gelding knife at the base of his heavy sack.With one quick deft slice a new
eunuch was created. She dropped the trophy into a jar of preserving fluid and
quickly bandaged the new eunuch.
The pleasure she derived from his gelding was matched only by the imagining of
him when he awoke- his balls gone-emasculated- his proud cock soon to be
reduced to a soft limp useless organ.
No longer would he parade his thick hard cock for any woman.
Yes-another gelding for her!
* * * |
Gilly, Chapter 4 | STRAIGHT, PENECTOMY, TESTICLES | A man\'s wife applies a centuries-old technique to control him, with a little help from her friends. | ` `
GILLY
Chapter 4
Janis called Wednesday morning to confirm our date for lunch and munch, and I
spent the next few hours in a fog. All I could think about was meeting Gilly
and listening to her describe how she removed a man's penis. I tried to
imagine all the things she would tell me, but as it turned out, my fantasies
were pretty far off the mark.
I showed up early for our lunch date, and sat in our favorite booth nursing a
drink until Janis arrived. As soon as she sat down, I asked, "Is Gilly here
now? Can I meet her now?" Janis just smiled mischievously, and said, "We'll
see Gilly after lunch. Now just hold your horses and let's eat." I realized
that Janis wanted to be in charge again, and resigned myself to waiting
another hour before meeting the woman I was so interested in questioning.
The meal seemed to take hours, and I had trouble holding up my end of the
conversation. Janis could tell that I was distracted, and tried to get me to
regain focus by asking me how Brad's training was going. I told her that I was
incorporating more of his fantasy about his sister castrating him into our
nightly sessions. I also said that I was now using a shoelace to tie off his
cock to get him to last longer before cumming. She thought that was a good
idea, as it would get him used to the idea of his cock being used for my
pleasure rather than his.
Finally Janis finished the last bite, and drank the last of her drink. Since
it was her turn to pay, she placed a bill on the table to cover the cost of
the meal plus a nice tip. We both stood up, and I could contain my impatience
no more. I asked, "Are we going to meet Gilly somewhere else? Is that where
we're going now?"
Janis smiled again, then said, "Actually, Gilly's in the back room. Are you
ready to go back there and see her now?" I literally ran for the door to the
back room, then stood there waiting until Janis caught up with me. She took a
key out of her purse and unlocked the door, and I thought it was strange that
another woman had been locked in there. I couldn't imagine why such a thing
had been done. Surely Gilly wasn't being held prisoner, was she? Maybe she was
doing something that required privacy, and that was the reason the door had
been locked.
As we walked into the room, I glanced quickly around it looking for Gilly. As
far as I could tell, there was no one else in there, and I turned to Janis and
frowned. She laughed again, then took my hand and led me to a back corner. We
passed the table that I had seen on previous visits, and where I knew Brad
would be tied spreadeagle before much longer. I could almost see him there,
with the ropes around his ankles and wrists, and his pitiful little penis
bobbing in the air, anxious for the knife.
When we reached the back of the room, I again looked around for another woman,
or even a door into another room, but saw nothing other than something about
the size of a large free-standing mirror, but with a pole on each side, both
of which had been securely attached to the floor and ceiling. A cloth had been
placed over whatever was between the poles, completely covering it. Again I
looked questioningly at Janis, by now suspecting that she was playing a
practical joke on me.
To answer my unasked question, she took ahold of the cloth and whisked it
away, saying, "Gwen, meet Gilly. Gilly, meet Gwen."
I was immediately sure that my suspicions about a joke had been true, for what
was standing there was some sort of wooden framework, about two feet wide and
six feet tall. Then my eyes began to record the details of the thing, and
realization began to dawn on me as to the true nature of what I was seeing.
The framework was composed of the two floor-to-ceiling wooden uprights at each
outer edge. They had a groove cut into the inner edge, and when my eye
followed the groove upward, I saw a large piece of metal that was the same
width as the space between the uprights, and was fitted in the grooves. It
appeared to be held in place with a rope tied to a hole in its top edge. What
made me understand its purpose was the bottom edge, though. That part had been
machined to a taper from one side to the other, and had then been ground until
it appeared to be as sharp as a razor.
My eyes then followed the grooves downward, stopping momentarily at wide
leather straps with buckles that had been fastened to the rails about five
feet off the floor, with one on each side. When my eyes arrived at a point
about three feet off the floor, I saw two more leather straps, obviously made
from a large belt that had been cut in two pieces, with one half fastened to
the right rail, and the other to the left rail. The free end of one piece had
the belt buckle on it, and the other end had a series of holes punched in it,
just exactly as a belt would have.
Between the straps was another metal plate. This piece was the same width as
the blade above it, and maybe one foot from top to bottom. It was mounted
securely to the two uprights at each end, and probably served to keep them
straight in order to guide the blade accurately to its intended target.
All doubt as to the nature of that target vanished when I saw the hole in the
center of the plate. I knew then that this truly was "Gilly", and also just
how that name had been given.
I turned to Janis, who was standing there smiling broadly, and asked, "It's a
guillotine, isn't it? That's why you call it Gilly, isn't it?"
She laughed aloud, then said, "You win the prize, dear heart. I know you were
expecting to meet another woman and ask her about cutting off Brad's cock, and
I'm sorry to disappoint you. The look on your face just now was priceless, and
well worth the wait."
I hugged her and kissed her deeply before saying, "I'm not disappointed in the
least. It's wonderful! I love it! I can't imagine a better way to neuter him.
I have just one question though: Isn't the hole pretty big for a man's cock? I
haven't seen very many of the things, for that matter, but that hole is at
least twice as big as Brad's penis. Wouldn't it flop around in there and cause
the blade to miss part of it? I don't want him to have even a stub to play
with."
She hugged me back and said, "Not to worry. If you'll look behind the plate,
you'll see two little pieces of metal shaped like 'L's'. We have all sizes of
reducers here in a box, and when we get one that just barely fits over Brad's
cock, it'll be secured in the brackets behind the hole before you feed his
dick through. That way, his little thing will be held in place and Gilly will
get all of it. The reason that the hole's so big is that some of the women
wanted to do their man's cock and balls at the same time. The larger hole lets
everything be pulled through at once, and then Gilly does the rest."
My brain had reached overload by that time, and I couldn't think of anything
to do other than stand there, visualizing Brad standing there naked. His
monstrously erect cock would be pressed through the hole, and as he begged me
to cut it off him, I'd release the rope and watch the blade rush downward. It
would pass through his dick with no hesitation, severing it cleanly from his
body. I could almost see his thing falling through the air, and then laying on
the floor.
Janis stood close behind me, then reached around and unbuttoned my blouse. She
pulled it open and began pinching my painfully erect nipples, pulling them as
far from my breasts as she could. She nuzzled my neck and whispered to me,
"Imagine Brad standing there naked. You try several of the reducers before
finding one tiny enough to fit his pitiful little pee-pee. You put the reducer
in place, knowing that it'll hold him just right so Gilly gets every last bit
of his pathetic little dickie. You make him put it through the hole, then
order him to push as hard as he can to make sure it's all in." One of her
hands dropped to the waistband of my pantssuit trousers and slowly worked its
way to my dripping wet pussy.
As she frigged me, she continued, "You use a marker to show the place where
Gilly's blade will cut, then tell him to pull out of the hole. When he does,
you wrap a thin wire around his shaft just ahead of the mark, twisting the
ends together so tightly that the wire sinks into his cock. You again order
him to put his wee-wee through the hole, knowing that this will be his last
time to do anything with it. You make him push with all his might to get every
last fraction of an inch through the hole, telling him you don't want him to
have even a hint of a stub left down there."
"When it's through as far as he can get it, you tie a rope just behind the
head, and hand it to the rest of us. We begin pulling as hard as we can,
gaining another fraction of an inch of cock to be removed. You take ahold of
the release rope, then look at him and ask, 'What do you want me to do,
lover?' He's gasping for breath because of the extreme arousal he's feeling,
and is just barely able to say, 'Please cut it off me. It's your's, my
darling. Cut it off.' "
"You don't say anything. You just smile at him and pull the release. The blade
begins to fall toward his waiting penis, seeming to move in slow motion.
Finally it reaches its target and passes through it with no hesitation. The
blade comes to rest at the bottom of its track, and a split second later, his
dick hits the floor and rolls around, still hard as ever because the wire has
trapped the blood in it."
By the time she had described me releasing the blade, I had begun to orgasm.
It went on and on, in wave after wave, seeming to intensify with each word.
When she told of his dick hitting the floor, I screamed with the intensity of
my passion, and thought I was going to pass out. She continued rubbing my slit
until I came back from wherever I'd been, then she pulled her hand out of my
pants. Taking ahold of my shoulders, she turned me to face her, then kissed me
deeply. Finally, we broke the kiss, and she whispered to me, "You've had
yours, now it's my turn. Let's get to your bed as fast as possible."
I straightened my clothes, and then we replaced the cover over Gilly. As she
disappeared from my sight, I whispered to her, "Rest well, my pet. I'll bring
you a little snack just as soon as I can." Janis and I both laughed at that
little joke, and then we left the club and drove to my home, where we spent
the rest of the afternoon frantically making love, then describing to each
other how wonderful it would be when Brad was introduced to Gilly. That always
brought us to a fever-pitch of arousal again, and soon our heads were buried
in each others crotch.
During one of our cooling-off periods, I asked Janis where the club had bought
Gilly. She said, "Actually, it was made for us by the husband of one of our
members. You know Sharon, I'm sure." She looked at me questioningly, and I
nodded my head. Actually, I had been attracted to Sharon as soon as we had
been introduced, and planned to get her in my bed in the near future.
Janis continued, "Her husband is a machinist at a company in Denver. I don't
know quite how it came about, but one night Sharon mentioned to Madeleine that
she had read a story about a machine called a 'penis guillotine', and she
wondered if anyone else had ever heard of such a thing.
It was new to us, although once we heard the term, and thought about how it
would be used, we were all excited by the idea of seeing men's little things
removed by a guillotine. Several of us sat around a table for hours sketching
different designs on napkins and inventing stories about how such a machine
would be used if we had one in the back room.
Sharon finally volunteered her husband to do the actual construction of the
guillotine, saying that he was probably the only man owned by one of the
members who had the skills that would be needed to build it, and also that he
had a well-equipped workshop behind their house. We all thought that was a
fine idea, and agreed that the club treasury would buy whatever materials were
required.
It was probably about a week later that Sharon told us she had ordered her
husband, Sam, to start making the guillotine. She said when she showed our
sketches to him, he made some modifications that would make it more effective
in severing a man's equipment. The reducer plates were his idea, as were the
cuffs and the belt you saw mounted on the rails. Sharon said that Sam became
more excited with each minute they talked about the guillotine, and she was
just hoping that we'd be able to get it down to the club before he used it on
himself.
Janis told me that Sam needed almost two weeks to get all the pieces made. She
told me, "When Sharon announced that he was going to install it the next
Thursday, we all felt a rush of mounting excitement, and talked endlessly
about whose man would be the first 'guest of honor'. I knew there was no way
in Hell that anyone could keep me from getting Ray in the back room again just
as soon as possible. I think the thought of cutting off his penis made me more
aroused than I had ever been when I planned his castration."
"Sharon and Sam worked most of the day in the back room. They kept the door
locked all the time so that no one else could see the guillotine until it was
complete. I didn't have to work that day, so spent nearly all day there, and
some of the other members did also. We'd never before been so excited about a
piece of equipment coming to the back room, but of course the guillotine was
something pretty special."
"Both of them came out of the room for dinner, locking the door behind them.
It was plain to see that Sam had a huge hard-on under his clothes, and that
Sharon's nipples were hard as diamonds. Sharon announced that the project was
complete, and as soon as they had eaten dinner, everyone was invited to the
unveiling if they were interested. I doubt that even a team of wild horses
could have kept us out of there."
"We all hurried through the meal, and I truly don't recall just what it was
that we ate. About all I could think of was taking Ray back there and using
the guillotine to cut it off. I'm sure that everyone else at the table had the
same thoughts about using it on their husbands, because the conversation was
almost non-existent."
"At long last, the meal was finished. We all stood and walked to the door,
then waited impatiently while Sharon made a great show of unlocking it. She
finally opened the door and we filed through, anxious for our first look at
the machine."
"We saw it standing just where it is today, and with the same covering over
it. As soon as we had gathered around, Sharon and Sam stood at the sides, took
ahold of the cover, and then slowly pulled it off. As we stared at it, the
room was quiet enough to hear a pin drop. After several seconds of silence,
Madeleine begin to clap her hands, and soon the rest of us joined in the
applause. Sharon and Sam bowed, and it was obvious that both were pleased at
our approval."
"Sharon then walked over to one wall and reached into a grocery sack that was
setting on the floor. She brought out a package of weiners and held it high
above her head. As soon as we saw that, everyone laughed long and loud. She
opened the package and removed one of the weiners, saying, 'This won't be as
good as the real thing, but it'll give you an idea of how it works'."
"She handed the weiner to Sam and told him to show us how to select the
correct-size reducer and install it in the brackets. He experimented with some
of the different sizes until he finally found one with a hole just slightly
larger than the weiner, and then he slid it in the mounting brackets behind
the hole in the metal plate."
"Sharon told him to hold the weiner in place so she could demonstrate how the
machine worked. He reached out with the thing in his hand and placed it
through the hole, and she said, 'Not like that, silly. Hold it in front of you
and get as close to the hole as you can.' He was momentarily embarrassed and
blushed bright red, but did as she had instructed. He held the weiner in front
of his crotch, then moved as close as he could to the hole."
"When the weiner poked through, several of us gasped. Even though he was
fully-clothed, the sight of this man standing as close as he could get to the
guillotine, holding 'his' weiner in place, was electrifying."
"Sharon took the release rope in her hand, told us to 'watch close, now', and
pulled. The blade made almost no noise at all as it fell through the grooves
and sliced the weiner. As the severed portion fell to the floor, some of us
gasped again, then began to applaud loudly."
"I don't know who was the first to notice that Sam was still standing behind
the guillotine, staring down at what remained of the weiner that he was
holding pressed to his crotch. His erection was straining at his pants and we
could see it throbbing. He dropped the weiner and began to rub his cock
through his clothes, and seemed to be completely unaware there was anyone else
in the room."
"Sharon walked up behind him and pulled his hands away from his crotch,
saying, 'Not just yet sweetie. I want you to stay nice and hard for me.' She
then reached around him and began to unbutton his shirt, and when it at last
opened, she removed it and dropped it to the floor."
"She then stepped back from him and unbuttoned and removed her blouse,
revealing her beautiful breasts and her super-hard nipples. She looked at the
other women, but didn't say anything."
"I think that it was Madeleine who first understood what Sharon wanted us to
do. She began unbuttoning her own blouse and soon dropped it to the floor
beside her. With her example to show the way, the rest of us quickly removed
our own blouses, and those who were wearing bras took them off also. There
were now fourteen breasts for Sam to gaze at, each one displaying nipples in
various degrees of arousal. He must have thought he was in Heaven."
"Sharon then walked around in front of him and knelt down. She untied his
tennis shoes and took them off, then peeled down his socks. When she began to
remove her own shoes and socks, the rest of us imitated her with no urging."
"She next reached up to Sam's waist and unfastened his belt buckle, then
unsnapped his jeans. After pulling down the zipper, she slowly slid the pants
off him, directing him to step out of them. He was obviously in his own little
dream world by then. His eyes were completely glazed over and his mouth was
hanging open. As he stared at all the bare titties around him, he struggled to
breathe. The wet spot on the front of his undershorts was just about the
largest I'd ever seen on a man."
"Sharon stood up, and then unfastened and removed her own trousers. Before
they were even to her knees, the other six of us were hastily shedding our own
pants. Soon there were seven women, and one man, standing there wearing only
their panties and undershorts."
"Sharon very slowly slid down his shorts, and soon they joined the pile on the
floor. His dick was larger than Ray's by a considerable amount, and it
appeared to be rock hard. It was jerking around more wildly than any cock I'd
ever seen, and the amount of pre-cum stringing from it was simply amazing."
"Before Sharon had time to remove her own panties, the rest of us were naked.
Even in his semi-conscious state, Sam's eyes were staring at first one crotch
then another. When his hand started moving toward his cock, Sharon slapped it
away and told him to behave himself. Everyone could tell by the movement of
his hips that he was very close to cumming."
"Sharon stood beside her husband and placed one arm around his shoulders. She
said, 'Ladies, I know you approve of what Sammie has made for us. As his wife,
I'd like to have the honor of naming our new toy. It doesn't seem right to
just call it the machine, or the guillotine. I think we need something more
personal. What do you think of calling her Gilly?'. Our applause signalled our
approval of the name, and that's been the one we've used ever since."
"Sharon then hugged Sam even harder, then said, 'You've seen how it works on
something like a weiner, but of course there's no substitute for the real
thing. How would you like to see something more realistic?' We all applauded
and started saying things like, 'Yes. Show us the real thing. We want to see
how it works for real.' Sharon smiled and laughed at our enthusiasm, then
turned to Sam."
"Sweetie, my friends want to see a live demonstration of how Gilly works. I
know you've wanted to have her eat your little weenie ever since you first saw
the sketches. We've talked about your penectomy for a long time now, and I
think it's time to actually do it. Do you want to feed your worthless little
dingus to Gilly? Please do it for me, honey."
"Sam struggled to speak, needing to clear his throat several times before he
could force out the words we all wanted to hear. In a low, husky whisper he
said, 'Yes. I want to do it'."
"Sharon said forcefully to him, 'That's not good enough, sweetie. You have to
tell me exactly what you want me to do, and say it loud enough that all my
friends can hear."
"He seemed to become slightly more aware then, and his eyes cleared. He looked
at all of us standing there naked, waiting to hear him say that he wanted to
be nullified, then at last said, 'I want to feed my little dick to Gilly. I
want to put it through the hole, then watch you pull the rope. I want to see
the blade cut it off me. Please do it to me. Please'."
"Sharon looked at us to make sure we'd heard what he said. We all nodded, and
some said, 'Do it to him. He wants it.' She then began to lead him toward
Gilly, but stopped when Milly called out to her, saying, 'Wait, Sharon.
There's something that needs to be done to him first, or he'll lose too much
blood."
"I have no idea how she was able to think of such a thing. It must have been
her nurse's training, and all the time she'd spent in surgery, that allowed
her to think of that. I know that the only thought in my head was centered
around getting his cock through the hole and cut off as soon as possible. I'm
sure the others had exactly the same thought, as evidenced by the fact that
they were playing with their tits and frigging themselves almost
continuously."
"Milly walked over to a wall cabinet where the supplies were kept until needed
when a man was castrated. I saw her take a couple of things out of the
cabinet, then walk back and hand them to Sharon. As Sharon took the things, I
could see that one was a short length of wire that was used to tie off a man's
sac before he was castrated, and the other was the pair of pliers that was
used to tighten the wire in place."
"Sharon immediately understood Milly's purpose, and knelt in front of her
husband to tie off his cock. She paused then, and said, 'I think I'd like to
have two more wires, and also that length of clothesline rope that we use to
tie a man to the table for castration'. Milly walked back to the cabinet and
soon returned with the requested items."
"Sharon tied a slipknot in one end of the rope, and then placed it around
Sam's cock, just behind the head. She tightened the knot, then held up the
other end of the rope and asked, 'Would someone help me with this please?' I
was closest, so took the rope in my hand."
"She then asked me to pull it just as hard as I could, saying that his wee-wee
was so small that Gilly wouldn't even be able to taste it if we didn't get it
stretched out as far as it would go. The other women soon lined up behind me,
and we all began pulling the rope. The only effect that had was to pull Sam
toward us."
"Milly and Madeleine walked behind Sam and placed their arms around his waist
to hold him still. Again we tugged on the rope, being rewarded this time with
his groaning and whimpering as his precious little dickie was stretched
farther than he'd ever seen it."
"As we held the thing in place, Sharon again decided that his cock wasn't long
enough to satisfy Gilly's appetite, so she asked me to come help her. I
released my hold on the rope and knelt beside her, and she told me to get a
good grip on his balls and pull them down and back as far as I could."
"I gripped his sac in both hands, squeezing as tightly as I could. When Sharon
ordered him to spread his legs, I began pulling the thing back between them,
trying with all my might to get them beyond his asshole. She was finally
satisfied with my efforts, and placed a wire around his shaft as close to his
body as she could get it. She looped it twice and then twisted the ends
together. The pliers were used to tighten the wire even more, until it finally
sank almost out of sight beneath his flesh."
"As I had gripped and squeezed his balls, Sam began to whimper with the pain I
was giving him. By the time Sharon had finished tightening the wire, and I had
released his sac, he was almost crying. As I knelt there with my face just
inches from his cock, I knew that it was the biggest I'd ever seen. It seemed
to be at least a foot long, but Sharon told me later that she'd measured him
several times, and the longest ever was just barely nine inches. Given the
stretching provided by the rope, and the extra length due to my efforts with
his nuts, it was probably at least ten inches from the wire to the tip of his
cock head."
"As soon as my hands were out of the way, Sharon doubled her fists and brought
them up as hard as she could against his nuts. He cried out with the
incredible pain, and the tears began running from his eyes."
"Sharon again doubled her fists and lowered them even closer to the floor than
before. She looked up at him and said, 'Shut up your damned whining! You're
shaming me in front of my friends! You're the one who wanted us to do this to
you, and now when we just barely get started you start bawling like a baby.
You either act like a man, or you can just get out of her now and I'll never
speak to you again!' That threat was enough to make him stop whining and
crying, and he used his hands to wipe the tears from his eyes. He apologized
to Sharon, which seemed to please her quite a lot. It was obvious that she had
trained him well, and our approval caused her to glow with pride."
"Sharon then returned to getting his cock tied off, and I soon saw what she
had planned for the other two wires. The second wire was wrapped just behind
the head of his cock, as close to the rope as it would go. It too was looped
twice around, then twisted tight with the pliers. That wire also sunk out of
sight into his shaft."
"The third wire was placed in the approximate middle of the shaft, and
fastened identically to the other two. As I watched, his cock shaft seemed to
balloon around the constricting wires, making it look exactly like a string of
sausage links hanging in a butcher shop. I thought that was an apt
description, given the fate that would soon befall his penis."
"Sharon then asked everyone to let go of the rope, and then she loosened the
slipknot and removed it. I was amazed to see that his dick was still bouncing
up and down, although there were no more strings of pre-cum dribbling from the
slit in its head. Milly and Madeleine then released their restraining hold on
him, and he immediately brought his hands to his cock."
"Sharon slapped his hands away, saying sharply, 'That's no longer yours to
touch! It's mine now, and I'll do what I want to with it! Tell me who owns
that cock!' He again struggled to speak, finally saying loud enough for all to
hear, 'You own my cock. It's yours. Do anything you want to it.' Again we
murmured our approval of Sharon's training abilities, and she smiled proudly."
"Sharon then stood in front of her husband, and placed both her hands on his
shoulders. She looked directly at him, then said, 'This is your last chance to
keep your worthless little dick. You can choose to walk out of here with the
thing still hanging on your crotch, and never see me again, or you can walk
over to Gilly and feed it to her.' Without hesitation, he walked to the
guillotine and stood there waiting for whatever was to be done to him."
"Sharon removed the reducer plate that had been used for the weiner, and begin
looking through the others for one that would fit her husband's penis.
Suddenly she gasped, then hugged and kissed Sam as hard as she could. There
were tears in her eyes as she said, 'I love you so much! You thought of
everything, didn't you?' To explain her sudden emotion, she held up the plate
so that we could see it. Etched into the surface, on one face of the thing,
was the single word 'Sam'. He had obviously been planning long before to beg
his wife to feed his cock to Gilly, and had even made a custom-fit reducer for
himself. Our applause and cries of approval made Sharon beam with pride, and
she cried even more."
"We all rushed up to the couple and began hugging and kissing them. It could
easily have become a sex orgy, but Madeleine had the presence of mind to
remind us that the main act of this performance was still to come, and we
should all just step back and let Sharon get on with it."
"Sharon had recovered her composure by that time, and said that she agreed
with Madeleine. She said there was nothing on Heaven and Earth that could stop
her now, and it was time for Gilly's snack. She installed Sam's cock plate in
the brackets, then told him to get his 'useless little dickie in there'. He
stepped forward quickly and guided his cock into the hole, having to struggle
with it due to his extreme state of arousal as well as the swelling induced by
the wires."
"She then took his wrists one at a time and secured them to the rails with the
leather straps and buckles. He was truly held captive by Gilly then, and his
fate was sealed. I could tell by the look on Sharon's face that nothing but
armed intervention would stop what was soon to happen. I knew that my own
arousal, and undoubtedly that of the other women, would not be denied, and
that if anyone attempted to stop her from pulling the release rope, we'd
simply beat them to death."
"As he pressed his body forward as much as possible, I could see the entire
length of his dick protruding from the front of the hole in the metal plate.
Sharon said, 'Not so much for the first demonstration, sweetie. Back up until
just the head is poking through. We'll feed Gilly the rest of it in a little
while.' Sam was so deep into his fantasy by that time that I'm not sure he
even heard her. He was pumping his hips back and forth, trying to 'fuck' the
hole in the plate, and seeming to be semi-conscious."
"Madeleine then walked around the guillotine and took ahold of his hips and
pulled him back several inches. She placed her hand around his shaft to act as
a 'spacer' and keep him from pushing the entire thing through the hole. Sharon
looked closely at the amount of cock sticking out and asked Madeleine to pull
him back just a little bit more. When she was finally satisfied with the
positioning, she placed one hand on the release rope."
"She looked at Sam once more, saying, 'Tell me again what you want me to do.
Beg me to cut the head off your pathetic little pee-pee. Say it now.' It took
him several seconds to understand what she had said, but finally he said,
'Please cut the head off my cock. I don't want it on me anymore. It's
worthless to anyone. Please cut it off.' Sharon looked at the others there,
and when all had nodded their heads in assent, she gave the rope a sharp tug."
"The blade started to move, slowly at first, then picked up speed with every
inch. As it sliced through the head of his dick, it was going almost too fast
to see. By the time I realized that the head was severed, the blade was
already completely below the hole. I heard Sam scream, and then felt my orgasm
starting. It was so strong that it actually hurt, and it went on and on. As it
subsided, I realized that I hadn't even touched myself to make the climax
happen. My arousal was such that just the sight of his dick being beheaded was
enough to cause me to orgasm. As I looked at my companions, I could tell that
at least three of them had also climaxed then."
"The head was laying on the floor at my feet when I looked down. It was just
about the most pitiful looking, shrunken thing I'd ever seen. Just seconds
before it had been a rock-hard, mushroom-shaped, part of his body, and at
least two inches in diameter. Now it was just an empty sack of flesh, barely
an inch in any dimension."
"Sharon leaned over and picked up the severed cock head and held it up for Sam
to see. She said, 'Look what I found on the floor, honey. Isn't that just
about the ugliest thing you've ever seen? It almost makes me sick to think
that you used to stick that inside me. I want you to get rid of it right now.'
She moved it closer to his face, then held it directly in front of his mouth.
I saw his mouth slowly open, and then she placed the thing on his tongue. He
closed his mouth and began to chew, then swallowed several times as he ate the
head of his own cock."
"I heard a cry that was almost a scream, and it was coming from one of the
other women. When I looked to my side, I saw that Sherry had fallen to her
knees, and was obviously orgasming even more strongly than I had just seconds
before. She threw back her head and almost howled with the intensity of her
climax, and it was made even louder when Milly dropped down beside her and
began to pinch and pull her horribly-distended nipples. I was in awe of her
ability to reach such heights, and could tell that some of the others were
almost jealous of her."
"Sherry told me a few days later that the reason her orgasm was so strong was
that she and her husband had a regular fantasy they used to get them both
aroused to a fever pitch. In her fantasy, she would cut off her husband's
cock, then cook it, after which she would force him to eat it. She said the
sight of Sam eating his own cock head had made her fantasy become real for
her, and it gave her the strongest climax she'd ever had. Sherry told me that
she would do everything possible to feed her husband's cock to Gilly, after
which she'd then feed it to him. She said that she'd decided to skip the part
about cooking it, and he could just eat it raw."
"As soon as Sherry had recovered enough to once again stand unassisted, Sharon
used the rope to pull the blade back to its position at the top of the rails.
She reset the release rope, then asked Madeleine to let Sam push the next
section of his cock through the hole."
"Madeleine moved her hand back against his abdomen to allow him to force more
of his shaft through the plate, but that didn't allow it to come through as
far as Sharon wanted. She told Madeleine to try placing just a couple of
fingers on the shaft to act as spacers, and finally they were able to get just
the right position to allow only that portion of the shaft ahead of the middle
wire to be removed."
"Again Sharon placed her hand on the release rope, but this time she didn't
ask Sam to tell her what to do. She simply pulled the rope, and we watched as
the blade again followed the grooves downward. It passed through his cock as
easily as a hot knife through butter, and then slammed against the stop block
at the bottom. Since I wasn't in the throes of an orgasm this time, I was able
to follow the flight of the severed flesh as it fell to the floor."
"It actually bounced off the floor, which was a large circle of plywood that
Sam had installed there, both to serve as a stable anchor for the rails, and
to protect the carpet from the blood that was sure to fall there. Sam had
painted the circle of plywood a brilliant white, and as his shaft came to
rest, I could see the blood draining from it. At first it literally shot from
the severed end, spraying at least six inches from the thing. Soon the flow
was reduced to a trickle, and then the piece of flesh just lay there and
shriveled to a size smaller than my thumb."
"I heard Milly's voice cry out then, and looked toward her. Sherry was
standing behind her, pulling a nipple with one hand and frigging Milly's cunt
with the other. I could see that Milly was forcing her crotch forward against
Sherry's hand, and her knees were sagging with the intensity of her passion.
As we watched, Milly recovered and turned to Sherry and they began kissing.
None of us wanted to miss the rest of the 'demonstration' that Sharon was
giving, so we turned again to the guillotine."
"Sharon once again reset the blade, then asked Madeleine to remove her hand
entirely. As soon as he was freed from her restraint, Sam forced the remainder
of his cock shaft through the plate. Madeleine then brought the two ends of
the belt around his waist and adjusted the buckle to its tightest setting. Sam
was truly held captive by Gilly then, although all of us knew that the belt
certainly wasn't needed to keep his cock through the hole."
"I couldn't see the remaining wire, but was sure it was either in the hole or
just slightly behind it. I knew that when the blade again fell, he would be
totally nullified. The next time he looked at his crotch, the only part of his
genitals remaining would be his testicles."
"Sharon was by that time moving as if in a trance. She stared for several
seconds at the remaining portion of his cock that was protruding from the hole
in the plate. She was speaking softly, almost to herself, and as we noticed
her lips moving, the room became very quiet as we tried to hear what she was
saying."
"As I concentrated, I could tell that she was talking to her husband, telling
him that he still had almost five inches of penis attached to him. She said,
'There is no way in Hell that I'm going to leave you with even that much. I've
wanted for so long to cut that worthless little thing off you, and now I'm
going to feed the last little bit to Gilly. When you see the blade fall this
time, you'll know that you're no longer a man, but just an 'it'. Say goodbye
to that horrible, pathetic, useless little thing that you love so much. Now
feel it get sliced off, and then watch it fall on the floor.' I saw her arm
very slowly begin to pull the release rope, and also saw Sam staring intently
at the same sight. His mouth, which had so recently eaten the head of his own
cock, was again hanging wide open as he gasped for breath. I heard his groans
of passion as his body fought to release his pent-up semen, but could not
because of the remaining wire. It was plain to see that he was literally out
of his head with his arousal."
"At last the rope tightened as far as it could without actually releasing the
blade. When she saw him staring so intently at her hand, Sharon said, 'It's
done', and then gave the slightest of tugs. The blade fell slowly, then gained
momentum. I saw his eyes following its downward path, until it once again
passed through his cock and struck the stop block. The last portion of his
penis arced to the floor, and lay there twitching and draining just as the
other had."
"I knew that Sharon was in need then, and I rushed to her side and shoved my
hand between her clinched legs. I had made love to her many times in the past,
and knew that she had a truly amazing clitoris. Even when she was just barely
aroused, the thing was long enough to stick out of her slit. When she was
truly turned on, it could be seen projecting beyond her pubic hair."
"As I ran my hand between her legs, I felt her clit protruding from her slit
farther than I would have thought possible. It was so large then that I
momentarily thought that she had grown a penis of her own to compensate for
the one her husband had just lost. As soon as the shock passed, I knelt in
front of her and forced her legs even wider. I took her engorged clit into my
mouth and sucked it just as if it were a cock."
"She began to cry out then, and as I looked up I saw that Madeleine and Milly
were standing beside her and pulling her nipples so far from her breasts that
I was afraid they'd simply tear free. As she climaxed, her juices shot from
her pussy as strongly as they ever had from any man's penis. I began to lick
her cum juice and suck her clit by turns, and when her orgasm finally
subsided, I stood and kissed her, sharing the delicious juices with the one
who had produced them."
"The rest of my story is pretty dull compared to what I've already told you.
If you had looked through the door, you'd have seen seven women lying on the
floor, with their hands and mouths busy with whichever breast or pussy was
nearest. I truly believe that I had more orgasms that day than I'd ever had in
even a whole week before then. I simply have no way to guess how many times I
climaxed, but know it was at least six. In short, it was simply the most
exciting thing that had ever happened to me, before or since. Even when I
finally fed Ray's cock to Gilly, it wasn't as arousing as when Sam had been
nullified. It's sad to say, but I'm sure that never again in my life will I be
that excited, that aroused, that turned on, or whatever else anyone chooses to
call it. It was just the best."
Continued in Chapter 5
* * * |
Sales Quota | GAY, WARNING, BI, TESTICLES | Underperforming Salesman gets cut.At Knadsofferson & Associates, LLP you sure don’t want to miss your Sales Quota. | Underperforming Salesman gets cut.
At Knadsofferson & Associates, LLP you sure don’t want to miss your Sales
Quota.
Shit thought Erik, could this day possibly get any worse. Sitting in his in-
box was a rather ominous looking e-mail from old man Knadsofferson himself.
The subject was simply
“Sales Performance Review and Motivational Meeting”
His bad luck had all started last night when he had had a fight with his
girlfriend. Erik had not got his nads off in over a week in anticipation of
their liaison. After they had quarreled she had walked out leaving him high
and dry with a weeks worth of pent up spunk churning away in his nuts. He had
thought about beating off last night but was too drunk to get it hard enough.
And this morning he was hung over and running late. Now as his hang over was
wearing off, he started to get that old familiar tingle between his legs. All
those “swimmers” in his balls were making their presence known, and they could
not be ignored forever.
As a good-looking, dark-haired and blue-eyed 24 year old, Erik Anders was one
of the newer Sales Reps at Knadsofferson & Associates, LLP, and was one of the
3 youngest on the sales team. The other 2 guys his age were Craig Johnston,
clean-cut, short brown hair, brown eyes, about 6 feet even, a rather gangly
fellow, friendly enough when talking sports, but generally did his own thing.
Joe Reynolds was a cute,friendly, curly-haired 23 years old, the newest and
youngest team-member though he did seem to be a real enthusiastic go-getter.
Erik had always found the word “team” to be somewhat ironic. Though
technically his co-workers, the other sales reps were more like his
competitors. As bonuses were based on sales numbers, everyone in the company
was chasing after an increasingly shrinking pool of business. It did not make
for great bonding with the other guys. And he wouldn’t put it past the other
reps to stab him in the back given the chance. He often thought the company
ought to be called Knadsofferson & Assholes, LLP.
Reluctantly Erik opened up the old man’s e-mail;
“Please be advised that the presence of all salesmen will be required in the
large conference room at 5:30 pm. We will be reviewing our Year-End Sales
Quotas and providing a Motivational Experience for the entire sales staff.
Attendance is mandatory.
Sincerely
H.J. Knadsofferson.
President & CEO”
“Motivational Experience”, what the heck did he mean by that? Hell Erik was
surprised the old geezer even knew how to use e-mail. Must be serious though,
if the old man himself was calling the meeting. Hey he knew his sales number
were down, shit everybody’s were. Hadn’t the old skinflint heard there was a
recession out there? “Financial meltdown” were obviously two words that had
never been heard at Knadsofferson’s. And why were they having the meeting
after hours? Shit, it was going to be tough enough to sit through another
endless sales meeting, pretending to pay attention, but Erik knew that by then
he would be suffering an even more serious case of Blue Balls.
Suddenly a very nervous Joe stuck his head over the partition from his cubicle
and said “Hey buddy, did you read the old man’s e-mail”
“Ya, what of it?” replied Erik somewhat testily.
“I heard, the old man’s really pissed about the sales numbers, I heard
someone’s going to get cut”
Shit, thought Erik, the thought of getting cut hadn’t occurred to him. He
suddenly realized that with his lousy sales numbers it could easily be him on
the chopping block.
“Ya well let’s not worry about this now, I’ll talk to you later, I gotta take
a leak”.
And with that Erik abruptly ended the conversation and headed off to the can.
Just as he was walking in he almost ran into Craig on the way out.
“Hey did you hear about the meeting?” said Craig
“Ya, it doesn’t look too good, does it?”
“If they’re gonna cut somebody it’ll probably be, you, me or Joe, or shit
maybe they’ll cut all three of us.”
And on that cheery note Craig went on his way as Erik headed for the urinals.
Standing before the last urinal on the left, he swiftly undid his belt, then
the metal clasp of his suit pants, then the button lower down and finally the
zipper. Erik really hated wearing suits and dress pants. Belt, metal clasp,
button and zipper, just to whip your dick out. Must have been designed by a
woman he thought. He fished his warm, uncut dick out of his bright orange Joe
Boxers, skinned it back and let loose with a sigh of relief. Erik had to admit
he was proud of his junk and loved the feel of his dick in his hand. Soft, his
plump dick was a respectable 4 inches and pushing 8 when hard. His hairy
balls, though not huge were at least on the larger size of average, and he had
been in enough locker rooms to know. He loved strutting through the locker
room after his post work-out shower, airing out the boys and feeling his dick
sway between his thighs. He never understood these shy guys who always covered
themselves up like they were hiding some sort of secret treasure.
He finished pissing, and his dick started to swell slightly as he was shaking
it off. His nuts started to remind him again of their building pressure. Just
as he was considering risking a quick wank, the door loudly slammed open and
in stomped Ian Murphy, senior sales rep, early 40’s, thinning brown hair,
getting a gut and Eriks’ least favorite person in the whole company. And that
was saying a lot.
He and Erik had taken an almost immediate dislike to each other. Erik
considered him a pretentious bastard who was always sucking up to old man
Knadsofferson. Erik often said that he was the “Ass” is Associates. Murphy
considered Erik one of those cocky kids who loved the glamour of the job and
the bonuses when times were good, but just didn’t have the stamina or guts to
tough it our when things got rough. He often felt Erik needed to be taken down
a peg or two.
“Hey buddy, I hear this is where all the pricks hang out” laughed Murphy as he
charged up to the centre urinal, unzipping and whipping it out on the way.
Ya that joke just never gets tired, thought Erik, forcing a smile as he tucked
his still swelling dick away.
“I hear one of you newbies is getting cut today” Murphy said with a gleeful,
smirk.
“Ya well, we’ll see about that” said Erik rather defensively. “Knadsofferson
has to know how tough times have been”
“Well buddy” replied Murphy, smirking again, “its tough times that separate
the men from the boys, my numbers are good, I hear yours’ aren’t so hot”
“Ya, fuck you Murphy”
“We’ll see who’s fucked later, you know if you ain’t got the balls to hack it
in tough times, you don’t belong at Knadsofferson” And with that Murphy zipped
up and walked out without even washing his hands.
“Obnoxious prick, what an asshole” thought Erik, Worse part, as much as he
hated Murphy, he was probably right. At least he took Eriks’ mind off his
churning nuts for awhile.
Finally, after a day that he thought would never end; Erik filed into the
conference room with the other 20 sales reps. Sitting at a table at the back
was the company physician. What the Hell is he doing here, thought Erik. Are
they expecting the old geezer to have a heart attach or something? After about
5 minutes old man Knadsofferson himself walked in and took his place at the
head of the table. God, could that mans’ eyebrows possibly get any bushier
thought Erik as he looked at the wrinkled, ashen face of the company CEO. Erik
could swear that the old man’s eyebrows were bigger everytime he saw him,
which thankfully wasn’t too often. As the old man droned on and on about Lord
knows what, Erik couldn’t help thinking how his eyebrows looked like two fat
hairy caterpillars crawling across his forehead. You’d think the old geezer
would spend some of his millions and get a decent stylist, or at least trim
his ear hairs.
As he sat there for what seemed like forever, his nads started aching again.
They obviously weren’t too interested in what the old man had to say. Erik
just could not concentrate. God he needed to drain his nuts! His dick had been
at half staff for about 15 minutes now and he could feel his balls shifting
around in his Joe Boxers.
“And I would like to congratulate Ian Murphy for being our top sales rep again
this year” droned on Knadsofferson.
At the sound of Murphys’ name Erik snapped back to paying attention.
“And in addition to his regular bonus, I would like to present him with this
engraved silver letter opener as a small token of appreciation”. This
pronouncement from Knadsofferson was followed by polite, unenthusiastic
applause from the rest of the sales reps.
Murphy accepted the gift with his usual fake sincerity and shit-eating grin.
God Erik hated him.
He saw the other newbies, Craig and Joe, sitting around the conference table
and started wondering which of them was going to get cut.
“And as you know gentlemen, not everyone has been able to make their sales
quotas this year”
Shit thought Erik, hear comes the knife.
“We here at Knadsofferson & Associates, LLP, have managed to carry on in these
difficult economic circumstances. Can any of you gentlemen tell me what the
LLP in our name stands for?”
Lots of Limp Pricks, Erik was thinking, but decided to keep his mouth shut.
“Limited Liability Partnership, is what it means gentlemen. And it is not just
part of our name, it is also part of our business philosophy. In these tough
economic times we must always look for ways to limit our liabilities. And
unfortunately sometimes things and staff that were formerly assets become
liabilities”
Erik quickly lost his semi and started to get a sick feeling in his stomach.
“So unfortunately gentlemen, and trust me this was not an easy decision,
someone in this room is going to get cut”
Erik stole a glance at Craig and Joe, they both looked nervous and were
starting to sweat.
“Now I originally thought about cutting more than one, but figured this
example would provide serious motivation for some of you underperformers.
Cutting back on bonuses does not seem to have sufficiently motivated some of
you to try harder, so I will have to implement a more serious cut. Perhaps
when you realize what you really stand to lose here you all will stop making
excuses and meet your sales quotas”
Erik could hardly breathe anymore, would the old geezer just say who was
getting cut and get it over with already.
And finally the old geezer pronounced the dreaded words that Erik had expected
to hear.
“Mr. Erik Anders, I regret to inform you that I will have to have you cut.”
With that Knadsofferson pushed a button on his intercom and two burly security
guards entered the conference room.
Erik stood up and said “Hey, the guards aren’t really necessary, I can empty
out my desk myself” as he turned towards the door.
“Well we’re not quite done with you yet boy” said Knadsofferson as he nodded
to the guards, they quickly seized Erik by the shoulders and pinned his arms
behind him.
“Hey what gives” shouted Erik as he started to struggle.
Murphy stood up and punched Erik as hard as he could, right in his nuts. Erik
gasped and doubled over.
“Mr Knadsofferson said we’re not finished with you yet” sneered Murphy. With
that Murphy undid Eriks’ belt buckle, fiddled around a bit to open the metal
clasp and button and finally dragged down the zipper of Eriks’ pants. The
loose dress pants quickly dropped to Eriks’ ankles. exposing his bright orange
Joe Boxers. Murphy chuckled at the sight, grabbed the waist band and roughly
hauled them down to Erik’s knees. “Hey look at that” laughed Murphy, “You
really do have a set of balls down there, I never would have figured a cocky
little punk like you had real nuts” (Well not for long, thought Murphy to
himself)
Erik recovered his breath just long enough to say “What the…” as Murphy shoved
a large silk hanker chief into his mouth.
With that the guards shoved him backwards onto the table, pinning his
shoulders down. His bare ass squeaked against the tabletop as his balls
flopped down onto the smooth polished wood. His nuts seemed almost surprised
by their sudden exposure and started to retract, back towards Erik’s groin.
Murphy said, “Lets make you a little more comfortable” as he loosened and
removed Erik’s tie. He wrapped the tie around Erik’s nutsac in a loose slip
knot and said “I’m going to need a hand with this knot, Craig, Joe get over
here” The two shocked sales reps came quickly over and stood on either side of
their pinioned comrade. Murphy handed each one an end of the tie. “OK boys,
I’m going to pull on his nuts and work the knot up high on his bag, when I
tell you to pull I want you both to yank on that tie with all you got,
understand?” Both Craig and Joe nodded quickly, their eyes locked on Erik’s
balls. Murphy grabbed Erik’s sweaty, full balls with his left hand and with
his right hand shoved the knot up as high as he could towards Erik’s dick. “OK
guys, PULL!” And with that Craig and Joe pulled as hard as they could on the
tie. Instantly the top of Erik’s scrotum was squeezed down to a quarter of its
usual size, his loose scrotal skin was compressed down as his two sperm tubes
were crushed together. His nuts bulged out as his bag tightened around them.
His churning load of baby batter now hopelessly trapped in his swelling nads.
As two other sales reps helpfully held down Erik’s knees, Mr Knadsofferson
himself handed Murhpy the engraved silver letter opener. “Would you do the
honors please, Mr. Murphy” “With pleasure, Sir” replied Murhpy gleefully. He
pulled a chair up between Erik’s legs, slowly made himself comfortable and
grasped Erik’s bulging nads in his left hand. He fondled them briefly, feeling
their heat and their firmness, God he had wanted to castrate this little prick
since day one. With his right hand he slowly positioned the letter opener
under Erik’s scrotum, just below the tie. Craig and Joe were still pulling on
the tie, their arm muscles straining and foreheads sweating. All eyes in the
room were locked on Erik’s balls. Finally with a deep breath, Murphy pulled
Erik’s balls out hard with his left hand as he tugged his right hand upwards.
Erik struggled violently as he felt the sharp blade dig into his tender bag.
Murphy gave Erik’s nuts a really hard crushing squeeze with his left hand. But
they were not as easy to cut off as Murphy had thought. The first tug of the
blade had barely broken the skin on Erik’s scrotum, the compressed flesh was
proving quite resilient. Murphy had to pause, re-tighten his grip on Erik’s
balls and put a lot more strength into pulling the blade upwards through his
scrotum. With a hard jerk he managed to pull the blade through Erik’s right
sperm tube, the third jerk hacked through his left sperm tube, and finally
with a jerky, sawing motion he hacked through the remaining skin and Erik’s
sweaty hairy scrotum with his two fat balls and their weeks’ worth of jizz
came free into Murphy’s hand. Murphy stood up and to raucous applause, in a
sweeping overhand motion, lobbed Erik’s ball bag into the corner waste basket
where his nuts landed with a loud splat.
Mr Knadsofferson approached and said “Well boy, I really hated to do that, but
this firm just can’t tolerate people who can’t make their sales quota, I trust
this little demonstration has provided suitable motivation for you other
junior sales reps” Both Craig and Joe nodded furiously in agreement. “Doc here
will sew you up and then we’ll send you home in a cab, thank you for you
attendance gentlemen, this concludes our business for this evening.
ONE YEAR LATER…
Memo to all sales representatives of Knadsofferson & Associates LLP:
“Gentlemen, I would like to take this opportunity to thank you all for a job
well done. Over the last year not only have all our Sales Quotas been met,
they have been exceeded by each and everyone one of you. Congratulations, and
keep up the good work!”
Sincerely
H.J. Knadsofferson.
President & CEO”
Comments may be e-mailed to the author at: [email protected]
* * * |
Pink Hackeysack Part 7 | GAY, PENECTOMY, TESTICLES | Jason takes off his mask. | ` {WARNING}`
PINK HACKEYSACK Part 7
Under my hot feet the ice began to melt. I could feel it in the darkness, the
cold slipperiness as my pedestal of death dissolved beneath me. And as it did
the rough noose slowly tightened around my throat. After only an hour the
knotted rope had grown uncomfortably tight. I didn’t dare move for fear of
slipping on the icy puddle and ending my life far too soon. I mindlessly
repeated crazed exhortations of praise to the beauty of Jason’s phallic
masterpiece and the masculine swell of his virgin ass. By the time another
hour had passed I was beginning to choke. Each breath was a rasping death
rattle, drawn with slow deliberation through my narrowing windpipe.
My only regret was that Jason was not here to watch me die, that he didn’t
care enough about his worshipful slave to observe my final agony. I imagined
him stretched out naked on my bed, his hard-on roaring in sleep as he dreamed
of pussy. I was sure I would never see him again. Then, still hours before
dawn, I heard his heavy footsteps on the stairs. He was naked, carrying a load
of pillows and blankets which he deposited on the floor before my ice gallows.
I wondered if he had slept at all; he appeared to be very drunk. Without
saying a word or even looking at me he plopped comfortably on the makeshift
divan he had created and uncapped a whisky bottle, taking a long slow drink.
I was so grateful to him but I couldn’t speak as even breathing required a
concentrated effort. My head felt like it would explode from the hot blood
pounding in my temples and I reckoned I had only minutes to live.
Jason smiled, lifted his muscular leg, farted and said to me, “When I was a
little kid our neighbors got a puppy. They were a couple of old farts without
any kids, so this dog, Shep, would always come over to our yard to play with
me. Everybody thought it was cute the way the mutt – he was part sheep dog,
followed little Jason around. That damned dog really loved me. When I was
little I liked him too, but when I got older he started to get on my nerves.
He grew into a big fucking sloppy mess of a dog. I got to where I couldn’t
fucking stand him but his owners were getting too old to walk him and shit so
my folks always made me do it. ‘Be a good boy and play with Shep. Take him for
a walk.’ The dog started to get old and useless too. Like you. Shep trusted
me. He was a stupid fucker. One day I lured him to the woods with a big piece
of meat” (the young man had started to lazily stroke his own giant meat, as he
spoke, the precious meat he had used to lure me.) “I got him deep in the woods
behind our house and muzzled him, then I staked each of his paws to tent
spikes I had hidden down there beforehand. I had it all planned out. Then I
started torturing him. I was only fifteen then but I had been thinking about
doing it for more than a year. I put out one of his eyes with a stick. Then I
snipped off the end of his dick with a pair of scissors. Shep really squirmed
and both wounds bled pretty bad but I bandaged them up so he wouldn’t pass
out. Then I did what I had been thinking about doing for as long as I could
remember. I set fire to the fur on his back. That really got him shaking- just
like when we set fire to your butt- and the more he shook the more it burned.
It was scary but funny too and exciting. After a minute I smothered the flames
and then I set fire to his head. You should have seen that pathetic fucker.
Now here’s the weird part, the part I never told anybody, even Erich. I had
stripped butt naked so I wouldn’t get any evidence on my clothes, dog hair and
shit. But when I saw that mutt scared shitless and just getting all fucked up
with pain, I got a boner. Like now, looking at you choking in that noose.” (I
had started to struggle now as the dog had, against my will, knowing it would
only hasten my expiration, but unable to help myself. I was terrified, if
Jason had failed to tie my hands I would have surely tried to remove the
choking collar, despite my resolve to die for him. Part of my terror came from
hearing the all-powerful boy’s confession.)“I put out the flames again but it
didn’t matter, the fucked up dog was dying, so I nutted him with my
pocketknife, just like I did you, the same knife in fact, then I spit on my
dick and, you know what? I fucked that stupid dog up the ass while I strangled
him with my bare hands. The only fucking queer thing I ever did in my whole
life but it was the best nut I ever popped.”
“I buried Shep and I don’t think they ever found him. They thought he ran
away. I never did that to another dog. And I never wanted to. But it started
something. I started to think how great it would be to do something like that
to a dude. I jacked off a lot thinking about it, but it always made me feel so
fucking guilty, I just thought it was some kinky thing I’d never be able to
do. Then I met you. That day in the park, it wasn’t an accident that I kicked
that hackeysack in the river. I had my knife with me and from the minute I
kicked you in the nuts I knew that you were my Shep, like my fucking faggot
dog come to life again. I took your nuts as a pledge and I went back to the
park again and again trying to find you. I knew you were thinking of me. Then
I had the idea of posing with your nutsack in the paper. I figured a boy-
crazed queer like you read the sports page, or at least looked at the
pictures. See it wasn’t just a fantasy any more. I didn’t have to kill a man.
I could kill a faggot. You guys need it. I been looking at your fag porno.” He
held up one of my gay magazines he had brought down with him and spread it to
the centerfold, showing me a picture of five good-looking gay models connected
dick to ass in a five man fudgepack. “See what I mean?” I’d like to take my
knife and just go one to the other chopping their dicks off and watching them
get swallowed up in the other fruit’s bitch-hangin’ asshole. Then before I
kill them I’d make each of them eat the hot dog up his butt while the guy I
cut it off of watched. You’re my first, Shep but you aint gonna be my last.”
Then the god boy stood up and went behind me. To my amazement he straddled the
ice behind me and pressed himself into my back. I felt the iron of his hardon
buried between my butt cheeks as his big hands came around to cradle my
sagging breasts and his strong jaw sunk into my shoulder forcing me down,
closing off my air completely. As darkness closed in and my body went limp in
his arms, he began to hump my ass and whispered into my ear, “Goodbye, Shep, I
love you.
With a start I felt the hot blast of his cum shooting up between us coating my
back and his chiseled chest in a smear of pure testosterone. Then he cut the
noose and I tumbled to the floor. He was on me in a second, loosening the
choke collar from my throat and kicking me in the stomach gruffly, angrily
ordering me to breathe. When I finally was able to gulp hot raw gusts of air
he calmed down. He left me there on the floor. As he started up the stairs, he
said, “Get some sleep, Shep, there’s more tomorrow.”
“Jason, god, sir, please let me say one thing.” He paused on his way up. “That
boy Evans, he’s innocent, Royal and those guys forced me to lie about it.”
He laughed, “Oh I know, I know, faggot. They already told me.”
Jason, my god, was a psychopath. I had never even suspected it. My fantasies
had always fed on the unreasoning, stupid hatred certain heterosexuals have
for fags like me. There was no doubt the young athlete was the merciless god
of my darkest fantasies, but I never dreamed that my fantasy stud would be
driven by a deranged sexual need to kill. If I had ever doubted that he would
murder me those thoughts were gone. And he would kill again. My perverted need
for pain and degradation at the hands of straight idols had met its perfect
complement in this monstrous boy. In a very real sense I had unleashed this
monster. I thought of Evans. He would surely be Jason’s victim too. Quietly,
when I was sure he was asleep, I crept to the basement door to find it locked.
He was taking no chances with me now. I couldn’t force it without waking him.
All I could do was rest and hope that somehow I would be given the opportunity
to warn the beautiful pizza boy.
After that night Jason kept me to himself. His friends still came around. They
still had their parties, loud and drunken affairs judging by the mess they
left for me to clean up. But while anyone else was in the house he kept me
bound and gagged in a locked closet. If anyone spent the night, which happened
rarely, I remained out of view, locked away for hours at a time, until he was
alone again and ready to untie me.
I would prepare his dinner while he stretched out naked on the sofa, then when
I had served him, I would kneel at his feet and eat the dog food he had set
out earlier for me. Jason wanted me to be his cook, butler and maid, but when
that was done, he wanted me to be his dog. I could speak in his presence if he
asked me a question, but once I was on my knees at the dog dish I was expected
to keep silent. He would get drunk watching porno movies- he went through all
of my straight movies a hundred times or more lazily stroking his fat dick and
smoking cigarettes, commenting to me about a woman’s breasts, about how he
could tell that she had given birth by the size of her nipples, or laughing
hysterically at the stretch marks around a young whore’s gaping asshole.
Always, though, after he had worked up a good head of steam he started playing
my gay videos and that’s when the evening really began. Jason claimed that it
sickened him to watch guys pork each other’s butt holes, but he kept watching
and his dick stayed hard. One night he let me sit on the floor between his big
legs, my back turned to his manhood as we watched TV together and he started
using my scalp as an ashtray, mashing his cigarettes out on my baldness, never
referring to what he was doing and getting, as expected no comment from me.
Every time he lit another one I grew anxious and excited knowing that in a few
minutes he would put his mark of pain on me again, scarring me in a way that
would show my shame for years, if indeed I had years left rather than days,
hours, minutes, for I never knew when my young god would tire of me finally
and forever as he had the doomed dog Shep.
That night he took my tortured head in his hands and whispered in my ear, “You
know in the movies how they always kill people by twisting their necks until
they crack?” And as he did he turned my head from side to side, slowly at
first, then faster and faster pushing it to the limit, straining my muscles,
“I’d love to do that to that guy right there.” And he pointed to a pretty gay
model getting an assful of stiff video prick from a well-hung black stud and
obviously loving it. When he stopped he said, “You like it when I do that,
don’t you?” Of course I did. I loved every minute of the time we spent alone
together. He kept a baseball bat under the couch and when the butt-fucking gay
boys were really going at it on the screen he said, “Heel” and I knew that I
must present my ass to him. When I was down on all fours, head lowered to the
floor, he began to screw me with the fat aluminum. As he brutally plowed me he
told me that he was going to destroy my faggot cunt so that nothing but a
Clydesdale would be able to take any pleasure from my stretched out hole. Then
he started in again about the queers on the video, how he wanted to fucking
kill them all.
That evening on the sofa ended the way many of our evenings did. Jason leapt
to his feet leaving the bat buried in my ass and turned me over on my back.
The twist of the massive club in my rectum was just another twist in the long
thumbscrew of pain he inflicted on me unceasingly, almost unthinkingly. He
fell on me, his engorged prick landing on the vacant place where mine had
been, his furious mouth seeking my breasts. While he humped me, he tongued my
nipple, his teeth clamped over my aching tit. Then as always, his hands went
to my neck. He choked me until I was blue, shaking me like a bobble-head doll
while his hot orgasm built between us. Every time it happened, we both knew it
could be the last time, as Jason’s self-control and perhaps his sanity slipped
further and further away. But always my life outlasted his adolescent heat and
the attack ended with his huge slick spurt of cum and the giant boy sobbing on
my tits like a baby.
I had come to think of it as our love-making and though he still occasionally
fucked his girlfriend, either alone or in the company of his friends, it was
the one thing I had come to depend on in the days following the party.
I went on like that, locked up all day, tenderly brutalized at night, the days
passing in a timeless haze. I only knew that a week had gone by when Jason
informed me that Dorchester’s wife was being brought over for her scheduled
gangbang. Royal would not be part of that company though. He had been busted
on a parole violation the night he was supposed to cut off Evan’s dick. Jason
sneeringly followed that news with the promise that the parolee’s re-
incarceration didn’t mean that my “boyfriend” was off the hook. He’d see to it
that Golden got the boy’s dick if he had to cut it off himself.
When people came to look at the house (a sign had appeared in the yard) Jason
put me in a locked room with the other things the prospective buyers couldn’t
see. Every few days men arrived at the back of the house with boxes of
electronic equipment. I didn’t have to be told to know they were coming from
Mr. Golden’s warehouse. Jason was working with DeRoi and Emilio who were in
touch with the other two thieves. Golden didn’t know exactly how many items
had been stolen from him and had scheduled an inventory to bring the books up
to date. But that wouldn’t be happening for a week or so. In the meantime he
had had to go out of town for a few days and the blackmailed dock workers were
taking advantage of his absence to grab whatever they could. They believed
that it was Golden himself who had gotten Royal Adams sent back to prison and
they planned to sell everything quickly and use the money to get away from
their malicious boss. In the meantime Jason had agreed to store the items in
an upstairs bedroom for a share of the take. He figured that Golden would
never dream he was playing both sides of the fence. Jason refused to pass up
an opportunity to make money, and so when anyone came to look at the house
that room stayed locked with me and the merchandise inside.
He had already told me that the sale of the house would definitely bring our
affair to an end. He was afraid he was turning into an alcoholic and was close
to being kicked out of school. He needed to get on with his life. He spoke to
me of that coming time as “after your annihilation” or “Once I off you” as in
“After your annihilation, I’ll try to get back on the team” or “Once I off you
I’ll be able to concentrate on school.” He was matter-of-fact about it
expecting that I accepted the inevitable as thoroughly as he. And of course I
did. If the ice gallows incident was any hint of what my long anticipated
death at my young lover’s hands was to be, it would be a fitting end to a life
steeped in dark desires until now nearly always unfulfilled. If I thought
there was any way our idyll could continue for months or years, Jason nightly
torturing and dry-humping me, I might feel some sadness at my demise, but it
could not. This interlude was harder on the boy than it was on me. The sad
confusion in his lovely green eyes when he realized that he had again shot his
seed over a middle-aged faggot’s filthy body, his frustrated need to choke the
life out of me, thwarted again and again, was heartbreaking. And so we both
looked forward.
On Sunday we drove to the woods together ten miles from town to select a
gravesite, which is where he planned to kill me. He explained that by digging
it in advance and by murdering me at the gravesite we would minimize the
chances that any evidence would surface to fuck him up when he began to
proceed with the rest of his own hopefully long life. Like a silly young
housewife I packed him a picnic lunch, beer, chicken and potato salad and once
we had selected a suitably remote location in a thicket sheltered by trees, he
stretched out to enjoy his repast while I stripped naked and dug. It was
important to Jason that I dig it alone so it was nearly dark by the time I
finished. He spent the day listening to rap tunes, smoking pot, drinking and
jacking off while he watched me, naked and sweatdrenched scooping out the hole
where he would finally lay me to rest.
When I finished, I boldly asked him if I could know how he planned to do it.
He laughed. “Can’t you guess? The same way I did Shep. I’m going to put you in
the hole, pour brandy over you and set you on fire. Then I’m going to crawl
down there, fuck you up the ass and strangle you. Yeah that’s right, Shep,
you’re finally going to get what you’ve been drooling over. Not in your mouth
like you want it, but you’ll enjoy it in your cunt too. Don’t you know that’s
why I never fuck you? Cuz if I fucked you,” he laughed, “I’d have to kill
you.”
* * * |
Gesta Davi Cilionis, Teil Zwei: Panthera | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES, rape; the castarion is for medical reasons, but there you go... | Davus darf den Teil seines Berufes ausüben, der ihm am liebsten ist. | [Anmerkung zum 1. Teil: Er heißt "Dir Orgie". Wir entschuldigen uns für die
Nachlässigkeit.]
Im Morgengrauen kamen wir an und brachten Vindus zu Salomo, der nach der
Untersuchung keine guten Nachrichten hatte. Die Hoden waren innerlich ganz
zerstört und hatten schon Wundbrand aufgezogen, also musste Salomo sie sofort
entfernen, damit sich der Brand nicht ausbreitete, und dann musste man die
Götter um Wiederherstellung bitten. Wenn sie die nicht gewährten, wäre Vindus
zwar immer noch ein hübscher keltischer Sklave, aber für die Zucht, für die er
eigentlich vorgesehen war, wäre er verloren gewesen. Ich wollte, ich wäre an
Vindus’ Stelle gewesen. Ich musste aber trotz meiner Müdigkeit meinem Herrn
Lucius Bericht erstatten, den er mit den Worten »Na, das wird aber teuer für
den claudischen Jungen. Deine hundertfünfzigtausend wahrscheinlich nicht, aber
ohne wirklich großzügige Spende an den Tempel des Asklepius von etwa
zwanzigtausend wird es nicht gehen, und das wird er mir ersetzen müssen. Er
wird zahlen, denn er wird nicht wollen, dass sein abartiges Gastmahl an die
Öffentlichkeit kommt. Aber ob ich ihm noch einen einzigen Sklaven vermiete
oder verkaufe, weiß ich noch nicht. Du hast insgesamt richtig gehandelt, mein
Junge. Gut gemacht. Und nun gehe schlafen. Komme nach dem Mittagessen zu mir.«
Ich war entlassen und durfte mich endlich schlafen legen.
Vor einigen Tagen hatte mein Eigentümer Lucius eine nubische Frau um
erstaunlich billigen Preis erworben, die ihrer Wildheit und Schönheit wegen
schon durch verschiedene Hände gegangen war. Ich hatte sie noch nicht gesehen,
denn wir, also ich und meine Mitsklaven, mussten ja die Orgie des Sicilicus
vorbereiten und durchführen. Wie befohlen trat ich nach dem Mittagessen bei
meinem Herrn an.
»Davus, mein Junge!«, sagte Lucius, als ich eingetreten war und mich sittsam
mit im Kreuz zusammen gelegten Händen und geneigtem Kopf vor seinem
Schreibtisch aufgestellt hatte. »Ich habe etwas Besonderes für dich: Die
Nubierin, die wir übrigens Panthera nennen, muss ihre fruchtbaren Tage haben,
oder sie steht kurz davor. Ich möchte, dass du ein Kind mit ihr zeugst.«
»Ja, Herr! – Panthera, Herr?«
»Ja, Davus. Du wirst sehen, warum. Soviel kann ich dir verraten: Wir mussten
sie im Zwinger einsperren wie ein wildes Tier.«
»Oh.«
»Nun gehe und tue dein Bestes: Begatte sie, so oft du kannst. Viel Glück!«
»Ja, Herr! Danke, Herr!«
Ich drehte mich um und ging zu den Zwingern in der Gladiatorenschule, in der
normalerweise renitente Galdiatoren (oder besser: Kandidaten) eingesperrt
werden. Die Schule war zwar nicht so groß und berühmt wie die des Statilius,
aber sie war die bessere. Aber du musst mir das nicht glauben, lieber Leser.
Vielleicht ist das nur der verklärte Blick oder die Lüge eines ergebenen
Sklaven. Auf dem Weg bekam ich Angst, denn vor meinem geistigen Auge tauchten
Vorstellungen einer schwarzen Hünin auf, die besser in die Arena als in ein
Bett gepasst hätte, und ich war unbewaffnet wie alle Sklaven, auch wenn ich
ringen konnte, was ich als Leibesübung hier in der Schule gelernt hatte. Ich
kam vor dem Zwinger an und betrachtete sie. Der Oberaufseher stellte sich
neben mich.
»Na, Davus? Was sagst du?«
Ich fand zuerst keine Worte, denn in dem Zwinger hockte eine schwarze Venus.
Sie war nackt, von einem eisernen Halsring sowie Hand- und Fuß-Fesseln
abgesehen. Hünin war sie keine, doch groß und wohlgestaltet, aber nicht sehr
stark bemuskelt. Ihre Haut war wirklich ganz schwarz. Sie sah also aus, als ob
ein berühmter griechischer Bildhauer sie aus Basalt gehauen und poliert hätte,
und ihr Blick war wirklich der eines gefangenen Panthers. Sie hatte sich ihren
Sklavennamen wirklich verdient. Mein sich aufstellender Penis hob meine knapp
geschnittene Tunika an, die mein Herr zu tragen befohlen hatte, denn er hält
nicht viel von Lendentüchern bei seinen Freudensklaven, außer, um sie noch
anregender erscheinen zu lassen, weswegen ich ja so viele Arten kenne, eines
zu binden.
»Ich soll mit ihr ein Kind zeugen«, sagte ich leise, und der Oberaufseher
antwortete fröhlich: »Gut, ich hole Salomo. Für dich.« Dann ging er davon.
Ich zog mich aus. Ich hatte ohnehin nur die Sandalen und die Tunika an, also
war das schnell erledigt. Panthera sah mich an, und ich sah Mordlust in ihrem
Blick. Trotz meiner Angst blieb mein Penis vor Begierde steif. Ich betrat den
Zwinger. Als die innere Tür offen war, sprang sie mich an, als ob sie sich
frei kämpfen könnte. Ich hielt sie auf und rang sie nieder. Es machte mir
geradezu Freude, ihren Widerstand zu brechen, denn ich hatte ein Ziel, das es
zu erreichen galt. Ich verstand nun die Leute, die nur aus einer
Vergewaltigung Lust ziehen konnten. Sie niederzuringen dauerte überraschend
lange, denn obwohl sie nicht besonders kräftig war, war sie sehr gelenkig und
konnte sich immer wieder meinen Griffen entwinden. Ich musste sie durch den
Zwinger verfolgen, sie also niederhetzen, wie das eine Hundemeute auf der Jagd
tut. Hier zahlte es sich aus, gut geübt zu sein. Sie war irgendwann erschöpft
und brach zusammen. Also konnte ich nun mit ihr machen, was ich wollte.
Ich wollte sie eigentlich bloß nehmen in meiner eigenen Lust, aber ich
entschied mich anders. Wir beide waren verschwitzt, also leckte ich ihr den
Schweiß ab, besonders dort, wo Frauen erregbar sind. Sie war noch wach, also
bekam sie mit, was ich tat. Draußen standen der Oberaufseher, Salomo und mein
Herr. Außerdem versammelten sich langsam Sklaven, um zuzusehen. Sie regte sich
wieder, aber bewegte sich wohlig unter den zärtlichen Berührungen meiner Zunge
und meiner Hände. Ich wandte mich ihrem Geschlecht zu und tat, was ich schon
seit siebzehn Jahren zur Perfektion gelernt hatte: Ich brachte sie mit meiner
Zunge zum Orgasmus. Sie nahm meinen Kopf und presste ihn gegen ihr Geschlecht.
Ich ließ mir das einige Zeit gefallen, wand mich dann aus ihrem Griff und ging
über sie. Mein Penis fuhr in sie, und ich küsste sie. Ich hatte einen schönen,
starken Orgasmus; mein gesamtes Geschlecht pulsierte fast krampfhaft, als ich
mich in sie ergoss. Ich konnte dank meiner Gaben gleich weiter machen, also
tat ich das auch.
Obwohl ich sie streng betrachtet mit Gewalt genommen hatte, empfand sie jetzt
große Lust an mir. Ich blieb den ganzen Nachmittag bei ihr. Wir wälzten uns im
Zwinger herum, wechselten sie Stellungen, und bald war sie auf mir, und ich
hatte die Beine gespreizt und sie ihre geschlossen, als ob ich die Frau wäre
und sie der Mann. Trotzdem war mein Penis in ihrer Scheide. Der Druck auf
meinem Penis, der durch ihre geschlossenen Beine entstanden war, war sehr
erregend. Sie stieß mit ihrem Becken zu, ich mit meinem, und wir streichelten
und küssten einander. Irgendwann waren wir beide vollkommen erschöpft und
schliefen ein.
Am nächsten Morgen stand Essen im Zwinger. Wir fütterten einander. Das war
eigentlich ihre Idee, die mir aber gut gefiel. Wie verbrachten den Tag damit,
die gegenseitige Erforschung der Körper fortzusetzen. Sie nahm sogar meinen
Penis in den Mund, und ich brachte den Mut auf, ihn ihr anzuvertrauen. Sie
dürfte das noch nie zuvor gemacht haben, war aber sehr bemüht und auch
erfolgreich. Als sie bemerkte, dass ich keine Pause nach einem Orgasmus
brauchte, versuchte sie, mich leer zu melken, was ihr aber auch nicht gelingen
konnte. Nach einigen Stunden war der Zwinger überall mit meinem Samen
besudelt, aber das machte nichts. Wir wälzten uns darin, alle Stellungen
durchgehend, die es gibt. Am Schluss brachte ich ihr meine Lieblingsstellung
bei, bei der der Mann am Rücken liegt und die Frau schräg auf ihm liegt, wobei
die Beine miteinander fast verknotet werden. Insgesamt gibt diese Stellung den
Becken beider Beteiligter große Bewegungsfreiheit, was wir nicht ungenutzt
ließen.Wir blieben so stundenlang, bis der Samen aus ihrer Scheide quoll und
über meine Lenden rann. Dann war es Nachmittag, und wir waren wieder müde.
So ging das zehn Tage. Wir achteten nicht darauf, ob es Tag oder Nacht war.
Wenn wir wach waren, verkehrten wir miteinander, und wenn wir müde wurden,
schliefen wir. Wenn uns etwas zu Essen und Trinken in den Käfig gereicht
wurde, aßen und tranken wir. Als feststand, dass ihre Regelblutung ausblieb,
wurden wir aus dem Zwinger geholt. Er wurde gereinigt. Und wir beide wurden
zur Sklavenschwemme geführt, wo ich badete. Man musste Panthera an Händen und
Füßen aufspannen und ihren Kopf mit dem Halsring fixieren, um sie waschen zu
können, denn sie begann wieder zu toben, denn sie verlangte eindeutig nach
mir. Ich wäre gerne bei ihr geblieben, aber noch lieber folgte ich meinem
Herrn, der mich zu sich befohlen hatte.
In seinem Arbeitszimmer präsentierte ich mich sittsam mit verbeugtem Kopf, und
mein Herr sagte nur kurz: »Junge, wir werden dich kastrieren.«
* * * |
Entweiblichung | weibliche Kastration | Biancas Veränderung ist nur zur ihrem eigenen Wohl, da sie sich nun wieder auf die wesentlichen Dinge konzentrieren kann. | Bianca ist 16 Jahre alt und hat für ihr Alter bereits einen großen Busen, den
ich auf etwa 80 C schätzen würde. Als ich vor ein paar Tagen bei ihr zu Besuch
war und ich für kurze Zeit in ihrem Zimmer war, viel mir ein Dildo auf, der
auf ihrem Schrank lag. Nun war mir der Grund für ihre nicht gerade gute
Leistung in der Schule klar; sie masturbiert eindeutig zu viel.
Dem musste ich doch ein Ende setzten und beschloss, sie beschneiden und
kastrieren zu lassen und ihr zusätzlich die Titten abschneiden zu lassen,
damit sie nicht mehr masturbieren kann. Für Nachwuchs kann ja immer noch eine
Adoption sorgen.
Der besondere Tag:
Ich habe im Internet nach Orten gesucht wo Mädchenkastrationen und
Busenentfernungen durchgeführt werden und eine private Adresse gefunden, wo
Männer selbst Hand anlegen dürfen, wenn sie selbst etwas Bestimmtes von sich
opfern. Ich rief die angegebene Telefonnummer an und erfuhr, dass ich als Mann
unter Anleitung die Schamlippen und Busen abschneiden darf, wenn ich selbst
vorher meine Eichel abschneiden lasse.
Busen abschneiden – ein Traum für mich!!! Das ist mir meine Eichel wert
Ich machte einen Termin aus und bekam ein Betäubungsmittel, mit dem ich Bianca
willenlos machen konnte, sie aber alles live miterleben konnte. Ich
verabredete mich mit ihr bei mir zu Hause und mischte ihr das Mittel ins
Getränk, sie merkte nichts. Als die Wirkung anfing, fuhr ich mit ihr zur
Privatwohnung der Ärztin und sagte ihr nur, dass ich eine Überraschung für sie
hätte. Dort angekommen fiel sie im Wohnzimmer für etwa eine Stunde auf Grund
des Mittels in Ohnmacht
In dieser Zeit wurde ich von meiner Eichel befreit (wenn Interesse besteht,
kann ich diesen Teil noch genauer beschreiben)
Bianca wird nun ganz ausgezogen und auf einen gynäkologischen Stuhl gelegt und
festgebunden. Jetzt sah ich sie zum ersten Mal in meinem Leben ganz nackt –
phantastisch.
Plötzlich wacht sie auf und weiß nicht was passiert ist, ist aber wegen dem
Betäubungsmittel ziemlich ruhig. Ich gehe auf sie zu und erkläre ihr, was ihr
nun passieren wird und das es das Beste für sie ist. Sie erkennt die
ausweglose Situation und akzeptiert ihr Schicksal.
Jetzt beginnt die Operation:
Zuerst bekommt sie eine Spritze in ihre Schamlippen und den Kitzler, denn ich
will sie ja nicht vor lauter Schmerzen quälen. Sie zuckt etwas zusammen, als
die Ärztin die Spritze setzt und das Betäubungsmittel spritzt. Nach etwa 5
Minuten sticht sie mit einer Stecknadel in die Schamlippe und den Kitzler und
weil sie nichts mehr spürt, kann nun mit dem Skalpell angefangen werden.
Die Ärztin zieht mit einer speziellen Pinzette den Kitzler ziemlich weit
heraus, so dass sie ihn mit dem Skalpell ganz abschneiden kann. Ein Schnitt
und sie hält den Kitzler in ihrer Hand.
Jetzt nimmt sie zwei Klemmen und kann so die beiden Schamlippen festhalten.
Nun bekomme ich das Skalpell und sie erklärt mir, wie ich die Schamlippen nun
abschneiden darf. Ich schneide einfach an den Klemmen entlang und wenige
Sekunden später halte ich die beiden Schamlippen in meinen Händen. Die Ärztin
kommt mit einem heißen Stab und hält ihn kurz auf die Wunden, um die Blutungen
zu stillen.
Bianca sieht sehr erschrocken aus, als ich ihr die beiden Schamlippen zeige,
die vor kurzen noch an ihrem Körper waren, aber sie weiß dass sie uns nicht
aufhalten kann.
Als nächstes geht es mit der Entfernung der Gebärmutter und den anderen
weiblichen Innereien weiter. Frau Doktor gibt Bianca eine weitere Spritze ins
Rückenmarkt, so dass sie keine Schmerzen mehr spürt, aber bei vollem
Bewusstsein alles miterleben kann. Die Ärztin holt ein längliches Gerät mit
Messern an der Spitze und schiebt es in Biancas Fotze. Als sie in der
Gebärmutter angekommen ist, schaltet sie das Gerät ein und es ist ein leisen
summen zu hören. Sie erklärt mir, dass die rotíerenden Messer die Gebärmutter
samt Eierstöcken vom Körper abschneidet. Nach ein paar Minuten schaltet sie
das Gerät aus und zieht das Gerät wieder heraus. Danach schneidet sie mit dem
Skalpell den Bauch auf und holt die nun abgeschnittene Gebärmutter und die
Eierstöcke heraus. Um die Blutung zu stillen wird auch hier wieder mit heißem
Eisen gearbeitet.
Noch kurz den Bauch zunähen und jetzt ist Bianca kastriert. In ihrem Unterleib
gibt es nun keine weiblichen Organe mehr.
Doch sie ist noch nicht ganz fertig, denn nun müssen auch noch ihre letzten
Organe, die sie zur Frau machen, abgeschnitten werden. Ich bin schon ganz
aufgeregt, denn gleich darf ich ihr die schönen 80 C – Titten abschneiden. Die
Ärztin gibt mir wieder das Skalpell in die Hand und erklärte mir wie ich sie
abschneiden sollte. Mit der linken Hand packe ich ihre rechte Titte und ziehe
sie so weit es nur geht nach oben, und bei dieser Größe geht es ganz schön
weit. Mit der rechten Hand nehme ich das Skalpell und steche es von unten in
die Brust. Ich steche soweit hinein, bis die ganze Klinge drin ist. Nun ziehe
ich das Skalpell mit schneidenden Bewegungen bis zur rechten Seite. Das
gleiche mache ich bis zur linken Seite und dann ist die untere Hälfte der
Titte abgeschnitten. Jetzt kann ich sie nach oben ziehen und den Rest voll
abschneiden.
Dieser Moment ist der schönste in meinem Leben, denn ich halte diese
wunderbare abgeschnittene Titte in meinen eigenen Händen. Nach kurzem genießen
lege ich sie zur Seite und schneide die rechte Titte auf die gleiche Art und
Weiße ab. Währen Frau Doktor wieder die blutenden Wunden versorgt, zeige ich
Bianca ihre beiden abgeschnittenen Titten. Dieser Anblick ist zu viel für sie
und sie wird ohnmächtig.
Die Ärztin versorgt noch die restlichen Wunden, löst sie von ihren Fesseln und
bringt sie in einen Aufwachraum. Als sie etwa 2 Stunden später wieder
aufwacht, glaubt sie an einen schrecklichen Alptraum, aber ihr flacher
Oberkörper nimmt ihr diese Illusion
Fragen, Wünsche, Anregungen bitte an:
[email protected]
* * * |
Das Treppengel‰nder | PENECTOMY, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION, MINOR | A boy loves to slide down the balustrade in the house where he lives, but the janitor doesnít like this at allÖ | Das Treppengel‰nder
Wir lebten in einem Mietshaus ganz oben, meine Mama und ich. Gleich im
Nebenaufgang wohnten Sara und Lara, die Zwillinge aus meiner Klasse, mit denen
ich am liebsten spielte, obwohl mich die anderen Jungs deshalb oft
verspotteten. Ich fand ja M‰dchen eigentlich auch doof, aber Saralara, wie ich
sie nannte, weil sie oft nicht zu unterscheiden waren, waren ganz in Ordnung,
sie spielten sogar Fuþball mit mir oder wir k‰mpften und balgten uns, ohne daþ
sie gleich anfingen zu heulen, wenn es mal zu der derb wurde.
Oft schlief ich auch bei ihnen, wenn Mama Notdienst hatte, sie ist ƒrztin.
Saralaras Mutter kochte jeden Abend und das schmeckte dann meist sogar besser
als zu Hause.
Vor dem Einschlafen erz‰hlten wir uns Gruselgeschichten, ich besonders gern
¸ber unseren fiesen Hausmeister, der mochte n‰mlich keine Kinder und schnauzte
rum, sobald er mich sah. Einmal hatte er uns sogar vom Hof verjagt, wo wir
Verstecken spielten. Besonders w¸tend wurde er, wenn er mich wieder mal
erwischte, wenn ich das Treppengel‰nder runterrutschte. Besonders die letzte
Strecke war am schˆnsten. L‰nger als die anderen und aus poliertem Messing, da
bekam ich so richtig Tempo, muþte aber rechtzeitig mit den H‰nden bremsen,
denn am Ende des Gel‰nders war so eine Kugel. Wenn mein Po gegen die knallte
gab es blaue Flecken und danach ƒrger mit Mama. Der olle Hausmeister hatte
sich ja schon mehrmals bei ihr beschwert, daþ ich ein ganz ungezogener R¸pel
bin. Sie hatte gesagt, achtj‰hrige Jungs sind nun mal so aber sie wird mit mir
ein ernsthaftes Wort reden. Als der Hausmeister gegangen war, streichelte sie
mich hinterher und ich sah an ihren Augen, daþ sie nicht wirklich bˆse auf
mich war.
Einmal veranstalten Saralara und ich sogar ein Wettrutschen. Zehn- oder
zwanzigmal rutschte jeder von uns und unten wurde die Zeit gestoppt, aber wir
waren einfach zu flink, keiner hatte gewonnen. Den beiden M‰dchen schien das
Rutschen genauso viel Spaþ zu machen wie mir, sie quiekten und bekamen ganz
rote Gesichter dabei. Wenn sie unten angekommen waren kniffen sie erst einmal
die Beine zusammen, klar sie hatten ja beide so doofe Rˆckchen an und darunter
nur Schl¸pfer. Bei mir rieb es beim Rutschen ja auch m‰chtig am Schniedel,
besonders im Sommer, wenn ich nur d¸nne Shorts trug, aber ich mochte das.
Durch unser Gelache und Geschrei kam nat¸rlich der Hausmeister zeternd aus
seiner Wohnung und scheuchte uns auf die Straþe.
Wir gingen dann auf den Lehmspielplatz und pampten uns ordentlich ein. Als wir
bei Saralaras Mutter auftauchten ñ Mama hatte wieder einmal Sp‰tschicht ñ
schlug die die H‰nde ¸ber dem Kopf zusammen und schickte uns sofort in die
Wanne.
Schaut mal, gab ich an, wenn ich will kann ich genauso aussehen wie ihr.ì Ich
zog mein Glied fast bis zum Po und ¸berkreuzte die Beine. Nun sah es unterhalb
meines Bauches fast wirklich so aus, wie bei den Zwillingen Die kreischten ÑEr
ist ein M‰dchen!ì und bespritzten mich mit dem Badewasser. Wegen des L‰rms kam
ihre Mutter, sah mich immer noch so stehen und lachte. ÑOhweh, jetzt habe ich
drei davon auf dem Hals, welche Plage!ì Sie bat Sara und Lara, sich neben mich
zu stellen und machte ein Foto von uns dreien. Wir haben sp‰ter noch oft ¸ber
dieses Bild gelacht. Ich hatte zwar nicht ganz so langes Haar wie die
Zwillinge, aber blond war ich auch. Nur wenn man ganz genau hinschaute konnte
man sehen, daþ ich ein Junge bin. Als sie weg war, triumphierte ich: ÑAber das
kˆnnt ihr nichtì ich stellte meine F¸þe nebeneinander und mein Pimmel
schnellte in die Hˆhe
ÑSchau dir mal seinen Schniepel an. Sieht komisch ausì meinte Lara.
Die waren eben doch nur M‰dchen, was sollte an meinem Pimmel komisch aussehen?
ÑNa, die kleine Bommel hier, ì antwortete Lara, Ñunser Cousin hat da so einen
Zipfel.ì ÑAch so, ì sagte ich Ñdas hat Mama wegmachen lassen, als ich noch ein
Baby war ÑDaf¸r kribbelt er jetzt schˆn, wenn ich ihn anfasse.ì Pfft ñ
Kribbeln tut es bei uns auch, wenn wir das wollen.ì Sagte Sara aber beide
dr¸ckten meinen Schniedel. Das tat richtig gut.
Kurz darauf begannen die Sommerferien, aber Mama hatte erst einmal keinen
Urlaub, also vertrieb ich mir die Zeit mit Saralara. Am liebsten fuhren wir
mir unseren R‰dern an den See und badeten. Auch heute morgen klingelten die
Zwillinge und ich beeilte mich, meine Badesachen in den Rucksack zu werfen.
Damit ich schneller unten war, rutschte ich die gesamte Treppe auf dem
Gel‰nder hinab. Ganz unten, auf meiner Messingrennstrecke hˆrte ich, wie meine
Hose riþ und f¸hlte gleichzeitig ein Stechen zwischen den Beinen. Ich setzte
mich und sah die Blutspur, die aus meiner aufgeschlitzten Hose quoll. Danach
kippte ich zur Seite und knallte mit dem Kopf auf die Stufen.
Aufgewacht bin ich im Krankenhaus und Mama hielt mir die Hand. Sie muþte viel
geweint haben, denn ihre Augen waren ganz rot. Ein paar Schl‰uche steckten in
meinem Arm und meiner Nase. Ich f¸hlte mich schwach und hatte eine Windel wie
ein Baby an. Mama streichelte mich und sagte; ÑDer Hausmeister hatte spitze
N‰gel in das Treppengel‰nder geschlagen, aber jetzt sitzt er deswegen im
Gef‰ngnis. AllerdingsÖ Wir haben das beste draus gemachtì. Als ich das erste
Mal auf die Toilette gehen durfte, sah ich, was sie meinte; unterm Bauch sah
ich jetzt faþt aus, wie die beiden M‰dchen.
* * * |
Deadwood | STRAIGHT, WARNING, NULLIFICATION, MINOR | Tommy Pennec's long, long penis had to have gotten its genetic roots from somewhere. Here's a story about his ancestor. | A purple silk sheath covers a domed, 3-foot high cylinder behind the the bar
of the Eights & Aces Saloon and Bordello in Deadwood, the Dakota Territories.
The cylinder, about a foot in diameter, has an ornate, four-legged silver
base. Above it on a board is carved a pun. “Deadwood’s Dead Wood.” Argent
letters inscribed on the silk match the base and proclaim the contents of the
tube with less humor and more fanfare.
See Them Now!
Just 25 cents!
The Magnificent Member
& Titanic Testes
of the Late Great Pugilist
Angus Johansen
And in smaller letters:
Removed from his living body
in this very establishment
by an outraged populace
for the crimes of rape
against two innocents.
September 18, 1885
The Eights has seen better days. So has Deadwood. When the gold ran out, the
populace — outraged or not — followed. Left behind are remnants of its glory
days, including this derelict saloon. The only well-kept item on the inventory
is the cylinder.
The December wind squalls like a bobcat in heat — a frozen bobcat in heat. One
chubby whore dozes through the noise in a rocking chair near the potbellied
stove. At the bar are a horny cowboy who’s new to town and Samson, the swarthy
proprietor of uncertain ethnic origin. The cowboy wants but is reluctant to
wake the snoozing girl. Sleepy whores can be surly. Maybe another drink first.
Tall and rangy, Samson is also sharp-eyed. He spies the cowboy haltingly
reading the legend on the silk and hooks a forearm around the cylinder. It is
heavy. Quietly he sets it on the bar in front of the cowpoke, a short fellow,
or maybe just young, with sandy colored hair and gray eyes. The younger man
rocks back on his bar stool, not quite ready to be confronted with this
mystery. He looks at Samson for a long moment.
“Is it real?”
“Got a quarter?”
“If it ain’t real, I want free beer for the night.”
“Done.”
The quarter passes from one hand to the other. Samson pockets it and reaches
under the bar for a taper, which he lights from an oil lamp. Without removing
the cover, he inserts the taper into the back of the cylinder just under the
dome. There must be an opening the cowboy can’t see. Glowing dots of light
appear through the silk. The dome of the device is apparently perforated in
some manner. Samson secures something at the rear of the cylinder and blows
out the taper.
“You will be amazed, cowboy. I watched a Sioux Indian slice up ol’ Johansen
near 20 years ago while most of the camp stood witness. Nowadays, if I didn’t
have his leftovers to show folks, everybody would think I was outta my hat.”
He whips off the silk with a flourish.
The dome is also polished silver. It’s pierced with small holes for the air
needed to feed three wicks in a clever, shallow oil lamp. The mirror finish of
the dome’s underside reflects the lamplight, powerfully illuminating the glass
tube that comprises the main part of the cylinder. The tube is filled from top
to bottom with a crystal clear liquid. A slightly bent glass rod arcs downward
from one point at the height of the cylinder’s curve to the opposite point at
the bottom.
Impaled through its urethra and held in place on the rod by its own natural
slope is the 19-inch, engorged but amputated penis of a once impossibly well-
hung prize fighter. Two bluish-white blobs much bigger than billiard balls
dangle by their cords from a small crossbar near the base of the Magnificent
Member. Cowboy guesses these are the Titanic Testes.
“That old Sioux medicine man, he knew his stuff. He squeezed all the blood out
of Johansen’s meat and pumped it full to bursting with this solution o’ his,
same as what’s surroundin’ the specimens now,” Samson explains. “Sealed off
the dingus real tight so it looks big as when that cockknocker was pokin’ the
townsladies right up there on that stage.”
“Man’s part can’t be that big,” the cowboy argues, eyes agoggle.
With one finger, Samson taps the glass, which is etched with graduated marks
for each inch of the long, fat dick.
“Near as pink as the day it was struck off.”
The cowboy peers hard at the strongly veined shaft and bulging purple head. If
it’s not real, somewhere there’s a genuine artist of the macabre waiting to be
discovered. But an organ that large would require a truly stalwart champion
from which to hang. The bowlegged little fellow imagines how it would feel to
have Johansen’s johnson protruding from between his legs. A man would swagger
with a package like that. Other men might hate him for it.
“Bet them girls he raped was sore the day after.”
“For a week, more like,” Samson says. “Only thing is — and I don’t tell too
many folks this ’cuz their mama still lives here — them girls weren’t raped.
Not really. Oh, they pretended he was visitin’ horrors on their delicate
flesh, but every manjack in the saloon knew them twins was wantin’ what he
gave ‘em. Hell, he buttfucked one so good she squirted pussy juice halfway to
that table there. Damnedest thing I ever saw. Heard some women could do it,
but I never see’d it until that day and haven’t since.”
“Do tell,” says the cowboy. “That happened right here in this place? Everybody
watchin’?”
“Damn straight,” Samson avers. “You think we’d have let it go on if’n them
girls was really bein’ ravished? You think he’d dun it in front of God and
everone if it was really rape?”
With all the talk of rape and squirting pussies and masculine mutilation, the
chubby whore grows more appealing to the cowboy, but his curiousity is aroused
too.
“What happened then? I mean, from the beginning.”
In his day, Angus “The Giant” Johansen talked the talk and walked the walk of
the world’s greatest heavyweight, Samson explained. Based out of Boston, the
fighter had traveled the world, knocking out opponent after opponent. In
exhibition matches, he often battled two or even three men — and won.
The pugilist was also the greatest cocksman of the Victorian era. He was
celebrated, often publicly among the more vulgar folk, for the size of his
genitals and his skill at using them to please women. A master showman,
Johansen was known to supplement his boxing income by entering stables and
comparing his length and thickness against those of stallions. Anyone who
wanted to watch had to pay a fee.
The real show, of course, was the petite blonde whore with the hourglass
figure who would suck the boxer’s hanging hose to hardness and then
astonishingly jack the horse to the achievement of its own competitive
erection. A truly beautiful girl cheerfully performing such obscenities was as
much a draw as Johansen’s prodigious bone and balls. If the crowd threw enough
coins into the whore’s bodice, the boxer obliged everyone with a full
demonstration of his stamina and her willing perversity.
Once she had been thoroughly fucked in every hole, the hard-nippled little
slut would be thrown over Johansen’s shoulder and carried ’round the stable.
For 50 cents, a man — or boy — could shove a beer bottle into her cunt and
make her moan. The bottles and the giant cock were of a similar diameter, so
she was always ready to receive the brew. Men who were familiar with the ploy
would slip her a half-full bottle because the cold would make her squeal and
the beer would spill out of her gash like a river.
“Girl’s surname was Graham as I recall,” Samson said. “Been awhile. Don’t
remember her first name. Came in on a coach the first day ol’ Johansen was
here. Dressed more like a lady than a whore. She took one look around and left
on the afternoon ride. I wonder if Johansen’s fortunes might have taken a
different turn if she had stayed around. Right gorgeous bitch she was, but
then Angus could always pick ‘em. That was his trouble.”
A gladiator like Johansen draws females like blood draws sharks. Attach to the
gladiator a cock of much renown and the sharks become the daughters of
nobility and the wives of the influential. Angus unwisely didn’t worry about
discretion. His promoters were connected to New York City’s Tammany Hall,
whose Boss Tweed could telegraph orders to the White House. If Angus bragged,
who was going to complain about his conquests of a few titled sluts?
Few complained, but quite a number of cuckolded men attempted to avenge their
honor. In Europe, especially, the great Johansen was usually just one step
ahead of some enraged relative. He had prescience enough to do his
philandering after his bouts in the ring, however. That often saved him from
capture.
“Only a matter of time what happened here,” Samson said. “Angus never had the
sense to keep quiet about who he was doin’. And he was always doin’ the
marquessa of this or the princess of that. Them bluebloods don’t take to
sharin’ their women with a boxer. They don’t care how famous he is.”
“Was,” the cowboy corrects, assuming the removal of the boxer’s manhood had
been fatal. “I’ve never heard of him. How do you know so much?”
“Research, boy. And a lot of folks who knew him have come through here, had a
look, told me some stories. They always figured some railroad baron would do
for him or an English earl. They were surprised to find out it was a whole
town that decided Angus’ dick had gotten too big for his philandering
britches.”
“So what brought Mr. Boston Fisticuffs way out here to the territories?”
The city boy in Angus dreamed of roaming the West. Dime novels about the
exploits of frontier gunmen wore holes in his back pocket. Wild, lusty women
had featured prominently in the dime novels too, and while the fighter was now
old enough to understand the truth that writers stretched, he still held out
hope for a western adventure, especially now that Europe was all but closed to
him as a result of his high class philandering.
Boxing promoters of the day kept a tight rein on their talent. As long as they
were still young enough to earn money, they were too valuable to risk on
“adventures.” But Johansen’s legendary prowess with the ladies earned him
sponsorship from a few highly placed widows and maiden heiresses. Tammany Hall
didn’t have to listen — they were just women, after all — but Tweed passed
along their wishes to the promoters because you never knew where or when you
might need a favor in return. What if the suffragettes really did get the vote
someday?
In May of 1885, the undisputed heavyweight champion of the world climbed
aboard a train headed West. The first leg of the journey took him to
Pittsburgh where one of his sponsors owned a steel mill. There, she had a mold
made of his erection and scrotum so they could be cast — not in steel, but in
silver. The artisans were women, rare in their professions. They received no
money in payment, but it never occurred to them to complain about being
shafted. Angus enjoyed the shafting.
After collecting her trophy, the steel mill heiress returned home along with
much of the champion’s initial entourage. Johansen continued on his way West
with a much reduced group of “friends.”
A widow who had never seen her husband’s stockyards spooned with the boxing
stud in a sleeper car through most of the trip to Chicago. Steers and heifers
were the most numerous bovines at the yards. Breeding stock destined for
western ranches was pastured at picturesque farms outside the Windy City.
Angus was rarely bigger than the bulls, but the old broad said he compared
favorably. “Size isn’t everything,” she told him with a long-toothed grin at
her own wit.
Chicago was as far West as most of the friends wanted to travel. Even Angus’
boxing “manager” abandoned him on the ride to Kansas City. A ravishing young
blonde who had been shadowing the handsome athlete from the outset became his
open companion at this stage of the journey.
Petite and unfashionably slim, Dashiele Graham had been a 16-year-old New York
whore when she met Johansen by way of the concierge at Manhattan’s finest
hotel. The up and cumming young fighter had just knocked out an aging former
champion, toying with him for seven rounds to give the crowd their money’s
worth. He had told the concierge exactly what he wanted to celebrate the
victory, and the concierge had recommended “a little Dash” for the evening.
After one night with the high-breasted girl, Angus used up most of this
winnings to “buy” her away from her pimp. Since then, the soiled dove had
prostituted herself only when it furthered the boxer’s career or dovetailed
with one of their promotions of the Johansen johnson.
She began pimping Angus to the East Coast’s elite ladies within a year of
their meeting. It was only the first arrangement that was difficult. The
beautiful, blue-eyed thing had admitted her profession privately to a New York
socialite in the water closet at the Pompeii, a five-star restuarant Angus
loved to frequent.
“Aren’t you the lovely child. I see you’re sitting with the gorgeous boxer,
dear.”
“Thank you. Yes, we were introduced last year.”
“Do I know your family?”
“No, you wouldn’t. And you wouldn’t admit to knowing them if we were, by
chance, acquainted. I’m that sort. Angus just keeps me on his arm for show.”
“I see. So you haven’t any plans, the two of you?”
“Well, boxers aren’t always particular, you know. But Angus’ people — the
promoters and their bosses at Tammany Hall, you’ve heard of them, I’m sure —
they’re of the impression that Mr. Johansen will be the biggest celebrity that
prize fighting has ever raised from its ranks. He couldn’t possibly be
connected publicly to an unfortunate like myself.”
“You just play the anonymous mistress, and no one asks.”
“Exactly. And I help him where I can.”
“How so?”
“I make introductions. Discreetly.”
“Indeed.”
After that, Dash was pointed out to the high born and the Industrial Age
wealthy by others of their rank. Despite her threatening beauty, she was even
tolerated to a point in Society, so long as she served her purpose as go-
between. Angus did become the celebrated champion, and the not-so-discreet
cocksman. Dash, via her influence over the headstrong hero, became one of the
powers behind the man and his accompaniment in the public stables where their
complementing debauchery knew no limits.
On the train to Lincoln, the conductor fielded several complaints about the
couple. “That woman,” a millener’s wife said, “won’t let anyone sleep with her
squealing and her moaning until all hours. I don’t care that he’s this world’s
best pugilist from Boston. He must quit the driving of her, if you get my
meaning.”
The conductor understood perfectly. He talked with Dash privately for 15
minutes to get her side of the story and left fully satisfied.
After sucking off the trainman, Dash was less than satisfied. Angus’ enormous
penis continued to delight her, and his enthusiasm for her had risen as their
Western adventure continued, but the accomodations had steadily worsened on
the trip westward.
The stagecoach to Yankton was bad enough, but the ride on the lumber wagon
into Deadwood convinced Dash her adventure was at an end. When she saw the
squalor of the mining camp, she was reminded too much of her childhood in New
York’s slums. Nothing would make her submit to that ever again. She begged
Angus to send her back to Kansas City.
“But angel, we’re going to pan for gold, play cards with gunslingers, see wild
Indians! You don’t want to miss that,” her boxer protested.
She gave him a level look. He aborbed its meaning.
“All right, but if I find a pretty daughter of the pioneers, we may just head
West without you.”
“I’m sure you’ll find many pretty daughters ... and rich widows ... and young
wives. But you’ll come back to me, Angus Johansen, because you know you need
my firm hand and my soft body.”
“Well, maybe,” he laughs.
But the Angus Johansen that came back to her wasn’t the man she left in
Deadwood.
In Deadwood, Miss Graham’s thick-dicked boxer samples the hard work of mining,
the easy work of seducing women and the pleasures of saloons, especially the
Eights and Aces, Deadwood’s showpiece establishment for drinking, dining,
gambling and whoring. Angus takes up residence there and strikes up a tender
but by no means exclusive romance with the saloon’s top girl.
Chloe is a petite teenager who’s only been at the Eights for 10 months. Her
father, an Italian-born acrobat, had dragged their family troupe away from a
traveling circus after a dispute with its owner and manager. They were almost
beggars when they arrived in Deadwood to pan for gold, a skill at which they
failed to excel. After two weeks of near-starvation, slim and lithe little
Chloe was presented to Samson in exchange for a stake large enough to get the
rest of the family back to the circus. Chloe’s mother, dark-haired and doe-
eyed like her daughter, attempted to murder her husband with a knife after he
sold the girl to the saloon owner. But the acrobats departed all the same, the
father clutching his ribs as he snapped the reins over the backs of his team
of two sway-backed horses.
Angus finds her beautiful and pays Samson a handsome sum to have her whenever
he wants, which is often but not always. The boxer’s libido needs variety.
Word about Angus Johansen spreads through the mining camp over a night and a
morning. Chicago and Kansas City newspapers carry stories of his in-the-ring
exploits, and a few well-fucked whores carry tales of his genital giantism
downstairs to the bar and thence to rest of populace. Within a few days, a
sort of celebrity fever grips the frontier community. Women of all walks of
life make their way to the Eights to see the mighty stud who, before long, is
pumping the sluttier females unabashedly among the back tables of the saloon.
The more interested patrons watch the cocksman at work. The throng grows when
a pretty or “respectable” female raises her skirts.
Chloe’s breathtaking figure, comely face and contortionist skills make her a
crowd favorite when she mounts the enormous cock of the powerful fighter. She
is fucked most often after performing a striptease on the Eights’ stage where
she does backflips and handstands atop a small teeter-totter. Samson built it
for her when she told him a similar device had been the central prop for her
circus act, which she had performed clothed. Learning to shed her clothes
while balanced on the teeter-totter had been difficult, but the miners’
appreciation had been worth its weight in gold.
The packed crowds in the Eights’ since Angus arrival force Samson to hire
extra men for crowd control. Even church-goers flock to see Johansen, mostly
to see his boxing exhibitions rather than his sexual displays. Still, the Rev.
James Olsen notices absent pews in his church at Wednesday Bible study and
rants about the shame of it on Sunday.
He is the scourge of Deadwood’s whores, having beaten several. Chloe’s nimble
feet have helped her escape him twice. She hates him. Samson cannot take
revenge on a preacher. The backlash would be too great, even in wild Deadwood.
The reverend’s daughters are typical preacher’s daughters — prim on Sunday,
promiscuous every other day of the week. They manage to keep up a proper front
for the righteous fraction of Deadwood’s populace. They are known girls among
the rest of the community.
One evening after Bible study, they become known to Angus Johansen and become
his downfall.
A few hours after the prolonged ravishing of the Olsen twins, Angus lolls in a
chair at his favorite table in the center of the Eights’ main room. A blue,
white-trimmed warmup robe, hood thrown back, covers his nakedness. The greedy
appetite for sex has been sated, but the prize fighter isn’t ready to call it
a night. He’s still bragging about making the two teens beg for mercy — and
then beg for more.
The story may be wearing a bit thin on the panners and hard rock miners who
drink with the celebrity. Normally, Angus would recognize the signs and switch
to a different topic, but they had been so perfect, those two girls, so
smooth, so soft, so ready to discover the joys of getting fucked.
The fighter also fails to mark the number of patrons who have left Samson’s
establishment slowly in twos and threes. Something’s brewing beyond the
Eights’ walls. Johansen doesn’t guess, the way Samson has, but he does hear
the hubbub in the street as the saloon’s clock chimes midnight.
A slender man in a black, broad brimmed hat crashes through the door followed
by a knot of men recently cuckolded by Angus Johansen. Disappeared customers
of the Eights and Aces pour in behind them. The man in the black hat by his
features can only be the father of the twins, the oft-mentioned Right Reverend
Olsen.
The reverend points, oh so dramatically, with a twisted dark wood cane. Angus
knows what he will say within a word or two, something like ...
“Take him!”
The boxer’s chair flies backward. He’s on his feet before it hits the floor.
One of his fellow midnight drinkers extends a startled hand toward the champ.
It’s an innocent gesture, but Angus doesn’t take it as such. He cracks the
man’s ear with his fist, and the miners who might have been allies turn on the
famous tourist. He spins quickly, but a dozen stone-faced men are filing in
from the rear entrance to block his exit.
The boxer begins to pummel the tough populace of Deadwood while he looks for
escape. A fifth man goes down before Angus realizes he won’t get free. With so
many heads broken, he’s used up a good portion of sympathy already, but charm
is the only chance he has left. He throws up his hands and smiles.
“Ho there, friends! Shouldn’t there be someone watchin’ the gate for this
exhibition match? We’re already through the first round, and I don’t even know
who I’m fighting or why or how I’m getting paid. Samson, you need to start
taking up a collection.”
“It’s you who’s going to pay devilspawn,” the Reverend says. “You’re going to
pay with that!”
The dramatic pointing has resumed. This time the preacher is indicating the
famous Johansen johnson, which in the melee has shaken through the opening of
the loosely belted robe. Even flaccid, the swinging pink male part dangles
impossibly far below Angus’ groin.
“Look upon it citizens of Deadwood, high and low. God would not have cursed
any man with such an abomination. Such an unlikely measure of manhood is not
needed for his purposes. This is the Devil’s work. I say there’s a demon
between this creature’s legs, and the only reason it’s here is to corrupt our
women! We must cut it off and cast it out.”
The small circle created by Angus’ fists collapses on him. No blows fall on
the champ, but the arms that wrap him allow none in return. He is borne to the
floor, a technical knock out.
A skinner’s knife rips through the warmup and the tatters are yanked from the
attractive cocksman. Men kneel on his legs, arms and chest. A broad gap is
left for the “demon” organs, rolling huge and unrestrained over his belly,
thighs and groin during the struggle.
“Boys, you don’t know what you’re doin’ here,” Angus shouts. “You don’t really
believe ol’ black hat’s mumbo jumbo, do you? Never heard such nonsense. Never
known good men to cut off a fella’s parts just ’cause he pleasured a couple of
sluts. You all saw, they didn’t bleed, you know they weren’t virgins. And they
came to me! I pushed ‘em away. Frankie, you laughed at the way they came after
me.”
The twisted black stick whirs out of the press, causing a few men to jerk
their heads back. It slams between the jiggling gonads and punishes the root
of the Angus-snake. The Rev. Olsen’s cane puts paid to Angus’ appeal, which
had given some men pause as they recalled the night’s events more clearly.
Angus tries to double up from the pain even as his massive balls caroom off
the walls of their sac. The weight on his limbs won’t allow it. A strangled
cry comes from his throat, and for a moment, he seems ready to puke.
Thankfully, the nausea subsides. He just pants and groans.
The boxer is hauled to his feet, the fight gone out of him. The drooping dong
and slack scrotum are red but not bruised. The preacher did not strike with
his full power.
Samson nods to the Bible thumper. They have a deal. The saloon keeper will
allow Olsen to take his revenge as long as the dismembered masculinity is
delivered to him in a state suitable for profitable display.
The saloon keeper’s macabre scheme for exhibiting Johansen’s freakish
genitalia stemmed from a meeting with a traveling Cajun fellow who lived well
showing a small menagerie of glass-encased human abnormalities. Exotic
animals, stuffed and mounted in attitudes of fierceness supplemented the more
grotesque attractions. The champion cock wouldn’t be a menagerie by itself,
but it and the mighty balls would surely earn a little extra coin for the
Eights.
Samson is already composing the telegram to Chicago where a strange little man
at a medical supply company will build almost anything to show off almost
anything. The Eights will turn a pretty penny from the sideshow attraction
Samson will have made from the champion’s pride and joyjuice makers.
Clem and Calhoun, the two bartenders, roll an enormous wooden barrel from a
back room onto the main parlor’s stage. It’s nearly a third full of the
cheapest beer the Eights sells. The brand is appropriately called Big Barrel
beer. Stood upright, the oaken cask is a foot taller than a heavyweight prize
fighter.
A fiftyish Sioux Indian in buckskin shirt and cavalry breeches pads quietly
into the parlor after the barrel, two long coils of leather rope in his hands.
He’s another part of the deal. Samson has known Kwenimo for years. They were
road agents together back in the days before Samson decided to stop riding the
outlaw trail. Besides traitor to his people, Kwenimo has been called medicine
man and witch. He’ll carve the pugilist proper.
The ropes go around the wrists and ankles of Boston’s best hung stud. They’re
cinched tight behind the barrel. Its bow and curve hold his limbs back and
thrust his groin out for the best exposure to the crowd and easiest access to
the knife.
Still stunned by the impact to his sensitive organs, Angus mumbles incoherent
arguments to the crowd of men, but the mob mentality is taking hold. It will
be nigh impossible to turn a majority back to reason. Angus’ bragging, his
outsider status in Deadwood, and the natural envy of less endowed men weigh
against him. He grimaces as the ropes spread eagle his beautifully muscled
frame. Joints pop.
The Reverend wants to whip the crowd into a frenzy for the unspeakable acts
that are about to take place, but Samson would rather they drink and fondle
his whores while the pretense of justice plays out. His exhortations are more
familiar to his patrons than the preacher’s. Money, pussy and booze flow.
Blood will follow.
The whores have come out of their rooms to see what the excitement’s about.
Bright, sweet Chloe, who invested so much hope in Angus and lavished so much
attention on his too public privates, is the last to emerge, having been
pinned under the ample weight of Hank Marston, a hardware store owner who can
pay the premium price demanded for the young girl’s perfect body. She gasps
when she sees the boxer’s nude form lashed to the barrel. Her clit tingles as
it always does when she’s presented with the sight of his fantastic phallus
and tremendous testicles.
The green silk robe she wears billows as she hurries down the stairs. Eight
inches apiece of sculpted white thigh flash above her black stockings. She
finds her pimp and locks onto his big arm.
“Samson! What are they doing to Angus?” She knows the answer. Instinct
explains there can be only one reason to stretch a man out like that,
especially a man who hangs like Johansen.
Samson just looks at her. He knows she knows.
“But why? Who? And why aren’t you stopping them? He brings good business to
the Eights.”
“Don’t make a fuss, girl. He’s going to keep bringin’ in business. ’Sides,
this had to happen sooner or later. If it wasn’t the Reverend getting his
pride back for Angus turning the twins into sluts, it’d be some other fella
the boxer shamed. Surprised he’s kept his ‘heavyweights’ this long. Ain’t
you?”
“Samson! No. I’ve never heard of this bein’ done to anybody ’cept some Sioux
got caught out alone and drug into camp. Angus is a white man. And that
Kwenimo, what’s he doing? Isn’t he your friend?”
The Indian has rolled out a small trade blanket and begun unpacking a woven
basket as if for a picnic. Sharp tools are nested with clay jars of unguents
and powders. Needles and wire are partnered with candles and feathers. The
centerpiece is a large, clear bowl filled with something like water, but
Chloe’s nose tells her that’s not what it is.
Angus gazes on the preparations stupidly. Maybe one of those miners did get in
a stunning punch when they took him down. Kwenimo isn’t waiting for the
fighter to figure it out. While the crowd drags chairs closer to the stage,
the old Sioux pours a yellow powder into a goblet of milky fluid. He shakes it
vigorously with his hand over the open neck, then carries it to the woozy
boxer.
Pressing it to Angus’ lips only earns him curses. Clem slaps a beefy hand to
the condemned man’s forehead, pinning his skull to the barrel staves. Kwenimo
forces the jaw open and pours the liquid into Angus’ mouth. The champ sputters
and chokes but eventually swallows a good amount of the mixture.
From the front of the Eights a murmur begins. The crowd swirls around a small
group of blonde heads. The Reverend has sent his eldest son to bring his
daughters so they can witness the elimination of their lover’s manhood. Never
a stable apostle of the Lord, old Olsen went half mad when his son told him
the depraved fashion in which his beautiful twins gave up their virtue. The
camp will speak of them as sluts unless the sordid event can be cast in a new
light. A bold-faced lie will be erected in place of Angus’ everready bone.
Despite the truth, despite dozens of witnesses to the contrary, Deadwood will
come to accept as Gospel that the Olsen twins were raped.
Properly clothed once more, the twins take their seats in the front row of
rough saloon chairs not 10 feet from the spot where the fighter had them
squealing with pleasure a few hours ago. When they sit, the boxer’s drooping
penis begins to rise as if on cue.
A wave of laughter, much to the girls’ embarassment, rolls around the Eights’
until papa Olsen’s cane smacks the floor. The crowd quiets but not too
readily. This is, after all, Deadwood, where there are more saloons than
churches, more brothels than schools. The crowd is a curious mix of Olsen’s
true believers, jealous husbands, whores and a majority of the just plain
curious.
The laughter ended, the twins’ eyes attach to Angus’ growing hardon. They’ve
seen it before, but the process is no less fascinating a second time around.
For those who are first-time viewers, the reaction is, as always, disbelief.
From completely soft and shrunken at 10 and a half inches, the mammoth trunk
stretches lower, still limp looking, to 12 inches. The shaft thickens, the
glans swells, and at 14 inches the bloating meat begins to lift away from the
support of the cradling balls, although the head still points at the floor. At
16 long inches, the phallus straightens to aim at Kwenimo’s ankles a few feet
away. For 17, it rises parallel with the floor. Passing 18 inches, the
trademark shallow curve locks into place. Nineteen hardwood inches reach full
erection at 45 degrees above the horizontal.
No penis so large has ever existed in all of recorded history. There’s not a
scholar among them, but the Deadwooders knows it’s true without anyone making
the claim.
“Oh, yummy! Blood sausage!” a whore calls out. “Make it stay like that, Kwen,
when you cut him. I’ll keep it for a dildo.” Rough laughter.
Enough men amongst the audience have used the medicine man’s potion to correct
the amusing assumption that the twins are responsible for rousing Johansen.
Maybe standing in cold creeks all day makes impotence an occupational hazard
among the panners for gold. The problem is not uncommon, it seems. Deadwood is
indeed an odd place.
Silence now settles over the onlookers. The torturer — that’s what he is,
everyone realizes — approaches his victim.
Kwenimo’s knife is small and gleaming. He holds it in just two fingers and a
thumb as Angus alternately threatens Tammany Hall’s wrath and pleads for
mercy. The men of the camp are used to such protestations, having seen
hangings and shootings on a regular basis in the Badlands. They fix their
attention on the Sioux’s steel and Johansen’s wood rather than his words. A
few of the whores are hard-eyed too, but softer expressions show on a few
faces. Surprisingly, the twins are anxious, maybe horrified at what’s about to
happen.
The draught of whatever it was that Kwenimo poured down poor Johansen’s throat
has the boxer throbbing hard. The enormous ripe plum head of his organ jerks
emphatically with each beat of his terrified heart. Angus himself feels the
penis straining to burst its incredible limits. He’s never been so stiff. He
suspects the thundering erection was caused by the drink, but he doesn’t
understand why, if he’s going to be mutilated, his detractors are going to so
much trouble.
“Just stop old fella, OK?” he whispers to Kwenimo.
For answer, the Indian smiles and lays the knife edge against Angus’ scrotum
just below his pulsing pud. He flattens the wrinkled skin and draws the blade
in a quick motion. His victim screams when a two-inch section of bag droops
under the gaping cut. Kwenimo holds the massive pouch to one side and cuts
again. Again the bag sags. Angus continues yelling, pain and fright etched
into his features. Someone stuffs a barely adequate gag into his mouth. The
noise is muffled but uninterrupted.
The big nutsack, now bleeding freely, is hauled up and forward against the
penis so the Indian can slice at the back, surely, smoothly. The knife is
cutting cleanly through the skin and membranes cradling the huge cojones. One
of the two spermatic cords becomes visible to much of the crowd. The dark,
bloody maw grows until one final cut joins the circle of severed flesh. Last
to be severed is the membrane that halves the sac, dividing the testicles. The
scrotum has been sliced through. By design, the gonads are still connected and
whole.
The bag won’t come off without help, however. A little tug on the scrotum
opens a one-inch gap. The nut cords stand out in the lamplight. Angus’ eyes
are wide and disbelieving above the gag. Don’t they know who he is? Don’t they
know how he’s worshipped for his prowess in the ring and for the record
measure of his cock and balls? How can they do this to him?
His chest is heaving. Kwenimo meets his stare, puts down the knife and pinches
the skin of the scrotum below each testicle. He drags the sac slowly downward,
meeting resistance at first as the cords tighten and lengthen. When the tops
of the giant balls come into view, the sack slides more easily. As the bluish-
white orbs are half exposed, the bag drools off by itself and flops, open end
downward, to hang from the Indian’s fingers. Blood drips.
Angus feels open air on his balls for the first time. The nude sperm makers
bump, moved minutely with each beat of blood maintaining the hard-on above.
The cords that hold them to their erstwhile owner stretch down nearly six
inches when Kwenimo gives the testicles an absent-minded pull. They spring up
again once released. Heavy hangers indeed. The running commentary of the
saloon patrons compares them to apples, which are too big, to plums, which are
too small, and to large apricots, which are just right.
One whore is rubbing her slit through her bloomers. Another pushes her kitty
hard against the fist of a bullwhacker who visits her every two weeks on the
turnaround from Rapid City. A chair leg scrapes the wooden floor loudly when a
storekeeper scoots for a better view of the emasculation. The men beside him
glare at the breach of etiquette. Distractions are not well tolerated during
Badlands entertainment.
A greasy concoction is smeared on Angus’ circular wound. The blood stops. The
empty scrotum is submerged in Kwenimo’s big glass bowl. He fills the bag
several times with the liquid and empties it until the contents pour out
clear. Each time it is filled, the elastic pouch distends to such dimensions
that the crowd oohs and ahhs. It might hold a dozen of Johansen’s apricot
fruit if its two chambers were ever packed tight. Expanded to its thinnest
measure, the liquid loaded scrotum glows orange when a lamp is placed behind
it. The tracery of veins it displays is ghastly.
The Sioux scoops Angus’ bag full once more for the onlookers to marvel at,
then lets it float. The eyes of the man who will soon be castrated cycle
rapidly from the floating nut pouch to his raw balls and back again. Lashly
looks on, clearly sympathetic, as the tortured man’s tortured mind wrestles
with the concept of being slowly gelded.
Something new has caught his tormentor’s attention. Kwenimo bends closer to
the scrotal wound, parts the bobbling nuts with his hand and probes
tentatively at the groin. His calloused digits wiggle briefly then thrust
upward into the raw flesh near the back of the cut. The boxer whips his skull
forward and back. The rooting around can’t be pleasant, but that’s just what
Kwenimo is seeking — the root of the “demonic” prick. He shows the crowd a
gap-toothed smile when he seizes it, although few understand what he’s latched
onto — until the Indian pulls downward, levering the mighty cock as on a
fulcrum to smack against the broad chest.
“Ahhhhhh,” the crowd says in one voice.
For fun, Kwenimo works the root like the handle of a wagon jack, slapping
Angus’ torso several times with the boxer’s own rigid meat. The enormous penis
appears to wave itself about like an animated sword. The stripped testicles
bounce off the Sioux’s agitating fist and his victim’s thighs.
The more debased among the watchers whistle and stomp at the trick, oblivious
to the agony it causes the helpless stud. The world’s most celebrated male
organ doesn’t return to its former upward angle after this humiliation. The
tight ligaments and strong muscles holding it up have been loosened. Still, it
lances higher than horizontal. Johansen’s pride has a long way to go before it
can be counted destroyed. Its tumescence hasn’t slackened.
The Indian picks up his knife and smiles once more at the boxer whose muscles
are bulging on par with his outsized penis. Angus shakes his head wildly as
the blade lights on the underside of the twitching manhood. A very shallow cut
circles the shaft two-thirds of the way down from the shooting end. Four
inches closer to the thick base, the knife encompasses the manflesh again. A
lengthwise cut slides along the line of the urethra without damaging the big
cum carrying vessel. It links the two circular incisions. Angus and his
audience now conceive what the Sioux is about to do to the four-inch section
of penis.
Kwenimo loosens the skin with the tip of the knife on one side of the piss
tube. When he can grasp it with his gnarled old fingers, he peels the near
translucent layer of cock hide slowly higher, stopping at the halfway point to
adjust his grip. Even some of the hardened miners are sickened by this. Angus
screams through the gag nearly as loudly as before. When the rectangle of skin
is torn free, it too floats in the bowl.
“Nuthin’ less than what the horn of the Devil deserves for what he done, an’
you all know it,” the Rev. Olsen says to the faint of heart. “Some of you are
lucky you ain’t up there with him for standing by while he took his liberties
with my girls. This is their due.”
Nods of agreement are sparse but no one argues against the reverend’s barbaric
method of extracting “justice” for his wanton twins.
More layers of skin and tissue are removed carefully from the 4-inch section
and dropped into the bowl until finally the urethra and the two thick
cylinders of the corpora cavernosa are boldly on display. Amazingly, the
surface network of veins and arteries remains intact. Kwenimo has skillfully
assured that the gargantuan tool will not fall from its turgid state. What new
blood has flowed is again stopped with the grease. The partially dissected
penis continues to pulse and twitch as though it hasn’t been mutilated.
A few words in Sioux pass from Kwenimo to Samson who motions little Chloe
forward. The pretty young whore is ordered to strip. Samson cuffs her when she
hesitates. She disrobes quickly then. Her taut nipples cause comment among the
crowd and prompt a few catcalls. For the most part, the room is silent. The
girl is shoved toward Kwenimo who grabs her by the wrist and makes her kneel
in front of the abused boxer. Her fear is plain.
Chloe’s unresisting hand is guided toward the flayed section of the awesome
dick. She closes her eyes as the Indian inserts her index finger behind the
urethra and hooks it around the tube. The thick white vessel bows in her grip
as Kwenimo draws her finger up and down, freeing the four inches of
unprotected piss pipe from its tenuous connection to the cavernosa. At the
extreme end of the tube, the glans seems to nod, its opening yanked inward by
the pulling. Chloe sobs, nipples jutting incongruously. The violence done to
the supremely beautiful organs of her lover both horrifies and excites her.
Samson feigns calm despite his worry over damage to the trophy pole. This is
all part of the plan.
The saloonkeeper saw the writing on the wall when the boxer’s spit-polished
knob still oozed semen from the final load called forth by the Olsen twins. He
knew the mad Reverend would never let this affront stand. The pugilist playboy
would be castrated at the least. At worst for the fighter, at best for Samson,
the whole package would be removed. For Samson to profit from the parson’s
revenge, a full neutering had to be assured.
He had dispatched Clem to find Kwenimo. In Samson’s tiny office, the Indian
had promised that his knife would provide a lengthy entertainment without
harming the massive genitals beyond the repairs a good taxidermist could
effect. The old Sioux was a skilled hand at taxidermy himself, he noted.
Samson had smiled an evil outlaw smile.
An exchange of words between saloonkeeper and Indian are translated to
trembling Chloe. She shakes her head and is struck again. Obligingly, she
opens her eyes, seizes the undamaged section of penis in one hand, and with
the other pushes two slim fingers between the hard, tightly joined cavernosa
where their fragile covering has been ripped away. She wiggles the tips as
they appear on the dorsal side. The naked balls jiggle with the vibrations.
Angus’ face has turned the same shade of purple as his cockhead from the agony
of the live dissection and the pyschological impact of seeing his proud pole
skinned and split.
For sure though, it’s a crowd pleaser. The fact that the organ is remaining
bone hard and throbbing throughout amazes everyone except Kwenimo, who knows
the power of his potion. The fact that a penis is not one inflatable tube but
two side by side (actually three if you count the erectile tissue around the
urethra that doesn’t become as intensely hard as the others), amazes the
mostly ignorant miners as well. They’re eager for more revelations.
“Move those fingers like you’re jackin’ him,” Samson says. “While you suck.”
Chloe knows better than to balk a third time. Her fingers move haltingly
between the once inseperable barrels of bull meat, The urethra is pushed to
one side. The mouth that provides the 16-year-old with such a wide smile opens
to swallow the engorged glans and a few inches of cock behind it. Amazingly,
the tenor of Angus’ muffled vocalizations changes. He thrusts toward the
petite prostitute as far as the ropes will allow. The crowd laughs and
applauds the cocksman’s unflagging desire for a hot mouth on his fantastic
member. Maybe it’s the Indian’s drug driving his lust, but who cares?
Soon, Chloe has all four fingers between the cavernosa of the cock. She is
able to close her fist around the right half of the double-barreled splatter
gun. The single cavernosum, as thick as a whole penis on any other man, fits
comfortably in her grip.
Emotions skitter helter-skelter through Chloe’s mind. Fresh tears come every
time she thinks about the cruelty of the preacher, Samson, the Indian and all
of Deadwood. How can they do this to a kind and generous man just because his
meat is bigger than theirs? That’s what it is, she realizes. They hate him
because women love him and because his wonderful cock and balls put theirs to
shame.
At the same time, Chloe feels guilty. She’s so wet and her tits are pointing
so hard. How many women can say they’ve put their hand _through_ a man’s
boner? Or sucked him just before he was castrated with his uncased nuts
dangling like Christmas tree ornaments? And all on a stage in front of
hundreds of envious men and jealous women? Dubious honors to be sure, but she
wants desperately to sneak her left hand off her smooth thigh and rub her
clit.
Before she can work up the courage to masturbate in front of the grotesque
Reverend Olsen, Clem and Calhoun carry out her teeter-totter. Clem tilts the
front end of the board down and fits it between the kneeling girl’s heels and
round little butt. Chloe spreads her knees and slides her ass up the silk
covered surface, leaning forward to keep her mouth on the champ’s cock.
Calhoun pivots the board up as Chloe rotates gracefully on the tender flesh of
her inner thighs from a straddling position to belly down. The toned legs
sweep backward with perfect toe-point to lay on the board as well. The swollen
cockhead never slips from her mouth.
The artful maneuvers lack the jaw-dropping effect of splitting the skinned
halves of Johansen’s organ with her fingers, but they impress the Deadwooders
anyway. The Reverend forgets to scowl momentarily just as he was about to
object to fornication getting in the way of emasculation. The nude grace of
the circus-trained whore awes even him. He even applauds once, only once, with
the rest of the audience.
Chloe turns to her admirers and licks for a moment instead of sucking, letting
them see her shining dark eyes and a revived smile as she laps the hot head of
the doomed dick. Just then, Samson reaches between her legs, his middle finger
finding her button. Chloe’s body reacts without consulting her brain. The
simple touch acts as a trigger and she shoves herself onto Samson’s hand
already convulsing with the surprise orgasm. The saloonkeeper pushes her head
back onto the boxer’s bone while she writhes for a good 20 seconds, the
Eights’ patrons cheering.
When the spasms subside, Chloe buckles down to the real business at mouth. The
bartenders tilt the board to match the up angle of the long erection. They
nudge the base of the teeter-totter forward a bit. The whore’s whole body
begins to slide.
One layer of silk is fitted to the board; it doesn’t move. The loosely draped
top layer sticks to the slightly damp skin of the child-like prostitute, but
it rides over the first layer with almost no friction.
Chloe rolls her eyes up to look at the champ’s face. Pain is there, and
desire. She hopes he’ll forgive what she’s about to do. The first few seconds
of bob-sliding on the penis have been assisted by her left hand on the board,
tugging and pushing her tiny weight up and down the incline. Now, she releases
the board, gives her left nipple a quick, thrilling pinch and puts her hand
gracefully in the small of her back. With her fine ankles crossed in the air,
it’s obvious that her back-and-forth locomotion is powered only by the right
hand still wedged between the barrels of Johansen’s giant prick.
The transition is accomplished smoothly, although the crowd is still
astonished when the boxer’s butt is hauled away from the barrel on the whore’s
first pull. He grunts deeply. The root of the cock, loosened by Kwenimo’s
yanking, now extends toward Chloe, tenting the skin at the base. The sensual
mouth of the girl encompasses six inches of dick as the little body slides
down the silk covered board.
Chloe keeps her eyes locked on Angus as she begins to deep throat more of the
champion cock. When she pushes off, his ass compresses against the barrel
staves. His victimized staff shortens as it’s shoved momentarily deeper into
his groin. She knows the yanking and shoving hurts him and pleasures him at
the same time. And she knows too that if she wasn’t using this brutal
technique on her own, Samson would eventually instruct her to do so. Moving
herself via her grip on the split organ makes a cruel sort of sense if you’re
playing to the crowd, and she must.
It’s not long before Chloe’s oral ride consumes 8 then 10 inches of penis. The
thick log distorts her throat, allowing the watchers to track its progress.
The whore is enduring her own measure of pain. Sword swallowing is much
easier. Samson hasn’t forgotten about her pleasure, however.
The saloonkeeper passes word to the bar patrons that, for a small price, the
girl’s sweet cunt can be diddled while she sucks the Magnificent Member of
Angus Johansen, the Heavyweight Champion of the World, before the parts are
justly carved free of the callow rapist. Samson assures them it’s a moment of
historic significance. They don’t want to be left out.
The champ hears the pronouncement about the impending amputation and some of
his terror returns. The girl uses all of her skills to redirect his attention
to her mouth on his cock. She succeeds as much as can be expected.
She tries not to think how dirty are the rough fingers that begin playing with
her baby pussy. She keeps her eyes on Angus and imagines the fingers are from
his hands. She begins to come then and remains in a state of almost constant
orgasm, diving deeper with each push and pull of the fist trapped between the
pinching cavernosa of Angus’ rock hard penis.
Eventually, after many attempts, the young tongue licks at the raw flesh where
Kwenimo has peeled Angus’ skin away. She wiggles the exposed urethra with the
pink tip and withdraws from the long downward stroke. She gasps, for air and
from the climaxes exploding between her legs. On her next impalement, she
shows her teeth and pretends to savage the already raw tissues of the cock’s
open wound.
Breathe again then down again. This time, Chloe removes her hand from behind
her narrow waist to cup the boxer’s big right nut, hanging by its thread. She
bounces it, squeezes it, swings it almost gently into its neighbor then
strethes the spermatic cord until a strangled howl from Angus makes her stop.
Then there’s no more air.
Samson’s hands on her shoulders pull her completely off the dick. He jerks her
fingers from between its barrels. The throbbing 19 inches wobble and sway
without her guidance. The Reverend thinks Samson’s ready to get on with
decocking and castrating the massively endowed Romeo. But no, now the
saloonkeeper wants Johansen to penetrate the whore’s dripping cunt.
Clem and Calhoun untie the ropes around Johansen’s ankles and allow him to
stand while Chloe jacks the big rod with her small hands. He’s hobbled with a
short length of rope immediately. The gagged boxer doesn’t understand what’s
happening and neither does the crowd, but both wait expectantly.
The ropes on Angus’ arms are untied from the barrel too, but the ends remain
in the hands of the bartenders. He’s given enough slack to flex the strained
muscles.
“I’m going to pull that gag off here in a second so you can answer me,
rapist,” Samson says. “We’re going to extend some mercy to you — if you can
behave. The Reverend wants you castrated and your cock made a trophy and a
warning to all who would violate the innocent. He’d rather that happen sooner
than later, but the Eights & Aces Saloon and Bordello is a place of
entertainment, so justice will be meted out after you’ve had a last go with my
best whore. Do you want that last poke?”
The gag is removed. Angus draws a deep breath.
“Listen, Samson, friend, you know what the preacher says ain’t...”
Samson interrupts.
“Cut ‘em off, Kwen.”
The smiling Sioux starts forward, knife gleaming.
“Wait, wait! Please. Yes, Samson, it’s a good deal. I’ll take one last fuck
with sweet baby Chloe. That witch’s brew has me so hard nothing seems to
distract, so I guess the fix is in. You’re not going to let me out of this.
I’ll take her, give you a show, go out shooting.”
“Good, though you might refrain from more speeches.”
Angus nods and staggers forward in his hobbles to grasp Chloe by her unmatured
hips. But as their eyes meet, he moves one hand to touch her soft cheek and
she raises her back from the board to hold his head, kiss him and whisper
apologies that the closest of the spectators hear.
The Olsen twins, touched by the display of affection, seem to wish they could
express their regrets as well. Their religion-mad father would never allow it.
He’s almost apoplectic now. He hadn’t viewed his agreement with Samson in
quite these pornographic terms.
From behind the clutching couple, Kwenimo whips a strip of leather against the
tender blue-white testicles. Angus yelps.
“Fuck her, you dumb ox. That was the deal,” Samson threatens.
The boxer moves quickly to comply, making his first thrust clumsy. Chloe yelps
in her turn when the giant head of the cock rams between her pussy lips. The
beautiful face squeezes into an attitude of hurt that remains for the first
few seconds of penetration. Despite her well-oiled cunt and despite the recent
days of riding Angus’ dick, the tiny snatch is still tight. She takes a few
moments to adjust to the stretching the meaty johnson forces on her.
Spurred by the assault on the teen cunt, a fourth of the men in the crowd have
their dicks out now. Three of the Eights’ dozen whores are being fucked
openly.
Carrie Kate, the more aggressive of the two Olsen twins feels a tugging on the
ladder-back of her chair. She saw Billy Young, the banker’s horny son,
standing behind her earlier. She feigns Christian revulsion at the scene
before her and pushes her chair back a short distance out of her father’s
vision. The boy’s penis, a respectable eight inches, parts her blonde curls
and lays along her jaw and neck. She shivers at the hot contact, turns her
head to quickly kiss the head of the boy cock then reaches up to play with it.
Her father watches the boxer and the whore pump each other, oblivious to his
daughter’s lewd behavior just two chairs down. Others in the crowd are not so
blind. They point, whisper and grin.
Angus fits as much of the 19-inch hardness into Chloe as he can, but the dark-
eyed saloon angel isn’t deep enough to fuck his cock down to the flayed
section. When he strikes bottom she flinches, as she always does, and moans
with ecstasy because it hurts so good. Her state of constant orgasm returns as
the grand bone spreads her vaginal walls again and again.
A miner steps out of the crowd and seizes the head of the young girl. He
sticks a fat, uncircumcised dick into her mouth. Samson kicks the drunken lout
away before she has to taste his smegma. There’s no way to let anyone face-
fuck Chloe without obscuring the crowd’s view, or Samson would have let it
continue — for a fee.
Perhaps most entertaining for the crowd at the moment is the sight of
Johansen’s vulnerable balls swinging freely between his legs. The harder the
stroke, the harder they slap against Chloe’s ass. On the rebound, they swing
in a pendulum arc to bounce off Angus’ own clenched butt muscles. On shallower
thrusts there’s even room for the nuts to collide with the peeled part of the
shaft, doubling the agony of the ecstasy. Once, the left nut flies past the
shaft and lands atop the flayed cavernosa at the height of its arc. It lays
there for a second, a big, gleaming, dinosaur egg. Chloe brushes it off her
lover’s dick with a sweet grin. The crowd responds with applause, laughter,
shouts and more hurried jacking.
At a signal from Samson, Clem and Calhoun pull on the ropes attached to
Johansen’s wrists. He uncertainly but obediently steps back from the girl,
cockhead popping up when it slips wetly from her cunt. Samson yanks the
clothes off Deidre, the Eights’ second most favorite whore. Kwenimo fills her
hands with a lubricant while Samson speaks low in her ear. She kneels behind
Angus and takes the boxer’s big fruit in her hands.
Perhaps the Indian has mixed some sort of narcotic in the slick mixture.
Slathering the apricot-sized nuts with the stuff doesn’t seem to cause any
pain to the raw flesh, just the opposite. Angus groans with pleasure and
reaches back to caress Deidre’s cheek. She coats the jism jewels thickly,
holding them out so the crowd can watch. The cords she slicks up too, drawing
each between her fingers, thrumming the connections like guitar strings to see
them vibrate. Chloe again fondles the head of the bull dick and her own clit
during the interlude.
Deidre tells Chloe to hold the penis high as she urges Angus to shuffle
forward again. The meat’s not to go back in her cunt. The two bartenders swing
around in front of the boxer and the pair of whores, suggesting that they’ll
use the ropes to prevent him pulling away from Chloe.
“Turn on your side, sweetie. Put your right foot up on Angus’ chest to give us
a good look,” Deidre tells her young friend.
Chloe faces the crowd as the couple’s groins are brought closer together. The
extended cockhead is close enough to kiss if she bends a little, so she does.
Angus calls her “baby” when she worms the tip of her tongue into his generous
piss slit. Sticky pre-cum is inside.
Deidre, still massaging the gigantic balls, picks up the left one as she
begins to lubricate Chloe’s anus. The latest sex game becomes clear. Everyone
reacts. Chloe lets out a small squeal. Angus yells and tries to jerk back
against the ropes, although by this point he’s given up on escaping the pain.
He may even be acting. Deidre grins, trying to put a brave face on things.
She’s not a sadist, but she is a whore.
Once Chloe’s little butt is opened a bit, Deidre begins to insert the left
nut, which bulges and rolls and resists being forced into the tight space. The
boxer can’t hold back a scream. It’s far more pressure than the narcotic can
blank out. As Deidre learns a workable method, the testicle slowly disappears
inside the girl’s ass. Chloe’s tears and the teeth digging into her lip seem
to signal three watching men to blow their wads almost simultaneously. A
fourth, the banker’s son, creams into Carrie Kate’s hair. The preacher’s
daughter laps at the juice.
The second testicle follows the first, causing even more pain to the peeled
organs. Deidre pushes them deeper until the spermatic cords are taut and Chloe
is slapping at her hands. The red-haired whore feels sorry for the girl and
the boxer, but when Chloe clenches her bowels to force the impossibly big
things out, Deidre pushes them right back in, Angus yelling all the while.
Both victims decide to endure the malicious game while it lasts. Not much can
be done to stop it. They don’t try to conceal expressions of pain. Both are
smart enough to know that stoicism will only bring worse attacks and hasten
Angus’ dismemberment, but neither lets the pain take over completely. That
might annoy the crowd, too, and the crowd must be kept happy. Chloe even plays
with the 19-inch cock and sucks when her nerve endings aren’t overloading the
pain center of her brain. Finally, Deidre stops inserting and yanking out the
fantastic balls.
For her encore, the pretty, red-haired girl clamps her hand around both long
cords and draws the fruit behind the boxer’s legs to pull him away from Chloe.
She rotates the testicles around each other. The cords begin to braid
themselves together. The spinning continues until the neat, tight, alternating
lines of the cords begin to double and knot. Angus’ lungs are working fast.
When the balls are wrapped so tight they’re hard against his butt, Samson
brings a chair and forces the champion to sit on the very edge, the knotted
nuts barely visble below his quivering thighs. Deidre flicks her wrist and
they unwind, whirling down and around like a child’s toy then twisting up
again, then untwisting and back until at last they stop. Someone whistles,
shrilly. General chuckling.
But Deidre’s not done. Samson speaks low. Angus must stand now.
She collects the misused cum glands and waggles them by the cords in her fist,
slowly at first, causing them to flop ponderously. The shaking accelerates
gradually until she’s whipping the balls in short, blurry arcs to beat against
her hand, causing the vulnerable fighter to quiver and moan. When his knees
start to give way from the abuse, she follows him down, one arm around his
middle. Once he can sink no further, she bangs the nuts against the floor. It
raises him up again — off his heels. The broad shoulders hunch and the thick
leg muscles stand out when she pulls down again to batter the unprotected
balls for another round. It’s a contest to see which pain is worse, the
stretching of the cords or the pounding of the testicles. The fleshy fruit
deform visibly each time they impact the splintered boards. Their delicate
covering begins to abrade.
Samson at last tells her, “OK, slut. Let him go.” She puts a contrite kiss on
Angus’ cheek and smooths his sweaty hair before rising. It’s a shame, she
thinks, to destroy such a beautiful set of male parts. Conversely, controlling
such a powerful man after long years of being manhandled by the ungentle
clientele of the Eights has been exhilirating.
The saloonkeeper is not half as repentant. He kicks the champion to a standing
position and then up to the teeter-totter where Chloe still reclines, holding
her mistreated privates with both hands. Kwenimo grabs the great dick ahead of
the reaching girl and pulls it over the top of the sawhorse base of the
teeter-totter. In his hand is a hammer. The Sioux medicine man shoves a very
large nail between the skinned cavernosa and pounds it into the crossbeam
below.
Angus barely reacts, the two barrels of hardness are already split and the
nail missed the urethra; the steel between them hardly registers as pain. He’s
worried all the same. He becomes more worried when Kwenimo bends the top of
the nail over with a few well placed hammer blows. Another nail is fixed
between the engorged meat and bent the other way. The boxer’s dick can slide
forward and back along the four inches of split shaft but otherwise the nails
have immobilized it.
Even as hard-nippled Chloe extends a hand to fondle the hugeness once more,
Kwenimo drops his hammer and picks up his knife.
“No!” Chloe and Angus shout. “Samson!” they cry next.
Angus begs.
“Samson, friend, you promised I could do her, get off one more time. I haven’t
done that yet.”
The crowd agrees, but the Reverend does not.
“Finish it, Samson,” he says. “All this whoring wasn’t part of our agreement,
which I and God must remind you was made long before you promised anything to
this brute criminal.”
“The preacher has a point, champ,” Samson says, stroking his chin in mock
comtemplation. “I did make certain promises prior to granting you this minor
mercy.”
Abe Tanner, a garrulous panner known for his love of a good argument, speaks
up.
“Ain’t no mercy. We all saw what was done to those twins, and it weren’t rape.
I doubt a lesser man could have satisfied those little chippies.”
“LIES!!” The Rev. Olsen rounds on ol’ Tanner, who’s unfazed. “You are damned
to Hell if you side with this demon,” he says, shaking his cane at the miner.
“Yeah?” Tanner replies. “Maybe ‘fore you send me there, you explain to me why
Billy Young’s jizz is runnin’ down the neck of sweet an’ innocent, just-got-
raped Carrie Kate.”
All heads turn to look at the alluring waif. Billy tries to retreat into the
center of the crowd. Several arms extend and drive him back to stand behind
the guilty girl. Her hands are smearing the splatters of semen in an
unsuccessful attempt to wipe away the evidence.
“Father, no. It’s not ... I’ve been crying, you see, after what was done to
me...”
“Kinda sticky tears, all globbed up in your hair there, too, missy,” Abe
observes dryly. The mood in the saloon, except among the scattering of Bible
thumpers and betrayed husbands, swings decidedly in Angus’ favor.
The Reverend can’t believe his eyes. The boy’s cum is shining on her neck and
dripping from her curls. His daughter can’t be this much of a slut, to
fornicate where anyone could see when he’s risking his reputation to save
hers? It can’t be natural, therefore, the answer must be supernatural, which
fits nicely with what he’s been saying all along.
“Demons!” he cries. “Demons are possessing our children, our daughters and
sons! Our wives! And all brought here by this creature, this so-called
champion. The monstrosity between his legs is clear evidence, proof of what I
say. Even now it stands forth after punishments that would make a mortal man
lose consciousness.”
Angus dares to speak despite the threat of Kwenimo’s knife.
“Balls!” he shouts. “If I’m a demon, shouldn’t flaming jism shoot out of my
prick or some other nonsense? Where’s my tail, where’s my horns?” He laughs
bravely, considering his cock is nailed to a board. “Well, maybe I’ve got one
horn,” he says, looking down at the still stiff rod. “But I oughta have at
least two, hadn’t I, if what the preacher says is true?”
The Eights erupts in laughter.
Samson steps forward, arms raised to his patrons as he meets the Reverend’s
hate-filled eyes. He has an idea. He wills the preacher to stay silent and
succeeds.
“I say ol’ Angus is probably right about the demon aspect of this little
argument, and Abe, can’t believe I’m saying this, he may be right too about
the goings-on here earlier tonight. But you know and I know, my fellow
Deadwooders, that our good looking, studly champion from back East has been
cutting a pretty wide swath through the womenfolk in the camp — and not just
my whores. He’s got more to answer for than just ruining the twins’ pure
reputations.”
Shouts of encouragement come from the handful of cuckolded men whose pretty
wives flocked to fuck the big boned boxer.
“So I propose,” the saloonkeeper and whoremaster continues, “that you allow me
to keep my promise to Angus, and let him get his nut off, and keep at least
part of my promise to the Reverend — and a new promise to the husbands of
Deadwood — by allowing Kwenimo to TAKE a nut off. Angus can keep the other.
What do you say?”
Assent comes so fast and from so many corners of the Eights, Angus doesn’t
have time to appeal for a lesser sentence. Everyone but Chloe and the champ
have judged the one-ball proposal an acceptable compromise and good reason for
more entertainment. Nobody appears ready to answer the question of whether the
boxer’s remaining testicle will be able to survive without a scrotum to
contain it.
“Well there’s only one hole you haven’t fucked on little Chloe,” Samson says
to Angus while the cute teen begins again to lick and nibble at the oversized
glans. “Here’s your last chance to blow both balls, champ.
“But before you do, Kwenimo would like to provide you with a sort of apology,
a special potion of his that will make you fire off more joyjuice than you
ever have in your life.”
“That’s a mighty nice offer, Samson, but I don’t...”
“No, no, I insist. Kwenimo?”
Nailed down as he is and still roped to the bartenders, Angus is helpless to
resist the “apology.” The Sioux approaches with a huge hypodermic needle,
although no one in Deadwood has seen such an instrument. He grabs one nut and
pulls it out behind the defenseless stud as Deidre did before. The crowd leans
forward. The long needle pierces the testicle. Angus winces. Kwenimo depresses
the plunger, filling the giant gonad with the mysterious potion.
A fiery warmth begins to burn in the left nut. It’s not unpleasant, and the
suffering from Deidre’s pounding, squeezing and pulling departs on that side.
The sensation increases with a second injection through the opposite wall of
the ball. The right sperm maker is needled twice in turn, bringing a smile to
the boxer’s face. Samson smiles as well. Only Chloe recognizes that it’s his
evil smile.
The “potion” swirling into the nooks and crannies of the fighter’s gargantuan
orbs contains opium and alcohol — lots and lots of alcohol.
Angus’ comment about flaming jism gave Samson his best idea of the night.
While the debate over justice for the boxer was bending toward leniency,
Samson had asked Kwenimo if he knew a brew that would in fact generate fiery
semen. A practical sort, the Lakota witch had quickly come up with the dope
and alcohol mix, but he warned that an ignition source would be needed. And
there were no guarantees as to the outcome.
Samson believes flying gobs of burning goo will seal Johansen’s fate beyond
any argument even if a few guess the truth. The crowd will demand that the
boxer be nullified. Samson bends down to whisper part of his new plan to
perky-titted Chloe. He doesn’t explain how it will once again reverse the
champ’s revived fortunes.
Kwenimo hands the syringe to the girl and points to Angus’ piss slit. She
slips the sharp point cautiously into the thick bone’s urethra and squirts the
contents down the tube. The Indian demands two more doses before he’s content
and gestures for her to insert the needle fully, even jamming the tapered cone
of the syringe into the cum spout. Only once does she nick the inside of the
urethra.
After each filling, she drags her thumb firmly along the outside of the big
vessel to pump the liquid deep into the recesses of the genitals. She doesn’t
understand Kwenimo’s “apology,” but if it will make Angus cum more, she’s
eager to help. She loves watching the thick, gooey stuff shoot out of Angus’
big gun.
Deidre is demonstrating her throating technique to Billy Young’s father off to
one side of the stage so Chloe must lubricate the giant prick herself before
Angus stuffs it in her ass. She applies the goop generously, knowing it will
add to the narcotic overload Angus feels. Hopefully, with all of Kwenimo’s
doping, the boxer won’t even be aware that the cord has been cut when the time
comes.
With praticed moves, Kwenimo unbends the nails and yanks them loose without
touching the wounded penis. The heavyweight champ is free to begin buttfucking
the tiny whore.
Gently, Angus presses the hot head of his 19-inch cock against her opening.
She cries a little before the hurt truly begins just to please the crowd. The
pain becomes real when the enormous glans bulls past the sphincter muscle.
Small girl, small holes. The boxer keeps one hand on her hip. Chloe covers it
with her own, digging her nails in when she needs him to slow down.
They establish a rhythm, the girl wincing, grimacing and yelping at intervals
as he pushes deeper with each stroke. Some of the suffering is faked, and the
pain may in fact be less because of the primitive anesthetic in the lubricant.
But the crowd expects a little noise from the girl if only to reinforce their
thrill at seeing her so hugely penetrated. She obliges.
Four big racks of candles are trotted out to help light the scene, although
some would argue it’s not necessary. One of the blazing stands winds up next
to the copulating couple. They can both see the scowling visage of the Right
Reverend Olsen over the tops of the flames.
Angus senses a pending climax far sooner than he would like. He tries to relax
but the sensation is so good and his organs are so full of jism and opiates
that control slips away. The gigantic balls begin to rise as their cords
contract. The crowd sees it, and so does Samson. Chloe detects it in the extra
swell of the penis assaulting her.
“Shoot where they can see you, baby,” she coos to him. Samson has warned her
not to let the fighter blow inside her.
Angus withdraws proudly and lets her take the foot-and-a-half of slick cock in
both hands as she rises to a sitting position on her board, slender legs
dangling prettily on either side. She puts both thumbs on the ganglia of
nerves underneath the glans, urging the gorgeous organ to release its doctored
load.
The trembling begins in Angus’ feet and climbs his legs to encompass the
entire handsome frame of the long-tormented stud. Casually, Chloe aims his cum
cannon at the candles and directly at the hateful preacher. This she does
according to instruction. The boxer roars with the power of the first blast.
An incredibly long string of spunk erupts from the penis. The alcohol vapors
are potent, stinging Chloe’s eyes. When the jet of altered man juice tickles a
candle wick it explodes into flame, illuminating the stunned faces of the
crowd. Some of the long squirt burns away as it arcs toward the Reverend, but
a jelly-like core lands sizzling across his left cheek and eye, trailing away
into the widow’s peak of his hair. He screams, leaping to his feet.
Whirling, fiery ropes of jism burst in rapid succession from Angus’ cock. Four
more streak the preacher’s black frock coat as the crowd bolts in every
direction away from the howling man. A fifth glob of burning wad sears the
other side of the Reverend’s face. Chloe unrepentantly keeps jacking the rest
of the powerful load from the fire hose that is Angus Johansen’s 19-inch dick.
A dozen spurts more are ignited by the candle flames before the ejaculate
begins to fall short of the little fellow who rolls on the floor slapping at
the blazing lines of fire crisscrossing his clothing and face. He cries,
“Demon! Demon! Demon!” uninterrupted until his son throws a coat over him to
smother the seminal flames.
The boy has time to extinguish his father completely in the long moments it
takes for Angus to finish his promised orgasm. A puddle of unburned alcohol
cum spreads at the base of Chloe’s teeter-totter. The last spasms, though
generous, lacked the impetus to cross the candles. The caustic smell of the
accelerant fills the air along with that of charred flesh. The goliath organ
feels warm and fuzzy with the dope now seeping through the walls of the
urethra.
Chloe squeezes unshot drops of alcohol and opium semen from Angus’ penis,
dipping her pinky finger into the wide opening to scoop out a last bit of goo
so she can taste it. The flavor is like a too-strong drink, but still sweet
enough to savor. For brief seconds, her terror loses its place to sexual
exploration.
And the joy of seeing that hateful man burning...
Looking past the stage, the girl beams triumphantly at the vanquished
preacher. Her expression is not lost on the eldest son, or the daughters who
have come tentatively forward to aid the injured man. Chloe observes none of
their anger.
Angus wears the same shocked face as most of the Eights’ patrons until he
perceives Samson’s clever plan for turning the crowd against him once more.
Never able to resist a good fuck, Angus has unwittingly cast himself as the
demon that the pastor named him — with a little help.
“You evil, fucking sonofabitch,” he says thickly to Samson through the drug
haze.
“Me?” Samson mouths the word mockingly, pointing at his chest.
The saloonkeeper shouts to the bartenders still holding Angus’ ropes.
“Quick, boys! Tie him to the barrel again before he sets the whole place
afire! My God, he really is a demon!”
Hobbled, the fighter can’t use his powerful physique to counter the pull on
his wrists. He’s dragged yelling back to the barrel and stretched out once
more as the forever hard penis finally begins to droop a little. Chloe’s
gloating reverts to terror again. She thought they’d won when the mean little
man went down.
Once the champ appears to present no further threat, the crowd reassembles in
front of the stage and around the mewling preacher who no longer is capable of
coherent speech. The camp’s excuse for a doctor comes forward when the Olsen
children refuse Kwenimo’s offer of assistance. No heathen will touch their
father, especially one who has had such a suspicious role in all that’s gone
wrong this evening.
The boy rises, his father’s former strength seemingly transferred to him. He
points at Samson.
“I see your hand in this, you purveyor of filth and debauchery. No more deals,
no more delays, no more fornication. Finish this devil now or we burn this
House of Lies to the ground!”
The angry eyes of the crowd back up the threat. No one understands exactly how
Samson has arranged this disaster, but they presume rightly that his hands are
dirty. Their looks say if they could prove anything, the whores and their pimp
would be burned out before sunrise.
Samson turns to the grinning Kwenimo and jerks his head toward the boxer. The
bright little blade is already in his two-finger grip.
“Wait,” Lashly says, not content to be quiet this time. “Her too. The whore.
She should be punished with him. She aimed the devil’s thing at papa. And she
was glad.”
Chloe’s jaw drops.
“But ... no, Samson told me...”
The slap that takes her across the face makes the doe eyes roll up in her head
as she pitches off the board. Samson half catches her, then picks up the limp
lovely and deposits her in front of Kwenimo and the boxer. Once again, he
whispers in the Indian’s ear.
A pinch of stinking something is held under the girl’s nose. She revives, a
bit less alert than before but still afraid. Kwenimo boosts her from the floor
to a seat astraddle her teeter-totter directly in front of the bound boxer.
The momentarily drooping dong throbs now under a fresh measure of aphrodisiac
poured quickly down the already dopey Angus. Clem and Calhoun scoot Chloe’s
seat even closer to the condemned tumescence.
The unguided cockhead pushes against her left breast then the Indian slides
her over so it rests between the two darling boobs. Even with a four-inch
section of skin torn away near its base and even with the balls banging around
without a bag to hold them, the beautiful package still thrills her. Two coral
colored nipples rise in response.
Kwenimo smiles, he was worried he would have to smear the sensitive titty tips
with an irritant to make them stand up. This is better. He hopes to fuck this
whore as his reward for his service today. It will be a rare pleasure. He
hasn’t savaged any white pussy since raping a settler’s wife and daughter down
in Kansas 12 years ago.
Samson warns Chloe not to move no matter what happens. She turns her adorable
eyes at him but fails to draw any sympathy with the vulnerable look. She nods.
She’s only a whore. What can she do against strong men when even the best
fighter in the world has been subdued and humiliated?
“Arch your back,” Samson tells her.
Kwenimo holds up a long loop of thin silver wire. The end next to her taut
nipple has been sharpened beyond a fine point. The delicate girl gasps when
the fragile skin is pierced by the wire. She struggles not to pull back.
Kwenimo smoothly drives the point through the pretty nipple, a tiny amount of
blood showing on either side. It’s erect state falters a bit. This is her
punishment.
The big, thumping cockhead is threaded next on the wire. The glans is holed
close to its middle but not deep enough to intersect the hard cavernosa. Angus
has been gagged again, so his only reaction is a tightening around the eyes
and a few grunts.
The left nipple is lanced less smoothly, prompting a tiny cry from Chloe. More
wire is pulled through all three pieces of erectile tissue so that the ends
can be looped behind the girl’s neck. The purpose of the loop isn’t
immediately clear.
Lashly steps forward unbidden and tugs at the silver, bringing tears to
Chloe’s cheeks. Angus growls at the twin through his gag.
“Like that, whore? Better than burning isn’t it? Or losing an eye? Papa may be
blinded and this is all they do to you? I hope it tears them off when they
take the demon’s pretty horn from him.”
Clem, who likes Chloe, gently draws the angry Olsen girl away from her less
fortunate counterpart. Lashly shrugs him off but sits again.
Below the metal circle joining nipples to glans, Kwenimo has returned his
attention to the swinging balls. Sitting crosslegged, he brings the big left
nut into full view of the crowd and stretches the cord to the snapping point
while Angus’ muffled protests rise in volume and level of alarm. He squeezes
just to see the fighter bang his head against the barrel. Destroying this man
has been most enjoyable.
He puts the blade edge against the cord close to the body, lightly testing the
spring of the flesh. Then he rests his thumb on the other side and cuts. The
severed ends jump apart, and the crowd ooohs and ahhhs again. Kwenimo holds
the first detached nut high by the cord before lowering it into the big glass
bowl beside the scrotum and floating rectangles of cockskin.
Maybe the preacher was right. Maybe such a bulky, bloated ball doesn’t belong
on a man. The cut nut appeared huge when it hung from the boxer. It seems
truly gigantic now, half-submerged and displacing enough fluid to raise the
level in the bowl almost to the point of overflow. Angus is indeed a bull of a
man. Half a bull, now.
The testicle is given a quick massage. Milky sperm is stripped out of the
wrinkled cord into the clear liquid of the bowl. The hypodermic, cleared of
its first fiery mixture, has been loaded with the same preservative
surrounding the suspended genital tissues. The spermatic cord is fitted over
the longest needle Kwenimo has available before the pickling solution is shot
down the tube. Again the ball is kneaded then more juice is fired into the
cord.
Chloe closes her eyes rather than look, but look is all Angus can do as the
long horror of this night becomes permanent. He is helpless to stop the
removal of his masculinity.
The second ball gets placed atop the penis upright, the intact cord curving
over and down the side of the testicle then below the base of the penis to
loop up and disappear inside Angus’ groin. A torturer’s smile becomes fixed on
the Sioux’s face. Instead of snapping the cord, he sets his blade against the
bottom of the huge nut, facing the onlookers. Angus jerks and bucks against
his restraints, trying to throw his last remaining ball off its unsteady perch
as if that might save it from the Lakota knife. Kwenimo waits.
When Angus quiets, the blade is pushed deep, almost to the other side of the
nut, effectively splitting the organ as the knife is drawn upward. The effect
resembles a butterfly cut for pork chops. As the blue-white fruit is opened,
milky goo drains out of the small chambers and fissures inside. The boxer is
banging his head again. Blood comes from his mouth where he has bitten himself
through the gag.
Chloe weeps, but Lashly and Carrie Kate approach to peer at the organic
architecture of the seed pod.
“Demon. We can be sure now,” Carrie Kate says matter-of-factly. “A true man’s
seed makers would look more ...”
“Holy?” Lashly suggests.
“Yes, exactly. These are too ugly.”
Kwenimo extends the halved nut minutely towards the girls, gesturing for them
to touch the tender tissues. Lashly puts forth her index finger and explores
to see the champion’s reaction. He still has full feeling through the big
nerve in the spermatic cord. The touch is agony, as much mental as physical.
She is playing with his opened organ as if he were less than an animal. Carrie
Kate takes in the horror in Angus’ eyes and tenderly pulls her sister’s hand
away.
“Let it be done,” she says.
Two golden threads are used to hold the split testicle closed and make it
ready for detachment. Kwenimo stretches the cord tight as before, but now he
strops the blade along a one-inch length of the connection, wearing away fine
layers of flesh. The three swipes necessary to scrape away the main nerve
stimulate involuntary spasms in Angus. When only a remnant holds, Kwenimo tugs
sharply and the cord snaps. The filleted nut joins its fellow in the bowl.
Chloe’s eyes track it this time, disbelieving. Such things shouldn’t be done,
they just shouldn’t, she thinks. She despairs. Her madly-hung lover is now a
eunuch, but it’s not enough for Samson or the Indian.
Kwenimo happily dry shaves the pubic hair surrounding Angus’ turgid penis.
That done, he probes with his fingers above the base of the shaft, locating
the pelvic bone. He digs lower to find the suspensory ligament that holds up
the legendary cock. Satisfied, he cuts shallowly from the right edge of the
scrotal wound up and over the penis and down the left side. Twice more he
follows the same path, trimming away slivers of flesh that will only look
ragged when the flesh bone is freed from its moorings. He pauses now and then
when the fighter struggles futilely against his bonds. New grease is smeared
over the growing wound around the penis to halt the obscuring blood.
At last, the way is clear to the suspensory ligament. It is huge as is
everything connected with the bafflingly large organs. Kwenimo has amputated
the dicks of other well-endowed men. None so large, but on them the supporting
structure was feeble in comparison with the cocks they were required to
suspend. The bigger the dicks were, the lower the angle when hard. Kwenimo had
always been disappointed by the extremely large ones. Johansen, on the other
hand, wears his erection proudly, thrusting up into the air when not encased
in mouth, pussy or ass. He has a truly champion cock to go with the champion
fists.
Despite the grand nature of the boxer’s ligament, the knife parts it all the
same, and the giant penis sags abruptly, jerking on Chloe’s nipples where the
fine wire connects her to him. A sharp, short scream comes from her. She
doesn’t dare look down to see the damage, but it’s not much. The bulk of the
weight was absorbed by the loop around her neck as Kwenimo and Samson
intended. Despite Lashly’s demands, they’re not about to damage the earning
potential of a fine, young whore.
Eighteen inches lower, the immense dick wavers with much of its raw root
revealed after the cutting of its main anchor. Kwenimo pulls at the cock,
drawing three inches of bloody root into the candlelight, letting Chloe’s
nipples and neck hold up the front end. Deidre has wedged a pillow behind
Angus’ head to keep him from breaking his skull. She means it for a kindness,
but it only prolongs the boxer’s pain.
Once more, Kwenimo strips the covering from the cock, this time at the newly
exposed root. When the cavernosa and urethra are bared, the Indian pauses for
the flicker of an eye, then bisects the cum tube with a quick flash of the
knife. Men who haven’t shivered before, quaver now as they imagine themselves
in the champion’s place.
Thicker wire is selected for the next phase of the mutilation. Silver again
because Kwenimo believes in the ceremony of sacrifice. He forces a sharpened
end between the dividing cavernosa of the exposed root. The wire is cinched
around one barrel of meat. The other engorged tube is accorded its own wire
noose. With two pairs of pliers, the Indian begins to tighten the loops,
choking off the blood flow and crushing the two cavernosa. When the hardness
is compressed to the tearing point, he loops smaller gauge wire behind the
first pair and repeats the process. The long dick is staying hard, the wires
trapping the blood inside them. Two pencil-thin channels of bottlenecked cock
are all that connects the American Casanova to what’s left of his fuckmeat.
A third set of wires are tied loosely to finish the job.
Kwenimo winks at Chloe, a sincere attempt to reassure her. The weight of the
penis when it comes off won’t tear her delicate flesh, he means to say. She
doesn’t understand.
He spins the wires tight quickly. They’re fine enough to rip easily through
the flesh, but that’s not what Kwenimo has in mind. He’ll cut behind them with
his knife, then tighten the wires on the suddenly flaccid flesh. Without the
pressure of the blood, the cut ends will close instead of rip the tissues
beneath the fine wire. If the Sioux is quick enough, Johansen’s severed pole
won’t soften a bit.
Samson comes forward and removes the gag from Angus mouth. The boxer breathes
heavily but says nothing.
“Any last words before you’re cut, demon?”
“I’ll see you and the fucking heathen in Hell,” he says. His next sentence is
lost because Kwenimo chooses that instant to slice through the pinched
cavernosa.
Blood sprays from Angus’ groin as both barrels are cut in two. The choked end
of the enormous cock swings free of its owner to thud between Chloe’s thighs.
He screams and so does she, although she reacts mostly from fright and the
shock of having the boxer’s suddenly detached penis hanging from her nipples
and neck.
Kwenimo has been inhumanly quick. A miniscule drip of blood flows from the
right cavernosa, but no more. The Indian waves a candle under it, searing the
flesh together before turning back to stop the fountain of blood coming from
the nullified hero.
As if on cue, both Angus and Chloe faint. He loses consciousness from blood
loss. She passes out from stress and terror.
Samson catches the girl before she can roll to the floor with the bloody
trophy around her neck. He lays her gently back on the board and positions the
erect severed manhood carefully on her belly and chest. He calls Deidre over
to make a prettier arrangement of the unconscious girl’s hair.
The crowd is already surging forward to see the bloody gap in Angus’ groin and
his sundered cock on Chloe’s beautiful pierced bosom. Clem and Calhoun try to
hold back the press so Samson can organize a queue and assess a fee for the
viewing. There are grumblings but no talk of torching the place, for which
Samson counts himself lucky.
Chloe wakes after a dozen men have passed, daring to touch her punctured
nipples instead of the real object of their fascination — the unjustly cleaved
but justly famous and tremendously oversized penis of Angus Johansen. She
starts to rise but Samson threatens her life and forces her to recline with
the hot cock growing cold against her.
Angus she can see, head lolling, as Kwenimo unties him from the barrel and
lays him out on another board. Most of the bleeding from the gaping wound has
been halted. He may survive the shock or die, either one.
He hasn’t much reason to live. Chloe pities him with all her heart. For such a
virile male to become less than a man will hurt beyond any physical sensation
of pain. No doubt he too will wake on display. Staring faces will watch the
horror rush back into his eyes as he sees himself without his huge genitals
for the first time. Kwenimo will wait until the crowd clears to sew him up
properly.
After the entire line has passed by once, Samson allows the crowd to mill
around, approaching the little whore and the big boxer at will. The other
whores are commanded to suck and fuck openly if their customers want to
dispense with the privacy of upstairs rooms. He orders this mostly to offend
the eldest son of the Rev. Olsen, hoping he will leave with his blinded father
and his sisters now that the doctor has finished tending the burned preacher.
They only depart, however, when Billy Young starts making eye contact with
Carrie Kate and nodding toward a dark and unoccupied corner of the saloon.
The crowd gathers close a few minutes later when the Indian unthreads the
silver wire from Chloe’s nipples and the head of the clipped cock. He smears
her points quickly with an unguent and wraps a clean white bandage about her
chest. It’s not strictly necessary, given the small size of the holes in her
teats, but Kwenimo has become enamored of the young girl and hopes to win her
favor and Samson’s permission to fuck her brains out. The aging warrior is no
Angus, but he fancies his prick big enough to make most women walk carefully
the morning after.
Freed from her attachment to Angus’ culled bone, Chloe waits for Kwenimo to
turn away then she hops off her board, dodges Samson’s grasp and flees up the
stairs to her room. Samson lets her go, figuring it’s more trouble than it’s
worth to drag her back before the crowd. He decides he’ll fetch her in an hour
or so and charge double the normal price for anyone who wants to plug her
holes and gnaw the perforated nipples while they’ll still bleed.
A broad table is dragged onto the stage for Kwenimo to initiate his taxidermy
on the fantastic fuck rod so recently attached to the former heavyweight
champion of the world. Former now because what man could possibly summon the
desire to fight when all desire has been hacked from his physique? Deidre
doesn’t argue when Kwenimo directs her to wash the champion bone, which is
smeared with pussy juice, spit, Angus’ own cum and Kwenimo’s narcotic
lubricants.
True to form, Johansen wakes from the shock of nullification sooner than
expected. Kwenimo identifies an opportunity and mixes a concoction to clear
the fuddled brain of the gelded fighter. He should have stayed senseless for
hours with the blood loss and the opiates. No matter. He can watch with dismay
as his privates are converted to public curiousities.
Chloe imagined it much as it happens. Recall comes slowly to Angus. The mental
fog lifts in a few nodding swings of the head. The transformation, when it
begins, is horrible. Full-fledged terror distorts the handsome face, and his
howl of despair as his eyes find his dismembered dick swivels every head in
the saloon. Kwenimo smiles. He guesses the decocked cocksman will go mad soon.
To business.
The rigid cock is laid on its back, so plug full of blood that it balances on
its wide head and wider base, the sweeping arc of the bone allowing nothing of
the shaft to touch the table. The silver-tied ends of the trophy meat hang an
inch or so over the edge. Clem positions a bucket under the twin cylinders of
the corpora cavernosa.
Kwenimo aligns his knife over the narrow gap between the second and third sets
of wires and slices a quarter-inch from the exposed root. The fine hoops of
silver clink at the bottom of the bucket an eyeblink before the pressurized
surge of blood splats over them. The penis wilts quickly, shrinking and
drawing in on itself while the fluid drains. The flayed area almost disappears
in the accordion bunching of flaccid cock. Where two heartbeats ago 19 inches
of solid male wood held itself up, only 10 inches cringes now. The head twists
over lazily on its side, too tired to ever punish another pussy. The smaller
crowd now gathered round the table are almost saddened by the deflation.
The obnoxious, overweight whore who called for blood sausage earlier in the
evening assists the Indian with squeezing more blood from the meat. Rhoda
stretches the shrunken sausage to its erect length while Kwenimo limbers up
the fat end of a pool cue that Samson keeps for a billy club against rowdy
patrons. He flattens the very tip of the wide cockhead under the cue, rolling
it up to Rhoda’s fingers just behind the glans. She moves her fingers quickly
to pinch the tip of the knob, and Kwenimo crushes down the length of the taut
hose. An unexpected amount of blood streams out of the two spouts over the
bucket.
Angus vomits, sickened by the sight of his famous penis being prepared for
stuffing like the main course at Sunday supper.
Kwenimo squeegees the organ several times more, turning it thrice to make sure
the alternating pressures force out all of its natural fluid.
With every last drop of blood pressed out, the mammoth prick shrinks to a
pale, withdrawn 8 inches. To Angus’ eyes, his renowned rod looks
insignificant. He passes out again.
Three weeks later Angus has suffered through an infection and long fever. An
amused assemblage of bar patrons awaits him as he staggers down the stairs
toward a waiting stagecoach. Chloe props him up. The Eights’ patrons make a
path for the couple that directs them close to the long bar where a purple
silk covering glows over a towering glass cylinder. Samson pulls the cover off
as Angus passes. The weakened man tries not to see, but his head turns and his
eyes travel up and down the fluid-filled tube, noting the perfect pink
coloring, the bulging veins, the restored skin, the pendant testicles. With
the thick root added to its length, the tremendous cock seems larger and
prouder than ever. The swollen, purple head appears to be straining to shoot
new globs of rich, creamy cum, but it will not.
Angus lowers his head as the laughter herds him out the door.
“Quite a story,” the cowboy tells Samson. The barkeep blows out the lamps
appove the tall cylinder, casting the preserved penis into shadow. He holsters
the display case inside its silk covering and replaces it on the shelf behind
the bar.
“Worth a quarter?” Samson asks with a smile.
“Worth your balls,” the cowboy says. “How do ya do. My name is Pete Johansen.”
Samson reaches for the sawed-off pool cue he keeps under the bard. The cowboy
has been waiting with the reflexes of the young son of a very quick boxer. He
thumps Samson between the eyes with the butt of his revolver.
Later, bleeding unchecked from his blank groin, Samson tells Pete where
Kwenimo lives.
* * * |
Dad's Best Stories 3 | GAY, WARNING | Dad tells the rigors of foreign service | ` `
I jumped bare-assed naked between the sheets when I heard Daddy coming up the
stairs to tell me my bedtime story.
“It was in Kokkistan, one of those new Soviet Republics. They started an army
and a draft but some of the draftees were real goof-offs so they put them in a
punishment unit. Every morning, when they fell out for roll call, one of their
cocks would be cut off.”
“Wow, Dad, every morning?”
“Yes, they’d all stand naked in ten rows of six men. The sergeant would draw a
number and that man’s cock would be cut off right then and there.”
“Oh, Daddy, you know I love it when big men get their precious cocks cut off.
How did they cut them off?”
“With a simple pruning knife. They would cut them a little more than half-way
through at the base, then pull their cocks out by the roots.”
“I bet they screamed loud and long. Tell me about their screams, Daddy.”
“It hurt so much, they screamed like mountain banshees. Their screams were so
erotic it made all the other men’s pricks stand up tall. After the first few
times, the men all had their rock-hard cocks up solid and throbbing when they
lined up in ranks, from just thinking about what was going to happen.”
“Oh, gee, Daddy, I wish I could have seen it.”
“You can picture it. Sixty naked men with giant erections waiting for one of
them to be cut off.” He pinched the head of my errant dick as it raised a
small tent with the top sheet. “We wouldn’t want your sweet pecker cut off,
would we?” He leaned forward and squeezed the sheeted bulge.
“No, no, I only like it when you tell me about other men’s prongs being ripped
out.”
“That’s my boy, that’s my toy,” he quipped, turning down the sheet and
displayed my stiff meat. My shaft was in his fist in a second, then his mouth
came down, wet and hot on my cockhead, pulling on it with a big slurping
sounds. He came up long enough to say, “Oh, baby, you got Daddy’s sweet-meat
treat. If I cut it off, I could have it all the time.”
“You can have it any time, Dad. I love it when it’s in your mouth.”
“Those Kokkistan soldiers passed around the severed cock so everyone could get
a couple of licks of it. Then they would fondle their own hard cocks until
they squirted. They would be marched off to training and kids on the way to
school would run onto the parade ground where the men had stood and lick up
their hot cum from the hard clay.”
“Oh, Daddy, suck me. Suck my hot juices out.”
“The cockless soldier would be left to bleed to death and would be replaced by
another guy. It all happened so quickly, they didn’t have a chance to kiss
their buddy good-by. So every night at bedtime, they would all kiss one
anothers’ cockheads good-by, knowing one would be disconnected the next
morning. After a few weeks, the soldiers were so accustomed to the routine,
they would ejaculate at the same time at the sound of the scream without even
touching their hot pricks. It caused volleys of sprays of hot cream to arch
through the brisk morning air. Even the cock being cut off would get off one
last shot and the school kids would scramble to get his gunk first.”
“Please, Daddy, suck me now. It’s yours. Suck your boy’s hot jelly roll.”
“The school kids would wait for the number of the unfortunate man to be called
out by row and position and scream with joy. They were especially delighted if
it was a brother or father, because they would get the privilege of licking up
the gobs of his manliness and taking home the severed genitals. Would you
squeal with joy if it was my cock being cut off?”
“Oh, dear Dad, no. I love your cock. I need your cock in my mouth and up my
ass.”
“It might be hard to keep from showing your joy, knowing that my big, fat,
thick cock you love so much is about to get a one-time-only thrill and you
would be able to tongue the last juices. The last juices out of a well-
seasoned cock like mine are the best of all.”
“Oh, Daddy, I want to suck your cock for all time and get every last drop of
your hot cream on my tongue and up my nose.” The thought of it made me jerk
down Dad’s ‘jama bottoms and sink his whopper deep into my mouth, scraggly
hair and all.
“Aaah, yeah! Bite it. Bite it hard. Ow! Ow! Yes, bite down on that prime
meat.”
I was grinding and chomping, willing to eat my Daddy’s chunky right on the
vine, when I scraped tender cartilege and he let out a big howl. We heard Mom
come running up the stairs and Dad pulled up his pajamas in time and told her
he had stubbed his toe. He left, but he crept back in during the night and
sucked me slowly and swallowed my juice until my ding-dong was tender and dry.
I never saw Dad again. The next morning, I left home and joined the Kokkistan
army.
* * * |
The Love Boat, A San Carlos Island Story. | GAY, NULLIFICATION, MINOR | This is the story of an unlikely friendship between a San Carlos Island \"boy\" and his first client. Don\'t let the title fool you. This is nothing like the 1970\'s TV sitcom. | Technically speaking Drew and Elijah were client and slave but in reality they
were close friends. At times it seemed that they were best friends. They had
first met on San Carlos Island three years earlier. Elijah had been a recently
castrated and frightened little 9 year old slave and Drew was is first client.
He had tried to be brave but after he was delivered to Drew's room the little
eunuch lost his composer and started to cry uncontrollably. Most clients would
have been angered by this display and demanded a full refund, but not Drew.
Even in tears-and trying to cover his crotch in shame-the little guy was so
pretty that the man fell instantly in love. He lifted the child up into his
strong arms and comforted the naked eunuch. He wiped the tears from Elijah's
beautiful face and the long blond hair away from his sexy blue green eyes.
"Let's get you dressed," Drew had said. "That will make you feel safe. Don't
worry little Elijah, I'm not going to do anything to you. I won't hurt you in
anyway."
"But f I don't please you Ben will place me on the auction block and I'll end
up in some cheep brothel having my brains fucked out every night." the little
eunuch said and he started to sob anew.
"Don't worry about that little one," Drew said. "Next morning I'll tell Ben
that you were fantastic. I'll tell him that you are the best I've ever had and
I've had plenty. If Ben ever dose decide to sell you I'll buy you for myself."
"But why?" Elijah had asked. "Why are you doing all this for me when I haven't
done anything for you?"
"I'm doing this because you are a wonderful little guy and I want you for my
son."
"But why would you want me as your son? I've been gelded. I'm not even a boy
anymore," Elijah said.
"That doesn't matter to me," Drew replied. That night Drew and Elijah stayed
up late just talking and eating pizza. The Nullo explained that his real
father, who he had loved, died years ago, and that he had been sold by his new
stepfather. "I never want to see that creep again," Elijah had said. "He was
planning on selling me all along, even before he married my mom. He was only
interested in the money. Once married my mom couldn't refuse him and I got
sold into slavery. I never want to see either one of them ever again as long
as I live!"
"Think of me as your new dad," Drew said
Elijah had just turned 12. With Drew's love and support-and Ben's guidance-he
had become one of the best and most expensive sex slaves on San Carlos Island.
Elijah was far too skilled for Ben to sell at any price. To celebrate their
three year anniversary Drew had rented the nullo for ten days to take him on a
father son Caribbean cruse. Two days at sea Drew found the child on the ship's
deck looking down at the swimming pool. The pool was filled with happy fathers
and their naked young sons playing and splashing in the cool water. But Elijah
didn't look very happy. "Why the long face?" Drew asked.
"When you told me that you were taking me on this cruse I didn't know that
there was going to be so much nudity and boy swapping," the youth answered.
"Well I hadn't expected things to be quite so blatant," Drew admitted. "But I
don't see why it bothers you."
"You mean that because I'm a San Carlos boy who is used to sucking dick and
have his butt pounded by all sort of strange men it shouldn't upset me!"
Elijah shot back.
"I didn't mean it like that Elijah. Look this cruse is for you to have fun. If
you don't want sex that's fine, you don't have to have it. On this ship you
are my son. No one knows that you are a slave and they never will. Now why
don't you go for a swim with your new friends?"
"The other kids, and even some of the men, are starting to ask questions. They
want to know why I never remove my swimsuit," Elijah said.
"If you want to leave your suit on you can and if you want to go nude you can.
Either way it's all up to you," Drew replied.
"Go Naked?" Elijah asked. "Have you forgotten that I've been castrated?"
"That was three years ago. I thought you had adjusted to being a nullo."
"I have but have they?" Elijah asked pointing to the pool. "This cruse is for
rich boys and their proud dads. Boys like that are never castrated. The have
too much money for that. People will ask questions. What will I tell them when
that ask what happened to my genitals?"
"Let them ask," Drew said. "You don't have to answer. Tell them that sexual
nullification is a personal matter and it's really none of their business why
you were done."
After awhile Elijah did go down to the pool but he kept his suit on. One of
the boys, a cute little ten year old named Joey, was just coming out for a
swim. "Ouch!" the naked boy said to Elijah as he rubbed his cute little
bottom. "I'm so sore back there. My Butt really got some pounding last night."
But the boy had a triumphant grin and was clearly hoping that Elijah would ask
for details.
"What happened?" Elijah asked.
"Last night my dad got really drunk at the poker table and he lost me to this
really big black guy with a ten inch whang! I'm not kidding. It was this
long," Joey said as he held his hands apart like the kid who was telling about
the fish that got away, only this fish didn't get away!
"Your dad lost you in a poker game?" Elijah asked.
"It was only for one night," Joey said. Then he smiled and added. "The black
guy was so huge it was scary as hell and his dick hurt really bad but all the
same it was the most fun I've ever had. The black guy treated me like I was
his slave! I had a blast! But then you wouldn't know anything about that
Elijah. Poor Elijah you don't know what you are missing. Everyone says that
you are a virgin and will probably die that way."
"I'm not a virgin," Elijah replied.
"Oh yeah right!" Joey teased. "I've already had four different men now and I
sucked three of them," the boy bragged. "How many men have you had?"
"I lost count soon after my ninth birthday. The fact is I'm a world class
catamite. I'm rated in the top 2% on the Greenburg scale," Elijah answered
true.
"Lier!" Joey said. If you had a rating that high you'd be making 10,000 a
night. As it is you can't even remove your pants. Did you know that my dad
offered your dad to trade us for a night? Your dad answered, 'Sorry I'd love
to enjoy Joey but Elijah hasn't yet told me that he is ready to be swapped.'
That's just what your dad said. I should know, I was there."
Elijah hadn't known any of that. As a slave he had no rights at all. He wasn't
used to being treated with such respect, even by Drew.
"You can't even take off your swimsuit Elijah," Joey said as one last dig.
With that Elijah did remove his suit and tossed it overboard. "Elijah you're a
nullo!" Joey exclaimed staring at Elijah's smooth crotch.
"Really? I hadn't noticed," Elijah replied sarcastically.
"I'm sorry it came out that way, really I am," Joey said. "I've heard about
eunuchs before of course but until you I never met one. Why did they castrate
you? Did you want them to? Do you like it? Did you cry when they did it?
"Castration is a very personal matter for any kid. If I feel like it I might
answer your questions later on but only if I feel like it," Elijah replied.
"Okay Elijah, I guess it was pretty nosy of me to ask you all those questions
like that. And just so you know, I don't have a problem with it. In fact I
think it looks hot." Joey said and Elijah believed every word because Joey's
little penis was standing up and just as hard as it could be.
Latter that day Elijah found Drew sunning himself on a deck chair. "I see that
you have overcome your shyness about going nude," Drew said to his young
friend with a knowing grin.
"Yeah," Elijah replied with a coy smile. "I guess I was being pretty silly.
You were right. No one is bothered that I'm a nullo. In fact I'm something of
a celebrity. I'm the only nullo on this ship and just about everyone wants to
ball me. The boys as well as the men."
Elijah then straddled Drew's lap. The man reached up to to run his fingertips
lightly over the little eunuch's flawless body. The child purred with
pleasure. He them leaned forward to French kiss Drew.
"I'm sorry that I've been acting like such a little shit daddy. You take me on
a wonderful cruse and I've been mean. I want prove my love to you."
"Really?" the man asked. "And how would you like to do that.?"
"There are a lot of wonderful boys on this ship and you could have anyone of
them. Lead me out to any man on board and in return you can take your pick of
any boy you see. That's how it works on The Love Boat.
"I'm not lending you out to anyone," Drew said. "You are the only boy I need."
"But I'm not even a boy," Elijah giggled as he fingered his empty crotch
provocatively. The young eunuch then positioned his boy pussy over Drew's had
dick.
"What? Are you going to fuck me here?" Drew asked. "People will see us!"
"Good, let them watch. I want everyone to see how much I love my daddy." The
young eunuch replied as he lowered himself onto Drew and expertly used his
butt muscles to grip and release the man's hard dick as he slid himself up and
down on the shaft in sexual ecstasy. The frightened little eunuch Drew had met
three years earlier had blossomed as Drew had always known that he would.
The End (For Now)
* * * |
Last night with the Butcher Girls. [S] | `
# Last night with the Butcher Girls.
By: PR
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[STRAIGHT] [PENECTOMY] [TESTICLES] Other:
In the future World Female Republic (WFR), Booth, an
unreconstructed male is caught 'looking', a serious offence. At the
same time, the world is experiencing a meat shortage and Booth
finds himself in an unenviable predicament....
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Last night with the Butcher Girls.
In the new Republic, male rights had not only been reduced,
they had gone into free-fall. It seemed every day that new
legislation was introduced to further 'control' males, until it
seemed almost anything could be done to them, legally of course…
The rise of animal rights led to a shortage of meat, and the meat
substitutes were never quite perfected. At the same time, the
frequent death penalties handed out to males for all manner of
offences (usually sexual, even 'looking' could lead to a
termination) led paradoxically to a new source of the much sought
after 'real meat'….
Booth had been an adventurer, a man of the world, his
perfectly toned and fit body had taken him all over the globe. His
lifestyle in which he hardly ever read a newspaper mean't that the
rapid rise of the new World Female Republic (WFR) under the
psychotic man-hater Hilary Clinton had almost taken him by
surprise. He returned to his native London, unaware of the ever
more bizarre restrictions upon male behaviour now in place. Booth
was a man who liked to 'look' - especially at nice female bottoms
in tight trousers - ha was soon arrested and to his complete
disbelief he was sentenced to death as a 'potential' rapist. Booth
was the kind of man who tended to dream, even now he could not
really believe his own predicament. His predicament was serious. He
was to be executed and his meat served in an exclusive London
restaurant in honour of an 18 year old girls birthday Party. He
knew all of this as his guard had enjoyed telling him in the prison
van on the way there. He knew that it was an exclusive family
affair - a wealthy family had block-booked the whole restaurant;
involving only the girl's two elder sisters and her mother and an
aunts. What Booth did not know was that he was actually on his way
to the restaurant itself to be executed there - the freshness of
meat was highly prized in the best restaurants of the new Republic.
Booth was staggered when he was led naked out of the van into
the back of what was clearly a restaurant. Two shapely young women
in butcher aprons smiled at the door as he was led out of the van
by the guards, his quite hefty cock swinging in full view to his
utter humiliation. The butcher girls knew the drill, the man was a
dangerous sex offender and the guards would not leave until the man
was safely strapped onto the butcher block, which also doubled as a
trolley. The girls strapped the man onto the block so that he was
spread-eagled, placed a ball gag in his mouth, and showed the
guards to the door. It was obvious the guards wanted to see the
girls 'finish him' and go to work on him - but the butcher girls,
the black haired Katrin and the sylph-like red-head Megan were
working against the clock. The guests would soon be here and there
was work to be done.
They began by washing the man down and then shaving his body
hair - including his groin. Megan held his cock aloft as Katrin
shaved around his balls and cock. Booth had not had sexual relief
for some time, despite his situation, or perhaps because of it -
the almost inevitable happened and his large penis began to engorge
with blood. "Ooooh!!", cooed Katrin as she expertly moved the razor
around his cock and balls. "Mind you don't cut it off - yet!",
retorted Megan, as she watched his cock come to a full throbbing
erection between her grasping fingers. Katrin mischievously played
the razor around the root of the now solid shaft, "Should make a
nice hot-dog, eh Megan! Ketchup or Mustard?!" The women giggled and
laughed aloud as the banter continued. All the while, Booth's
erection was pulled around by Megan's coarsely teasing hand.
Once the shaving was done, Katrin turned about and headed for
a table at the edge of the kitchen. As she walked across the room
Booth noticed that she was virtually naked beneath her apron! She
appeared to be wearing a thong of some kind, which disappeared into
the crack of her full and shapely bottom - and simple gym-style
shoes on her feet. She reached for a long bladed knife, hanging on
the wall above the table. Booth looked down to the ground and
noticed channels in the floor - blood channels? "Christ!", thought
Booth. His time really had come, yet it was all still so unreal,
like a bad dream - as his brain put up it's last defence mechanism
in the face of certain death. All the while Megan played with his
cock, keeping it hard. "Pity to waste such a nice big erection, eh
Katrin?", she said, sounding genuinely disappointed. "Let's have a
laugh." Megan squeezed the root of his cock, making it go still
harder and waggled it obscenely. She was also ensuring the big hard
on did not go down. Katrin approached with her knife, her firm
breasts bulging at the top of her apron - cruel thoughts cascading
through her mind as she eyed the rock hard erection and it's
bulging plum. "Shall we cut the sausage off first!", she teased,
amazed at the man's randiness considering his situation.
Megan continued, "How about seeing if he can make some
mayonnaise first?" as she continued to jack him with her
insistently pumping hand. Katrin wondered if she should fetch a hot
dog bread roll to put his cock in, then dismissed the thought -
they didn't have all night. 'Could he come?', Katrin wondered
incredulously, she certainly wasn't going to wait. Perhaps he was
some kind of S & M fetishist….. No matter, he had to be prepared
for the oven and she might as well start with his cock, whether it
was erect or not. A big erect cock would just give her more to hang
on to while she cut it off. Megan kept pumping, even as Katrin's
knife moved in start it's work. Just then the kitchen door swung
open and a large matronly woman in her forties burst in. Megan's
hand flew away from the hard cock as if it were red hot and she
positioned herself in the way so that Mrs Turner the main Chef
couldn't see what they had been doing. "Goodness girls, am I in
time - they've arrived early and Mrs Briggs wants her daughter to
make the kill - out in the restaurant - come on girls - we've
another sitting tonight - let's get him out there and have done
with it. Then we'll wheel him straight back in and get him in the
oven. Come on!"
Katrin and Megan looked at each other sheepishly, shrugged
and then pushed the trolley block towards the swing doors which led
into the restaurant - as Mrs Turner swept on ahead. The girls both
hoped the man's cock would go down to avoid any trouble. "Come on
girls, come on…" Mrs Turner allowed no time for respite. The lights
of the restaurant shone brightly onto the trio of women and their
tightly bound man-meat on his butcher-block trolley. Katrin and
Megan chose not to look at him, they looked ahead to the table in
the centre of the restaurant, around which sat five expectant
women, their ages ranging from 18 to 45. They had already started
the wine. The 18 year old was the first to spot the man's still
rampant sexual excitement, it wasn't difficult - Booth was a full 8
1/2 inches in erection. The scantily clad girl stood and gasped as
they arrived at the table, "Mother!" she exclaimed involuntarily.
Her delight was obvious. Mrs Turner swung round and noticed for the
first time. Her initial surprise was quickly replaced by quick
professional response. "Good grief ladies, I think it's his nerves -
it does happen in some males. Would you like us to return to the
kitchen and deal with it?" She tried to appear matter-of-fact,
though was acutely aware it could cause offence. In her mind, she
quickly mulled over what she would do to get rid of the erection -
probably a vicious squeezing of his balls as soon as she was in the
kitchen, and perhaps a few very hard strikes across the thick shaft
with a kitchen spatula to help it along.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the mother of the girl, an
attractive 43 year old woman, a wealthy and influential member of
the new society. "Don't worry about that Mrs Turner, it's time my
daughter saw the lustful object that drives so many men to
despicable crimes. We'll deal with his lustfulness ourselves!" She
turned to her daughter, "Angela, take the knife from the butcher
girl there, I want you to cut that 'John Thomas' off him - for all
we know he may have raped girls of your age with it." She paused
briefly. "But first take off your dress girl, that cost me a small
fortune." The girl was clearly embarrassed and started to
blush. "Don't be silly girl! We're all girls together here. If
you're that embarrassed, we'll join you. Come on ladies!" With
that, first the mother and then the girl's 45 year old Aunt and her
two older sisters started to unzip their dresses and placed them
carefully on an adjacent table. The girl soon followed to reveal an
athletic young figure covered now only by a skimpy white bra and
some equally skimpy white knickers which were almost a thong. The
butcher girls locked off the trolley wheels and pulled out some
steel trays near the base, they were designed to catch the blood
and channel it cleverly into a receptacle underneath the block. The
girl's mother mercilessly goaded her daughter. "Go on girl, get
hold of it, it won't bite!" Her female relatives sniggered, whilst
the butcher girls Megan and Katrin breathed a quiet sigh of relief
that their indiscretion of teasing the males penis had been
forgotten.
Booth could see the girl's figure as she approached him,
bizarrely his cock would not go down despite his fear. She grasped
it, it felt good, strong but silky skinned. She pulled it towards
her, it resisted her, she pulled some more - Booth groaned. Mrs
Briggs, the girls mother, was enjoying herself. "Just a minute
girl, you don't want to do it like that. Get up on the trolley and
get a proper grip of it." She called to her eldest daughter,
herself only 23 years old, "Belinda, lend a hand would you."
Belinda, wearing a stunning set of black underwear sauntered over,
much to her still seated sister's jealousy. Angela gingerly climbed
onto the low trolley while her mother instructed her to straddle
the man's chest. Booth was treated to an eyeful of her femininity
as she did so - her almost naked pert round bottom and her thong-
like knickers allowing him to briefly see her exposed (and excited)
vaginal lips pouting either side of the thong. Mr Briggs instructed
her older daughter Belinda to pull on the man's balls, reminding
her that "We'll have those next Belinda."
Angela was moving the now incredibly even harder erection
this way and that as she nervously gripped the knife, wondering
what to do next. Her mother interjected, "I'll hold onto that
Angela, you get ready with the knife." Mrs Briggs grabbed the
erection and moved it around whilst subtly pumping it, her large
brassiered breasts bouncing gently as she did so. Angela naively
wondered what she was doing. The cock seemed to be pointing at her,
the other ladies secretly smirked. Booth's senses were inflamed,
his brain boiled with the lust of a man beyond caring about
anything except the sensations in his cock. All around him he could
see, feel or smell female flesh and excitement. The women were
abandoned now, crowding in, wanting to see the big cock and the
knife in Angela's hand. "Gnnnnnn!", Booth grunted through his ball
gag. Mrs Briggs pointed the solid cock mischievously at her
daughters virginal young breasts moments before Booth's violently
erect cock squirted a great thick loop of sperm up onto the girls
pert breasts. Her mother reacted instantly, spurring her daughter
out of her momentary shock. "Go on girl, cut it, cut it off!" Mrs
Briggs dug her fingers into the thick pulsing shaft and pulled it
towards her daughter even as another great gout of sperm jerked out
onto her daughter's belly and knickered crotch. Angela's mouth was
set with determination as she began cutting into the base of the
thick shaft even while the man was still ejaculating. The man's
body bucked and quivered as though he were being electrocuted as
Angela applied the knife to his manly parts. The women were amazed
to see the cock still pulsing and hard as it came away, and blood
and briefly sperm pulse from the root of where the cock had been.
His big hefty balls were soon severed and came away into Belinda's
eagerly waiting hand.
Hoots of semi-drunken laughter, clapping and ribald comments
rang throughout the restaurant as Booth slipped into oblivion. The
Butcher girls moved in and made sure the 'meat' was fully killed.
The still quivering corpse was wheeled back to the kitchen for
cooking, along with his severed manhood which was to be prepared as
an hors d'ouvre strictly for the birthday girl's pleasure…..
[Return To The Eunuch
Archive](http://web.archive.org/web/20090802071012/http://www.bmeworld.com/eunuch/index2.htm) |
||
Kybele | TESTICLES | A man is sick of his manhood and seeks help from castrating women. | **Kybele
**
Tagebucheintragung von Attila am 28. September
Begonnen hatte es, glaube ich, mit diesem Gefühl von Ekel, das sich immer
häufiger und immer unmissverständlicher einstellte, wenn ich mich den
geschlechtlichen Dingen zuwandte. Erst ganz unmerklich, als ein Widerstand
mich zu rasieren, zum Beispiel. Oder die Abscheu vor meinem eigenen
Körpergeruch. Zunächst hatte es mich nicht beunruhigt. Schließlich werde auch
ich älter. Aber es war da, dieses Gefühl, wie ein Fremdkörper, der immer
weniger ignoriert werden konnte und in Phasen nachlassender Geschäftigkeit,
wie lauernd, auf sich aufmerksam machte. Diese Phasen waren für einen Mann wie
mich natürlich schon immer sehr kurz gewesen. Ein Macher kennt wenig
Müßiggang. Mein Privatleben war der Regeneration untergeordnet. Meine
Partnerinnen hatten das zu spüren bekommen, wenigstens in den Zeiten, als ich
außer meiner Frau noch welche hatte. Doch dies alles ist nun schon eine Weile
her. Wenn ich darüber nachdenke, kommt es mir wie eine andere Welt vor. Als ob
die Menschen damals eine ganz andere Sprache gesprochen hätten, ganz anderen
Gesetzen unterworfen gewesen wären. Dies stimmt natürlich alles nicht ganz.
Äußerlich hatte sich nichts grundsätzlich geändert. Außer mir natürlich. Ich
war es, der begonnen hatte, die Dinge anders zu sehen. Aber aus welchem Grund?
Aus welchem Antrieb? Lohnt es sich überhaupt über solche Dinge nachzudenken?
Was bringt die Grübelei, wenn eine Veränderung in Besitz nimmt, wenn das
Bisherige sich immer mehr verunmöglicht, der Gang der Dinge einfach nicht mehr
will. Dabei war es nicht etwa so gewesen, dass mein Wille nachgelassen hätte.
Ganz und gar nicht. Aber irgendetwas war an mich herangetreten, oder vielmehr
in meine Sphäre eingedrungen und wollte nicht wieder weichen, sondern gewann
immer mehr an Raum. Es begannen sich Dinge in Frage zu stellen, die kurze Zeit
zuvor noch unumstößlich gewesen waren. Und dann begannen jene Veränderungen
sich anzubahnen, die mich mehr und mehr verunsicherten. Vorsichtig einen Fuß
nach dem anderen auf Neuland setzen. Das war nicht leicht für einen, der für
sein Selbstbewusstsein bekannt war. Ich weiß noch, wie ich damals das erste
Mal wieder onaniert hatte. Ein auf sich selbst Zurückgeworfensein das mit dem
bekannten Selbstekel endete. „Streuen“ hatte ich es genannt, wenn ich mein
Süppchen in eine jener fraulichen Körperhöhlen ergoss, die danach sehen
konnten wie sie mit den Folgen zurechtkamen. In diesem Sinn war der Gebrauch
einer Vagina nichts anderes als eine notwendige Entladung. Mein Interesse an
der Eignerin dieses Körperteils war damit auch erschöpft, und ich war mir
sicher, man würde mir meine Gereiztheit verzeihen, sollte das Weib weitere
Aufmerksamkeit fordern. Andererseits war das Interesse damit nicht für immer
befriedigt, und so kann ich auf eine stattliche Reihe von Spalten
zurückblicken, die von meinem beträchtlichen Heißhunger auf diesem Gebiet mehr
oder weniger willig geöffnet wurden. In einzelnen Fällen musste ich dafür
bezahlen. Sicher, ich gehöre nicht zu denen, die dies herunterspielen. Meine
Liebe zu dieser Zunft der Frauen hielt sich allerdings in Grenzen. Aber wer
die Macht des Triebes beim Mann kennt und weiß, wie schnell sie sich mit
Unbeherrschtheit verbinden kann, der wird mir Recht geben, wenn ich sage, es
ist gut, dass es diese Frauen gibt. Trotzdem hielten sich meine Besuche in
diesem Milieu von je her in Grenzen, vielleicht, weil es meinen Stolz zu sehr
verletzte für etwas wie ein hohles Nichts Geld auszugeben. Nein, wenn ich es
mir recht überlege, konnten gerade die Damen der Nacht mir nicht das bieten,
was ich so sehr genoss: die willkürliche Verfügung über jenen Hort der Frau,
der ihr wohl das wertvollste war. Oft war meine Lust erst gerade dann
gestillt, wenn ich mein Opfer – dieses Wort war in meinen Augen an sich schon
eine unzulässig positive Wertung – erkannte, dass sein Widerstand der Urgewalt
meines Wollens unmöglich standhalten konnte. Gerne erinnerte ich mich in
diesem Zusammenhang an Galina, das Kindermädchen eines Freundes, bei dem ich
mehrere Monate zu Gast wohnte, weil ich in dieser Zeit einer eigenen
Unterkunft entbehrte. Sie war eine stämmige, aber in ihrem Gesicht durchaus
hübsche Osteuropäerin von gut zwanzig Jahren und hütete schon mehrer Monate
die drei Kinder meines Freundes. Sie sprach sehr wenig, und mehr als dass sie
eigentlich Lehrerin hätte werden wollen, hatte niemand aus ihrer Vergangenheit
je erfahren. Meinen zunächst durchaus höflichen Annäherungen war sie beständig
ausgewichen, doch ich hatte ihrer schlichten Tugend nie getraut. Als mein
Freund und ich eines Abends auf sie zu sprechen kamen, vertraute er mir ein
Geheimnis an. Er hatte Galina mit einem jungen Mann in dem Raum erwischt in
dem im Winter die Gartengeräte abgestellt werden. Der Liebhaber war verlegen
murmelnd davongeschlichen, während mein Freund Galina streng zur Rede stellte.
Doch er sparte sich lange Ermahnungen, deutete nur kurz an, dass eine weitere
Zusammenarbeit sehr schwierig werden würde, sollte er gezwungen sein, den
Vorfall der Frau des Hauses zu melden. Gleichzeitig öffnete er seine Hose und
führt die Hand seiner Angestellten an sein geschwollenes Glied. Ohne
nennenswertes Zögern, so schilderte mir mein Freund den Fortgang des
Geschehens, entpuppte sich Galina als eine begnadete Mundfotze, die
schmatzend, schnaufend und schließlich schluckend ihrem Herrn zu Diensten war.
Das Gespräch mit meinem Freund nahm jedoch eine ernüchternde Wendung als ich
mich vertraulich zu ihm hin beugte und nach intimen Details bezüglich Galinas
Körper fragte. Mein Freund, den ich so noch gar nicht kennen gelernt hatte,
schlug wütend mit der Hand auf den Tisch und fuhr mich grob an, ob ich einem
dreifachen Familienvater eine solche Unsittlichkeit wirklich zutrauen würde.
Es kostete mich erhebliche Mühe, meine Frage nachträglich als unpassenden Spaß
darzustellen. Wenige Tage später fand ich Galina in der Waschküche. Mir fiel
auf, wie üppig sie unter ihrem einfachen Kleid war. Ich ging geradewegs auf
sie zu und fasste ihr fest zwischen die Beine. Sie war wütend und wollte etwas
sagen, aber ich verpasste ihr das erste Mal eine jener Ohrfeigen, die sie für
den Rest ihrer Arbeit in diesem Hause so fürchten würde. Dann kippte ich einen
Korb frisch gewaschener Wäsche auf den Boden und zog ihr Kleid hoch. Sie
wehrte sich kaum. Als ich ihr Höschen herunterzog, konnte ich ihr helles
Schamhaar sehen. Ich drehte sie auf den Rücken, kniete mich zwischen ihre
gespreizten Beine und öffnete meine Hose. Schluchzend blickte sie starr zur
Seite, dann, als ich in das trockene Rosa eindrang, zuckte sie etwas zusammen.
Bald, nach weniger als einem Dutzend Stößen, kam es mir. Mein Gesicht in ihr
langes blondes Haar vergraben, genoss ich meine Entladung. Schubweise entwich
der aufgestaute Druck. Was seit Wochen in meinen Männerhoden reifte, fiel auf
einen ungeschützten Acker, wie ich etwa ein Jahr später erfuhr. Ich blieb auf
ihr liegen bis mein drittes Auge nur noch tropfte, dann stand ich auf, wischte
an einem herumliegenden Kleidungsstück mein Glied ab und ließ sie liegen. Wenn
ich heute an diese Dinge zurückdenke, empfinde ich keine übermäßige Schuld
oder Scham. Diese Ereignisse sind für mich inzwischen vielmehr Stationen auf
einem Weg zu mir selbst. Ich habe beschlossen, das Übel an der Wurzel zu
packen und mich von dem Kleinod – eigentlich sind es ja zwei – zu trennen,
welches mir unzweifelhaft die Ursache zu sein scheint. Mein Weg zu diesem
Beschluss war weit. Er fiel mir nicht leicht. Ihm gingen unzählige Versuche
der Mäßigung, des sittlichen Ringens voraus. Aber jetzt ist er unwiderruflich,
und ich sehne nichts so sehr herbei wie den Tag an dem der Schnitt getan ist.
Ein weiterer Galloi will seine blutige Tonscherbe vor dem Thron der Kybele
niederlegen. Es ist höchste Zeit für mich. Als ob der ekstatische Tanz
unmittelbar seinem Höhepunkt entgegen geht. Anders als in antiker Zeit, bin
ich in keiner Gruppe Gleichgesinnter aufgehoben. Ich bin zwar der einzige
Entschlossene, doch ich bin auch wieder nicht allein. Eine Gruppe von Frauen
hat mich vorbereitet und wird das letzte Stück des Weges mit mir gehen. Ich
bin ihnen dankbar. Sie sind meinem Wankelmut in jeder Phase meiner Entwicklung
entgegengetreten, haben mit ihren Erzählungen meine Stimmung aufgehellt, wenn
mir Zweifel kamen. Sie haben sich mir als Frauen auf eine Art gezeigt, die ich
zuvor nicht kannte, die ich vielleicht nicht einmal für möglich gehalten
hatte. Ich habe mich ihnen unterworfen. Zuerst mit Vorsicht und
Rückzugsmöglichkeiten, dann immer williger und schließlich bedingungslos.
Davon will ich hier erzählen. Und am besten ich beginne ganz am Anfang. Dieser
Ekel, von dem ich schon sprach, erst war es ein unbestimmtes Gefühl, fast eine
vorübergehende Laune. Doch diese Empfindung ging nicht vorüber. Im Gegenteil.
Sie wurde stärker und gleichzeitig immer eindeutiger. Schon nach wenigen Tage
war mir mein Geschlecht so zu wider, dass ich es nur mit größtem Widerwillen
berühren konnte. Ich begann mein kleines Geschäft wie eine Frau im Sitzen zu
verrichten und mich in diesem Bereich zwanghaft zu waschen. Über eine
Beschneidung brauchte ich nicht nachdenken, kam ich doch aus einem Land in dem
diese am achten Tag nach der Geburt gesetzlich vorgeschrieben war. Die Abscheu
blieb und wurde noch intensiver. In dieser Zeit gab ich eine Anzeige in einer
feministischen Monatszeitung auf: Hodenträger sucht Kybeles Rat, oder so
ähnlich. Es kamen etliche Antworten. Die meisten davon hatten mich
missverstanden. Ein Brief kam gar von einer Frau, die tatsächlich Kybele hieß.
Bei einem Schreiben jedoch wusste ich sofort, dass es ernst gemeint war. Es
war mit Adah unterschrieben und enthielt neben einem Zeitpunkt eine genaue
Adressangabe. Als ich es in meinen Händen hielt begann ich zu zittern. Ich las
es mehr als hundert Mal. Jedes Wort, jeden Schriftzug untersuchte ich bis ins
Kleinste. Ich brauchte nicht lange hin und her zu denken. Ich wusste sofort,
dass ich mich zur angegebenen Zeit in jenem Vorort melden würde. Und ich war
mir sicher, dass man mich dort längst erwartet hatte. Das war der Ort an dem
man mich verstehen würde. Daran gibt es für mich keinen Zweifel. Ich war in
den letzten Tagen sehr unruhig. In meinem Kopf wirbelt es nur so von
Vorstellungen, Wünschen und Bedenken.
Tagebucheintragung von Attila am 2. Oktober
Ein Angsttraum weckte mich heute Morgen und lies mich lange Zeit ohne Schlaf:
In einer Gefängniszelle sitzt eine junge, mir unbekannte, Frau. Ein Mann
öffnet die Zellentür. Dann bekomme ich das Gesicht des Mannes zu sehen. Seine
Augäpfel sind zerschnitten, sein Gesicht ist blutig. Den ganzen Tag schon
versuche ich den Traum zu deuten. Als Kind las ich ein Buch von Jules Verne,
das eine Blendung enthielt. Die Verfilmung lief auch im Fernsehen. Aber der
Held bekam sein Augenlicht zurück, und die Geschichte hatte mich nicht
allzusehr berührt. Anders Ödipus. Er blendet sich selbst, nachdem er sein
tragisches Schicksal erfährt. Von seiner Tochter und gleichzeitig Schwester
geführt, beschließt er sein Leben. Mir fällt eine ehemalige Liebhaberin ein,
die mir Folgendes über eine Reise nach Griechenland erzählte: Mit zwei anderen
Personen, die ihr nur flüchtig bekannt waren, wird sie vom Zoll aufgegriffen.
Einer der Drei hatte Drogen im Gepäck. Wie sie sagte, war sie unschuldig und
hatte nicht die geringste Ahnung. Die Nacht vor ihrer Ausweisung musste sie in
einer Einzelzelle verbringen. Dann kam der Wärter und hat mich einfach
genommen, sagte sie damals leise. Ich bekam sofort eine Erektion. Diese ganz
gewöhnliche Fotze, die mir eigentlich nur zur gelegentlichen Libidoabfuhr
diente, verwandelte sich für mich von einem Augenblick zum anderen in ein
wahres Kultobjekt. Sanft strich ich mit meinen Fingern über die feuchte
Spalte. Sie hatte dem drängenden Verlangen eines Mannes nichts entgegensetzen
können, hatte sich willig geöffnet für einen, der vergaß zu fragen. Nichts
konnte meine Lüsternheit noch bremsen. Ich drang in sie ein, und nach wenigen
Stößen schon spritzte ich meinen Samen in ihre Tuben. Das wiederholte sich an
diesem Abend noch zwei Mal. Ich konnte gar nicht genug bekommen, von dieser
entweihten Kiste. Das klaffende Loch unter ihrem dunklen Schamhaar hatte mir
sein Geheimnis anvertraut. Es war etwas geschehen mit ihm, das sich nicht mehr
löschen ließ in dieser Nacht in der Zelle. Es hatte eine neue Bedeutung
bekommen. Sein Stolz war unwiederbringlich dahin. So könnte man den Traum also
deuten: Die Blendung als Sinnbild der Kastration des Täters. In mir scheint
ein Gewissen zu erwachen, das ich früher nicht kannte.
Tagebucheintragung von Attila am 7. Oktober
Ich war dort. Am frühen Nachmittag hatte ich mich aufgemacht. Die Adresse
entpuppte sich als ein unauffälliges Anwesen in der Vorstadt. Adah empfing
mich sehr freundlich. Eigentlich hatte ich sie mir ganz anders vorgestellt.
Keine Spur von Bitterkeit war zu erkennen. Als sie mir gegenüber saß, kam sie
mir vor, wie ein Relikt der Zeit der Blumenkinder. Von ihrem jugendlichen
Alter her, war dies nicht möglich. Aber ihre Kleidung und die unkonventionelle
Art, wie sie sich benahm, ließen diesen Eindruck entstehen. Zunächst fiel es
mir nicht leicht, über mein Anliegen zu sprechen. Ich beließ es bei vagen
Andeutungen über die Notwendigkeit von Anpassungen der männlichen Rolle an
veränderte frauliche Erwartungen, und sie antwortete lächelnd, dass diese
Anpassungen oftmals längst überfällig wären. Doch sie gab mir auch zu
bedenken, dass eine solche Wandlung ein tief greifender Eingriff sei. Nichts
sei dann mehr wie es einmal war. Andererseits vergaß sie nicht die große
Dankbarkeit zu erwähnen, mit der schon einige andere Männer die Hilfe ihres
Hauses in Anspruch genommen hätten. Vielen von ihnen sei es kaum anders
ergangen als mir. Genau genommen, meinte sie, könne man von einem allgemeinen
Übel sprechen. Was in vorzivilisatorischer Zeit ein biologische Notwendigkeit
gewesen sei, wäre heutzutage nur noch eine Belastung von sowohl Mann als auch,
wenn auch in schon fast unerträglichem Maße, Frau. Sie wirkte sehr sensibel,
beinahe zerbrechlich, und ich konnte es nicht unterlassen immer wieder einen
verstohlenen Blick auf ihre zarten Hände zu werfen. Dann breitete sich wieder
dieses Gefühl des Selbstekels in mir aus, und ich begann, etwas direkter auf
das zu sprechen zu kommen, das mich zu ihr führte. Ruhig und verständnisvoll
hörte sie sich meine Lebensgeschichte an, stellte nur hier und da einzelne
Fragen. Ich weiß nicht woran es lag, aber ich gewann den Eindruck, dass sie
über mich schon bestens Bescheid wüsste. Wir waren uns einig, dass mein
Transformationsprozess eine Vielzahl von Sitzungen erfordern würde, und dass
es sicherlich kein Fehler wäre, bald damit zu beginnen. Adah wirkte nun sehr
kompetent, ohne dass ich die geringste Ahnung hatte, was mir bevorstehen
würde. Die meisten meiner Fragen wickelte sie mit einem unverbindlichen
Lächeln ab. Nur einmal ließ sie, wie nebenbei, erkennen, dass noch zwei
weitere Frauen in unsere gemeinsame Arbeit miteinbezogen werden würden. Zum
Ende hin wechselten wieder meine Gefühle, und jenes Verlangen, das ich doch so
zu verabscheuen begann, ergriff wieder Besitz von mir. Wie sie vor mir saß,
mit ihrer blond-braunen Löwenmähne und ihren sicherlich wunderschönen Brüsten!
Ich hätte viel dafür gegeben, einen Blick auf jene Spalte werfen zu dürfen,
die im Umgang mit Frauen schon immer den Inbegriff meines Begehrens ausgemacht
hatte. Sie schien dies bemerkt zu haben und beendete abrupt das Gespräch. Es
war mir erlaubt, einen Antrag auf eine erste Begegnung mit allen drei Frauen
zu stellen. Sie würden mir dann einen Termin zukommen lassen. Wäre ich auch
nur eine Minute unpünktlich, so sei meine Transformation unwiderruflich
abgebrochen.
Tagebucheintragung von Attila am 8. Oktober
Meine Gedanken sind nur noch bei Adah. Ich komme gar nicht mehr von ihr los.
Wie sich das Bild einer Frau so mit psychischer Energie aufladen kann! Es ist
schon das dritte Mal an diesem Tag, dass sich meine Leidenschaft für sie mit
jenem unaussprechlichen Laster verbindet, dem fast alle Männer unterworfen
sind. Zu konzentrierte Arbeit heute morgen nicht mehr fähig, wanderte ich
ziellos durch meine Wohnung, bis ich bereit war den Druck anzuerkennen und
mich auf jenen schwarzen Ledersessel setzte, der mir dafür gewöhnlich am
geeignetsten gilt. Ich knöpfte meine Hose auf und zog sie bis an die Knöchel
hinunter. Langsam blickte ich an mir hinab. Mein Schwanz ist leicht gekrümmt,
wenn er steht. Und wie er mir stand! Eigentlich ist diese Krümmung mehr eine
Drehung. Wenn man ihn an der Wurzel in die Horizontale drückt, biegt sich der
vieladrige Zylinder leicht nach links. Ich betrachtete lange die dicke Vene in
der Mitte des Schaftes. Etwa in der Mitte macht sie eine Kehrtwendung und
verschwindet dann im Inneren. Die Spitze des Rammbocks ist nicht breiter als
der Stängel an seiner dicksten Stelle. Ich zog die Haut ganz nach unten um die
Kragenfalte verschwinden zu lassen. Wenn die Schwellung so stark ist wie
jetzt, verfärbt sich das Köpfchen leicht violett. Das Auge der eingekerbten
Erdbeere blickte mich feucht an. Bald würde sich aus ihm jener erste Spritzer
Kaffeemilch lösen, der sich mit der Erlösung Bahn bricht. Dann kommen in
mehreren Wellen die schweren, klebrigen Sahneergüsse. Sie spritzen nicht
wirklich, sondern schaffen sich Schub für Schub aus der Tiefe heraus. Ich
atmete das esoterische Duftsubstrat, das ich dem Jojobaöl beigemischt hatte
und betrachtete den Pflaumenbeutel zwischen meinen Beinen. Wie empfindlich die
schweren Ziegel auf jeden Druck meiner Finger reagierten. Lästige Steine, die
mich zum Sklaven ihrer Hormone machen. Ich halte eine unerträgliche Last in
meiner Hand von der ich mich nicht allein befreien kann. Dann fiel mir wieder
Adah ein, und ich dachte an ihre zierlichen Hände. Würden sie es sein, die
jene Seile kappten, an denen dieses Übel hing? Beim Gedanken an Adah ging es
sehr schnell. Ich musste nicht einmal an ihren Körper denken. Eine Erinnerung
an ihr wissendes Lächeln, ihren freien Blick und es war, als brächen alle
Dämme. Ich wusch mir meine verkleisterten Finger und ordnete meine Kleidung.
Für kurze Zeit war ich nun wieder Herr meiner Sinne. Aber ich war mir sicher:
Adah würde eine Ewigkeit daraus machen.
Tagebucheintragung von Attila am 14. Oktober
Heute war die zweite Sitzung. Als ich zum Haus kam war die Tür nur angelehnt.
Zögernd trat ich ein. Das Anwesen schien völlig verlassen zu sein. Meine
zaghaften Rufe verhallten ungehört. Ich suchte nach dem Raum, in dem ich mich
mit Adah getroffen hatte, doch alles war so verändert. Wo ich mich an Gänge
und Treppen erinnerte, waren nun Türen. Keine von ihnen ließ sich öffnen. War
alles nur ein Scherz gewesen? War ich mit meinem, in der Tat, ungewöhnlichen
Ansinnen auf einen Ulk hereingefallen? Dann hörte ich Schritte. Ein
merkwürdiger alter Mann, in einen dunklen Mantel gehüllt, trat aus dem Dunkel
hervor. Er starrte mich eine Weile an, dann verschwand er wieder in die
Richtung aus der er gekommen war. Es mochte etwa eine halbe Stunde vergangen
sein, ohne dass ich auch nur ein einziges Mal auf den Gedanken kam, wieder
nach Hause zu gehen, als eine Frau langsam auf mich zukam. Es war Adah. Stumm
stand sie vor mir. Ich folgte ihr in einen kleinen Raum und begann mich auf
ihr Geheiß hin zu entkleiden. Es sei nun an der Zeit, mich den anderen
vorzustellen, sagte sie, nahm meine Kleider und schloss die Tür hinter sich.
Als ich an meinem Körper hinab sah, erfasste mich zum ersten Mal in meinem
Leben das Gefühl der Unzulänglichkeit. Beschämt stand ich da. Ein ungewohntes
Gefühl für jemand wie mich, der im täglichen Umgang für seine vulgäre Art und
unverschämte Übergriffigkeit bekannt ist. Von Zeit zu Zeit liebte ich es,
andere Menschen, vor allem Frauen, mit meiner offensiven Körperlichkeit in
Verlegenheit zu bringen. Aber jetzt war das irgendwie anders. Ich richtete
meinen Blick auf eine gerahmte Fotographie an der Wand. Ein antikes Relief
zeigt eine Frau auf einem Thron. Zu ihren Füßen ein großes Tier, es könnte
eine Raubkatze sein. Sie hat etwas in ihrer Hand, das sie sich wie einen
Spiegel vors Gesicht hält. Etwas riss mich aus meinen Gedanken. Es war Adah,
die mir ein kleines Seidentuch reichte. Ich gebrauchte es, um meine Blöße zu
bedecken und folgte ihr eine steinerne Wendeltreppe hinab. Die Stufen
erschienen mir endlos. Dann traten wir in das Gewölbe ein. Es war dunkel -
stockfinstere Nacht. Ich rief nach Adah, aber von ihr kam keine Antwort mehr.
Ein kleines Licht ging an. Vor mir stand eine dunkelhaarige, große Frau. Sie
war völlig unbekleidet und mein Blick senkte sich von ihren schweren Brüsten
über das schwarze Dreieck hinab zu ihren Füßen. Es war Bathscheba, wie ich
später erfuhr. Schweigend blickte sie mich lange an. Etwas, ich kann nicht
sagen was für eine Kraft, zog mich zu Boden auf meine Knie. Das Verlangen,
mein Gesicht zwischen diesen Schenkel zu vergraben, überkam mich. Ich traute
mich nicht. Ich blickte nur stumm in dieses weibliche Geheimnis. Mit einer
Hand schob sie sanft meinen Kopf näher an sich heran und ließ mich ihren
Geruch kosten. Erst waren es nur einzelne Tröpfchen, die meine Wangen
benetzten wie Tränen. Dann öffnete sich das Quell dieses Gartens immer weiter.
Goldener Regen aus einem geöffneten Schleusentor. Unerschöpfliche Fluten, die
immer wieder zu versiegen drohten, nur um dann noch viel reißender als zuvor
anzuschwellen. Ein ungelenker Strahl, sich hebend und senkend, sich teilend,
zweistromig sich auffächernd. Dankend blickte ich auf. Ernst und stumm sah sie
mich an.
Tagebucheintragung von Attila am 16. Oktober
Dieser elende Druck, der mich nicht ruhen lässt. Stundenlang zog ich durch die
herunter gekommensten Gegenden der Stadt. Mir geht durch den Sinn, dass es
klinisch sein könnte. Satyriasis nennt man das, soviel ich weiß, das männliche
Gegenstück zur Nymphomanie. In eine Bar, die vorschriftsmäßig ihre
Getränkekarte mit den Preisen ausgehängt hat, kehre ich ein. Ich bestelle ein
Pils. Eine der Damen gesellt sich zu mir. Ab einer Flasche Sekt würde sie sich
mit mir ins Separée begeben. Was dort dann passiert darf sie angeblich nicht
sagen. Das ganze riecht nach Nepp. Mit ein paar freundlichen Worten wickle ich
ab, trinke aus und gehe hinaus. Wenige Straßen weiter steht ziellos eine
kräftige Blonde auf dem Gehsteig. Wir sehen uns kurz an, dann geht sie langsam
weiter. Vor dem Schaufenster eines der ausländischen Reisebüros bleibt sie
stehen. Ich spreche sie von hinten an. Sie willigt ein und durch einen
schmuddeligen Hauseingang führt sie mich auf ihr Zimmer. Ich gebe ihr das Geld
und ziehe mich aus, während sie mit irgendetwas am Waschbecken beschäftigt
ist. Als ich mich wieder nach ihr umdrehe, ist sie immer noch angekleidet.
Wenn mein Zusammensein mit den Frauen so weit vorangeschritten ist, pflege ich
sehr ordinär mit ihnen zu reden. Es gefällt mir, ihnen jetzt meine Art zu
sprechen, zu handeln und zu fühlen aufzuzwingen. Ich will deine Fotze sehen,
sage ich. Muschischauen, wie sie es nennt, kostet extra. Dabei spricht sie mit
mir wie mit einem Kind. Gereiztheit kommt bei mir auf, die sich immer mehr in
Wut verwandelt. Sie hat ein plumpes Gesicht, aber der Körper scheint fest und
stämmig zu sein. Ich will deine Fotze sehen, wiederhole ich ruhig. Sie zieht
den Rock aus und legt ihn mit ihrer Bluse auf einen Stuhl neben dem Bett. Mit
dem Rücken zu mir öffnet sie ihren BH. Ich lege meine Hand auf ihre Schulter
und drehe sie herum. Es sind gute Brüste, groß, fest und mit breiten dunklen
Höfen. Eine davon nehme ich in meine rechte Hand und kneife den Nippel
zwischen Daumen und Zeigefinger. Dann weise ich sie an, sich mit gespreizten
Schenkeln auf die Bettkante zu setzen. Ihre Fotze sieht armselig aus: die
Schamlippen hängen ausgeleiert in einem struppigen blond brauen Pelz. Es gibt
Frauen deren Spalte nicht süßlich rosa ist, sondern dunkelbraun, fast schwarz.
Trotzdem bin ich in Laune auf diese Kiste. Mein Pint steht wie eine Eins. Der
Kanal fühlt sich samtig an. Er ist weit und lang, und in einem monotonen Takt
lasse ich mein Zepter aus- und einschwingen bis sich der Pfropfen löst, und
ein Sämann seine Arbeit tut, während ich mit meiner Hüfte ein letztes Mal Raum
fasse. Wieder weise ich sie an, sich mit gespreizten Beinen auf die Kante des
Bettes zu setzen. Es gibt nichts Faszinierenderes als eine besamte Möse. Meine
Dame weigert sich. Sie will erst das Extrageld. Das wird es von mir nicht
geben, und ich überlege mir einen Augenblick ihr ins Gesicht zu spucken, tue
es dann aber doch nicht. Wir stehen uns gegenüber. Sie fordert nochmals Geld,
während ich nur lächle. Du bist doch gut gekommen, flüstert sie vertraulich
und legt ihre Arme um meinen Hals. Meine tropfende Eichelspitze taucht einen
Augenblick in ihr raues Drahthaar, und wir sehen uns direkt in die Augen. Dann
explodiert etwas wie eine Granate zwischen meinen Beinen. Mein Oberkörper
neigt sich im Reflex nach vorne, während sie ihre Haltung wieder stabilisiert
und ihre Arme löst. Du verdammte Hure, kann ich noch hervorbringen, dann
breitet sich der Schmerz in meinem Unterleib immer mehr aus und nimmt mir den
Atem. In meinem Erbrochenen kam ich wieder zu mir. Ich frage mich, ob sie noch
lange zusah, wie ich mich schluchzend, wie ein Embryo, am Boden krümmte; ob
sie noch da war, als der Schmerz mir den letzten Rest von Beherrschung nahm,
und sich meine Blase öffnete.
Tagebucheintragung von Attila am 4. November
Auf der gestrigen Sitzung lernte ich Rahab, die Dritte im Bunde, kennen. Alles
war ganz anders als vor drei Wochen mit Bathscheba. Als ich zum Haus kam,
erwartete mich Adah schon. Sie erklärte mir, dass ich heute Zeuge des
monatlichen Mondtanzes werden würde. Ein archaisches Ritual aus der Zeit, als
die Große Göttin noch herrschte. Die weiße Wunde gilt hier als Zeichen von
Leben und Tod, als Metapher für die Veränderung und den Übergang. Mir fiel
auf, dass das Gewölbe diesmal besonders feierlich geschmückt war, und ich nahm
wie selbstverständlich zusammen mit Adah und Bathscheba an den verschiedenen
Meditationen und Tänzen teil, die der Begegnung mit Rahab vorausgingen. Sie
betrat den Raum im blütenweißen Gewand einer römischen Vestalin. Die beiden
anderen Frauen begleiteten sie zu einem großen schwarzen Naturstein, auf
dessen abgeflachter Oberfläche sie sich bequem niederließ. Wie mich Adah
eingangs angewiesen hatte, setzte ich mich zu ihren Füßen nieder und überließ
mich, wie sicherlich alle anderen auch, den melodiösen Klängen der
transzendenten Musik. Rahab war eine schlanke Brünette mit schulterlangem Haar
und einem sehr sinnlichen Blick. Ich setzte mich aufrecht, wie ein Yogi, auf
und schloss meine Augen. Die Musik änderte ihren Rhythmus, und als ich wieder
aufblickte hatte Rahab ihr Kleid bis an den Bauch angehoben. Der schwarze
Naturstein war an der Seite, die mir zugewandt war, wie eine Mondsichel
ausgehöhlt. Eine flache Schale stand unter Rahabs entblößtem Schoß, und was
ich in diesem Moment sah, gehört zu den schönsten Bildern meines Lebens. Unter
dem dichten dunklen Haar zeigte sich zunächst nur schemenhaft ihr feuchter
Spalt ab. Der Anblick erhielt eine kaum zu beschreibende Erhabenheit. Alles,
was über Jahrhunderte verteufelt worden war, was als schmutzig galt und
schamhaft versteckt werden musste, was als gefährlich und unrein abgetan
worden war, bekam seinen spirituellen Urglanz zurück. Es war sehr weiches
Haar, wie ich merkte, als ich mit meinen Lippen näher kam. Ich sog den Geruch
von rostigem Eisen in mich auf und wagte meine Zungenspitze vorsichtig in die
fließende Kluft zwischen ihren Schenkeln. Langsam, unter dem zarten Auf und Ab
meiner Zunge, öffnete sich ihre Yoni und gab eine ungewöhnlich große Klitoris,
umrahmt von prachtvollen Fleischlippen, frei. Meine Begierde, die, wie auch
bei den vorherigen Sitzungen, gestern keine Erfüllung fand, wuchs in dem Maße,
in dem sich dieser wunderbare Tempel meinem Mund öffnete. Mit einem Mal war
mir klar, dass diese göttliche Öffnung keine angst einflössende Vagina Dendata
war, sondern Sinnbild schöpferischem Lebens und tiefer, erhabener Lust. Ihr
Nass tropfte von meinem Kinn in die Schale unter meinem Gesicht, und ich
glaube es war Adah, die mich nach langer Zeit sanft zurück nahm und diese
Schale an meinen Mund setzte.
Tagebucheintragung Attilas am 12. Dezember
Es sind nun schon mehrere Wochen vergangen, ohne dass ich mit meinen drei
Therapeutinnen Kontakt gehabt hatte. Ich war mit meiner Frau zum Urlaub an die
Küste gefahren, und wie im Folgenden schnell klar werden wird, hatte sich
meine Rückkehr verzögert. Anders als in vergangenen Jahre hatten wir uns in
eine Pension eingemietet, die von einer älteren Dame geleitet wurden. Ihr Mann
sei Seemann, erzählte sie uns bei Gelegenheit, jedenfalls lebte sie während
der Saison mit ihren zwei Kindern und ihren Gästen allein im Haus. Ich hatte
die Suite im ersten Stock gemietet, doch bei unserer Ankunft verlangte die
Pensionsbesitzerin, ich möge auch das Zimmer im zweiten Stock bezahlen, da sie
es nicht einzeln vermieten könne. Da keine Aussicht auf eine andere
angemessene Unterkunft bestand, ging ich auf ihr Anliegen ein. Dabei spielte
auch die Überlegung eine Rolle, dass mir dieses Zimmer im Falle von
Streitereien mit meiner Frau, die leider nur allzu häufig der Fall waren, als
Wohnreserve dienen könnte. Doch schon nach wenigen Tagen kam die Wirtin mit
einem neuen Wunsch auf mich zu. Sie pflege dieses Zimmer, wenn es leer stehe,
als Unterkunft für ihre junge Angestellte zu nutzen. Ich kannte das junge Ding
bereits. Es war ein schüchternes, fünfzehnjähriges Mädchen, das die Zimmer
säuberte und das Frühstück servierte. Sie war nicht sonderlich schön, aber die
Tatsache, dass sie von ihrer Erscheinung her deutlich jünger wirkte als ihr
Alter, hatte schon am ersten Tag mein Interesse geweckt. Immer wenn sie das
Zimmer nutzen konnte, sparte sie sich den weiten Weg in die Stadt, wo sie bei
ihrem Vater wohnte. Zu meiner Enttäuschung schlug meine Frau der Wirtin ihre
Bitte ohne weitere Begründung aus. Doch schon bald hatte ich Gelegenheit dem
jungen Mädchen erste Komplimente zu machen, die sie errötend überhörte.
Nachdem meine Frau im Streit um eine Bagatelle abgereist war, kam ich ihr auf
einem Strandspaziergang näher. Großzügig erlaubte ich ihr im oberen Zimmer zu
übernachten und begann bei dieser Gelegenheit ihren Körper zu berühren. Sie
wies meine Zudringlichkeiten ab, ging jedoch auf mein Angebot ein, in jenem
Zimmer zu schlafen. In den folgenden Tagen kamen wir uns näher. Ich machte ihr
Geschenke, die sie zögernd entgegennahm und warb im Gespräch um ihr Vertrauen.
Sie erzählte mir daraufhin von ihrem schwierigen Verhältnis zu ihrem Vater,
und dass sie ihre Mutter seit Jahren nicht mehr gesehen hätte. Es schien mir,
dass sie über diese Probleme zum ersten Mal mit jemandem sprechen konnte, und
ich bemühte mich, ihr mit einfühlsamen Ratschlägen zu helfen. Sie begann nun,
meine Berührungen zu akzeptieren und küsste mich bei einer Gelegenheit auch
flüchtig, doch als ich ihr mein Glied zeigte, wandte sie sich empört ab und
drohte mir, der Wirtin davon zu erzählen. Ich brannte darauf, sie in ihrem
Zimmer zu besuchen, es schien mir jedoch als zu gefährlich. Ihr Schreien wäre
von der Pensionsbesitzerin mit Sicherheit gehört worden. So ging die Zeit
dahin, die Saison ging ihrem Ende entgegen, und alle anderen Gäste waren
bereits abgereist. Als ich aus geschäftlichen Gründen für zwei Tage wegfahren
musste, ließ ich das meiste meines Gepäcks zurück und bezahlte deshalb die
Zimmer weiter. Noch am Tag meiner Abreise entpuppte sich die Angelegenheit
jedoch als Flop, und als ich spät abends zur Pension zurückkehrte, war zu
meiner Überraschung nur die junge Angestellte zugegen. Die gnädige Frau sei
mit ihren Kindern zu Besuch bei Verwandten, erzählte sie mir, und ich lud sie
auf ein Glas Whiskey in meine Suite ein. Ganz zu Beginn meines Aufenthalts in
der Pension hatte ich sie einmal ein Stück auf ihrem Heimweg zu ihrem Vater
begleitet, und wir hatten an einer Strandbar gemeinsam einen Schnaps
getrunken. Ich versicherte ihr, wir würden nur reden, und schließlich willigte
sie ein. Sie trank gern, ließ sich nachschenken, und nach einer Weile konnte
ich sie dazu überreden, sich mit mir auf mein Bett zu legen. Ich fragte sie,
ob sie schon einen Freund gehabt hatte und glaubte ihr als sie dies verneinte.
Immer wieder schob sie meine Hände von sich, aber ich versprach ihr Alles und
Jedes, und endlich erlaubte sie mir ihre Möse zu streicheln. Ihre Klitoris war
erstaunlich gut entwickelt, und ich genoss es, wie sich ihr feuchter Muff
unter meinen Fingern schnell öffnete. Ich gelangte zwischen ihre Beine und
legte meine rotblau geschwollene Eichel an. Bitte nicht, bitte nicht,
flüsterte sie, dann schnappte sie kurz nach Luft als ich mit zwei kräftigen
Stößen in sie eindrang. Von dem langen Vorspiel war ich so erregt gewesen,
dass sich mein heißer Lebenssaft schon nach wenigen weiteren Stößen entlud.
Sie weinte leise und versuchte mich von ihr herunter zu schieben, dann begann
sie sich hektisch zwischen ihren Schenkeln zu waschen. Ich besah lächelnd
meinen siegreichen Schwanz, der sich ihren Schleier der Tugend gerade zur
Beute genommen hatte. Obwohl ich ihr gedroht hatte, ich würde der Wirtin alles
erzählen, sollte sie mir nicht nochmals zu Willen sein, verließ sie wortlos
den Raum. Am nächsten Morgen reiste ich ab.
Tagebucheintragung von Attila am 24. Januar
Es ist geschehen. Ich bin erlöst. Das phrygische Fest verlieh mir seine Weihe.
Es war Adah gewesen, die mir die Hände auf den Rücken band, und hinter mir
sitzend ganz sanft durch mein Haar fuhr. Ich atmete ihren lieblichen Duft, und
der sanfte Druck ihrer Brüste ließen mich ganz und gar ruhig werden. Dann
öffnete Rahab mit leichtem Druck meine Schenkel und betastete mein Geschlecht.
Mein Glied erigierte zu einem letzten Gruß, und es brauchte nicht lange, bis
es ein letztes Mal seinen klebrigen Samen verlor, der in schweren Schlieren
auf den Boden tropfte. Dann ging alles sehr schnell. Bathscheba zog die
Hodenmanschette über und zerquetschte mit zwei kurzen Stößen jenes, das schon
genug Unheil angerichtet hatte. Ich werde den dreien ab jetzt dienen. Sie habe
mich in ihre Welt genommen.
* * * |
The Atheletic Contest Between Wives and Husbands | STRAIGHT, NULLIFICATION, a little torture. | Three men wager their cocks and balls in an atheltic contest against their wives. If the men win the women will become their torture toys. If the women win the men will beome eunuch cuckholded slaves. | Three Men Wager Their Cock and Balls on the
Outcome of an Athletic Contest
With Their Wives.
By
Subgamble
It came to be that there were 3 couples who became very close friends. They
worked for the same company and lived on the same street very close to each
other. In time they began to do everything together. All were sexual liberals
and they devised games where wife swapping took place.
The first couple consisted of Ted and Maria. Ted was almost exactly six feet
tall. He weighed 170 pounds. Ted had brown hair, brown eyes a pleasant looking
face that seemed to be always smiling. He was in fairly good shape but not
good enough to run a 10k race or last long enough to finish any long term
athletic event.
Maria was of Italian decent. She had the beautiful bronze look of the
Mediterranean white race. She also had dark hair and deep brown eyes. Maria
was a couple of inches over six feet tall. She had a beautiful round face,
small breasts that ended in the sharp point of the nipples, a narrow waist and
beautiful strong legs. Maria constantly worked out with the other two women of
the group. Maria weighed 150 pounds.
The second couple consisted of Mark and Melinda. Mark was just a little over
five foot nine inches tall. He weighed 150 pounds. His looks were unremarkable
except for the size of his cock and balls. His cock was almost a foot long
when erect. His balls were the size of tangerines. The 3 women in the group
loved to feel his cock burrow deep into their pussies. Mark was pretty much of
a couch potato. He enjoyed reading, watching sports on television and playing
games on his computer. Mark took part in no exercise programs and had very
little outdoor activity of any kind.
Melinda was exactly six feet tall. She had shoulder length natural blond hair,
a Nordic face with high cheek bones, blue eyes, and a wide thin lipped mouth.
Her face could have been used as an ad to promote her as an extremely sadistic
dominatrix. Melinda was the strongest of the 3 women. In addition to her
aerobics program, she worked out with weights as well. Melinda could easily
press 225 pounds. Melinda weighed 160 pounds,
The third couple were Don and Diana. Diana was the shortest of the 3 women.
She was a little less than six feet tall, She was red haired and had a firry
temper that matched her red hair. Diana had green eyes, a pert nose and wide
full ruby red lips. She had a pointed chin and dimpled cheeks. Her breasts
were firm and large round orbs that always drew men’s eyes. Diana had a twenty
eight inch waist that flared out into lovely hips. Her legs were a delight to
for men to watch as her leg muscles rippled as she walked. Diana was the
heaviest of the 3 women. She weighed 180 pounds. Diana was well over six feet
tall and looked as if she did not weigh more than 150 pounds.
Don was close to being six feet tall. He weighed 160 pounds. Don again had no
remarkable looks to speak of. He had personality that always attracted women.
Don could always easily find a date or a woman to bed until he met Diana. Once
married to Diana, Don found that she was about all he could handle in the sex
department. Don had the smallest penis and balls of the 3 men. His cock was as
thin as a small hot dog and less than four inches long when fully erect. He
had never been able to satisfy Diana with his small penis. He always had to
orally bring her to orgasm or let her finish herself off with a dildo.
It was early spring and the couple were deciding where they would go to take
their vacation. As the lived in the north part of the mid western U.S.A. they
decided they would take a winter vacation to some place in the warm tropics.
Maria found a brochure that outlined a perfect looking, uncrowded beach. The
price was very reasonable if the client stayed for a month. The three women
explored the internet and read all of the information they could find on the
place where they would like to spend their vacation. All of the information
they found was positive. After a month reservations were made.
On a cold snowy morning the three couples boarded the plane that would take
them to the sunny tropics. In no time the flight arrived at the airport near
where the resort was located. A private van picked up the six people and
transported them to the resort. In no time each couple was settled into their
two room cottage under a large group of palm trees. As soon as they were
settled in they began to explore and see what the area had to offer. They
found that the place was perfect. There was a lovely beach with cabanas in
which to find shade if one tired of the sun. There were many restaurants, a
fantastic work out facility and a gym with a boxing ring set up. Often the
resort used local talent to put on boxing matches for residents of the resort.
There were also tennis courts, volleyball courts.
The three couples retired to their rooms after a sumptuous dinner and spent
the night in an orgy of sex. Each women sampled the wares of the other two
women’s husbands.
The next morning, after a late breakfast, the group decided to explore the
small town close to the resort. They ambled down the main street going in and
out of the shops. Occasionally one of them would make a small purchase of a
knick knack to take back to a friend. After a relatively short time they had
explored all of the interesting shops on the main street. They began to
investigate the side streets. They came upon a strange looking shop with a lot
of black leather garments on display. They entered the shop and it looked to
be straight out of an SM convention. Every possible bondage and erotic device
was on display. The women were curious but had no real interest in bondage or
SM. While the men were exploring displays, Maria, who was fluent in the local
language, entered into a discussion with the woman that owned the shop. It
took a long time for the men to look at and feel the wares. Just as the men
were ready to leave, Maria finished her conversation with the shop keeper.
By the time they were back at the resort, went to their cottages, cleaned up
and dressed, it was time for dinner. Over dinner the conversation turned to
the SM shop. The men had always been eager to get the women into bondage and
have their way with them. Of course the women wanted no part of it. The men
kept begging and pleading with their wives to let their husbands tie them up
and consensually rape them. The begging and pleading continued throughout the
entire dinner. After dinner the women decided to take a moon light walk on the
beach. The men retired to the bar. There they could enjoy the local exotic
drinks cooked up by the bar tender.
After a little longer than an hour the women returned. That evening each
couple retired to there own cottage and spent the night with their spouse.
The next morning at breakfast the men continued to beg their wives to let the
men put the women in bondage. After a time Diana spoke up, “Ok if you three
what to put your genitals where your mouth is you have a bet. We will have
three events between men and women. If the men win they may tie the women up
and have their way with them the rest of the vacation. However if the women
win, they will nullify the men. That is the men will have their cocks and
balls removed. Of course after the men are rendered sexless, they will become
their wife’s slaves for the rest of their life and be cuckolded. We woman are
going shopping. You men can go to the beach, drink in the bar, don’t agree to
the wager, you will forever keep quiet about wanting to put us women in
bondage.”
“Before you agree to the wager too fast, you need to know that the 3 athletic
events that will determine whether you keep your genitals or lose them will be
as follows.
1\. Wrestling
Each male will wrestle a female. The first contestant to give up or submit
will be the loser.
2\. Tennis normal rules apply.
3\. Volleyball
The first team to get 21 points wins. If score is tied at twenty you must win
by 2 points.
In Wrestling and tennis each team will be given one point for each win. In
volley ball the winning team will receive 3 points.”
“Before you men take us women up on the wager, make sure you know what you are
risking. If you all lose, your cock and balls will be removed right here at
the resort and be made into fully working squirting dildos for our pleasure.
In addition each male will become his wife’s cuckolded slave.”
The women went off shopping and the men went to the bar to think about the
wager. Ted and Mark were eager to take the women up on their wager. Don was
not so sure. He was aware that he probably could not beat Diana at any of the
events in which they would be competing. In addition he knew that all three
women were athletic and in excellent shape. Don would not agree. The men,
especially Ted and Mark began to drink and talk about how they would love to
have their wives as bondage toys. Finally the alcohol lowered Don’s resistance
to the point where he was thinking with his cock rather than his brains. It
was finally agreed that the men would take the women up on their wager.
The men were in an alcoholic haze and returned to their rooms to nap. Shortly
before it was time for dinner the women returned, wakened their husbands.
Shortly all were bathed dressed and ready for dinner. The woman had decided
that they would eat an upscale restaurant they had seen in town.
As all were seated and an appetizer of crab dip and chips was served. The men
had large mugs of the local beer and the women glasses of red white wine. As
they were munching the dip and nursing their drinks, Diana said, “Have you
guys come to a decision? Are you all willing to bet your cock and balls on the
contest? If the men win the women will become their bondage toys. If the women
win we will have your cocks and balls removed. Then you all will become our
eunuch cuckolded slaves.”
Tom and Mark spoke in unison. “We are ready to take you on and are going to
enjoy using you as are bondage toys.”
Don wasn’t so sure about that. However, when in his alcoholic haze he ad
agreed to go along with Tom and Mark. While Tom and Mark were enthusiastic
about getting the contest started, Don was hesitant and apprehensive about it.
He was not as sure of the outcome as the confident Tom and Mark. During the
dinner it was decided the contest would take place over the next 3 days. The
first event would be the wrestling matches which would take place tomorrow.
The tennis matches would take place on the next day and the volleyball match
would be on the third day.
The three couples arose for an early breakfast. They had reserved the boxing
ring for their private use. The first wrestling match would pit Don against
Diana and begin at 10 o’clock in the morning local time. The contestants would
be nude for the wrestling matches.
The first match would pit Don against Diana. They entered the ring. Don stood
in one corner facing Diana across the ring from him. Maria rang the bell and
the match was under way. Don came across the ring and tried to submarine Diana
and knock her to the floor. Diana sidestepped don and he fell to the mat.
Diana immediately reached down, picked Don up and body slammed him hard to the
mat. The force of Don hitting the mat, from the body slam forced most of the
air out of his lungs. Don was momentarily stunned. Diana easily wrapped Don’s
legs into an extremely punishing leg lock with her strong legs, leaned forward
and twisted both of Don’s arms up behind his back in painful hammer locks.
Diana leaned on Don with all of her weight and not inconsiderable strength.
Don began to scream in pain. Diana just kept applying more pressure. At the
point where permanent damage was likely to be done to Don’s knees, elbow
joints and shoulders, he gave up. Diana kept Don in the excruciating, painful
hold for a few more minutes to make sure he really did submit. Finally Diana
released the hold. It took Don all of 15 minutes to recover to the point where
he could make his way out of the ring.
Women 1-----Men 0.
The next match was between Ted and Maria. Maria rushed Ted and body blocked
him knocking Ted to the mat. Maria pounced on Ted momentarily stunning him.
Maria tired to force Ted into a Boston Crab position and get him to submit.
Some how Ted found the strength to dislodge Maria and get her into a punishing
arm bar lock. Maria had to submit or risk having her arm broken.
Women 1------Men 1
The third match pitted Mark against Melinda. This was the shortest of the 3
matches. Melinda easily knocked Mark to the mat. Like a lithe cat she
immediately had mark in a chock hold. Mark had to give up or become
unconscious.
Women 2-----Men 1
The third match ended the day’s competition. During dinner that evening the
men were not as confident as to the outcome as they had been when the contest
began. After dinner, in the bar they discussed strategy and decided they had
to get their act together or they would lose. The women enjoyed the spa and
chatted about the days events.
On the second day, again at Ten in the morning the tennis matches began. The
first match pitted Maria against Ted. It was readily apparent that Ted was a
much better tennis player than Maria. Ted easily defeated Maria.
Women 2-------Men 2
The second match had Mark vying with Melinda. From the outset it was apparent
that the couple were evenly matched. The tennis match turned into one of those
marathon events and lasted a little over 3 hours. Finally mark defeated
Melinda.
Women 2------Men 3
The final match between Diana and Don was no contest. Diana white washed don
in a little less than an hour.
Women 3-----Men 3
The volleyball match, to take place the next day would decide whether the men
lost their cocks and balls or the women became their bondage toys. During the
evening dinner there was mostly silence as the men and women contemplated the
upcoming volley ball match. Then men had a little more confidence figuring
they should easily be able to defeat the women.
The following morning the volleyball match took place on court set up on a
shimmering white sandy beach. From the outset it was apparent that the men and
women were easily matched. After an hour and a half the match was tied at 20.
One team had to win by two. Play went back and forth for another hour. The
weather began to become very hot and very humid. The heat and humidity seemed
to be affecting the men more than the women. Several times only miraculous
digs saved the men from losing.
The women gained the serve with the score tied. On the serve the Mark easily
returned it but did not have much force on his drive. Melinda easily set Diana
up for a kill. The women were up by one.
Melinda flubbed the next serve sending the ball to Tom who put the ball just
above the net setting up Mark for an easy kill. As mark went up for the kill
to tie the game he stumbled and the ball dribbled off of his fingers into the
net. It was a few minutes before the stunned men realized the women had won.
Final score:
Women 6------Men 3
Mark and Tom began to beg and plead with the women that they were only kidding
about the bet. Tom said, “There is no way we are going to permit you women to
remove our cocks and balls.”
Just then 6 tall extremely large and muscular goons arrived. Two of the giants
grabbed each man twisted their wrists behind their backs and locked them in
handcuffs. Quickly each man was gagged. The giants then took the men to a
dungeon in the cellar under the boxing arena and unceremoniously threw the men
into separate cells leaving them cuffed and gagged.
The 3 woman celebrated over an excellent dinner of steak and lobster
accompanied by a fine wine. After the leisure dinner the women visited their
husbands cells. Maria explained, “We figured that if we won you all would
renege on your bet and not let us have your cock and balls removed. Maria
arranged for the guards to be present and take you captive if we won.”
“In addition since you all tried to wimp out of your bet, before we have your
cocks and balls removed we are going to severely torture you. Finally your
nullification will take place in the ring before an audience. If we allow the
nullification to take place before an audience the resort will refund the
entire price of our vacation and gives a free month each year for the next
five years. You all will be humiliated by losing your cocks and balls at a
public event.”
The women then left the men to contemplate their fate and took an enjoyable
moonlight walk on the beach. They discussed what they were going to do to
their soon to be nullified husbands. During the wrestling matches the women
found out that they really loved dominating men. They also discovered that
each was quite sadistic and would enjoy punishing their husbands with painful
torture.
After a late breakfast the following morning the women entered the part of the
dungeon that was equipped with every imaginable bondage and torture device.
Tom was secured in a pillory, still gagged. His body was parallel to the
floor. This caused his ass to stick out in a perfect position to receive a
severe canning.
Mark’s arms were pulled up in the air high behind his back and his legs were
spread wide and shackled to rings in the floor. Mark was also in position to
receive a severe canning.
Diana had somewhat different ideas for Don. Diana had requested that Don’s
wrists be secured against his hips with the backs of his hands against his
hips. Then his elbows were strapped together in front of his body and pulled
together to the point just before his shoulders would be dislocated. The elbow
tie would have been painful enough. However in addition Diana had Dons legs
secured in way that his ankles were tied to the opposite thigh just below his
hips. This position put pressure on his knees and caused Don great Man. Don
was in such pain that all he could do was sit on the floor, rock back and
forth and moan into his gag. Diana dragged Don a wall and chained his neck to
it.
It was time for the three women to pay attention to Mark and Tom. Diana became
the spokeswoman and stood in front of the two hapless males. Diana told the
males, “We are going to torture your nipples, give you both a severe canning
and severely torture your cocks and balls with electricity. For the next 3
days all 3 of you will be severely tortured. You will be given a week to heal.
They have remarkable herbs and ointments here that promote fast healing. Then
you will be branded as our slaves and be nullified. We hoping you enjoy
contemplating your fate. You silly males thought you could defeat 3 mere
women. Well you were foolish to make the bet. Now we are going to enjoy
claming our prizes.”
All the bound males could to was shake in fear and trepidation and shake in
their bonds. Maria pierced Tom’s nipples with several needles causing him
pain. Melinda did the same to Mark. Then each women gave the males 5o vicious
stroke of the cane to their ass. After the canning, each males ass was
dripping a little blood.
Wires from a box were attached to Tom’s and Mark’s cocks and balls. Current
was applied to their genitals. Diana turned up the current until the two men
were emitting load moans into their gags and trying to everything to escape
their punishment.
Diana said, “We would really love to do a lot more to torture your cocks and
balls. However we don’t want any real harm to come to your packages. They will
be removed into one piece. Then a local artisan will make them into a fully
functioning, squirting dildo that we women can use for our pleasure. They have
assured me that Don’s tiny package can be expanded to the point I will get
real pleasure from his severed cock.”
The woman left for lunch leaving the men to their tortures. They had a long
lunch and retired to a cottage for a round of enthusiastic lesbian sex before
returning to the dungeon. The woman decided the men had suffered enough and
ordered the guards to take the men back to their cells, cuffed and gagged.
During the following two days the women tortured the men and gave them so much
pain that all of their will to resist had disappeared. After the men healed
from the tortures inflicted on them, it was time for the big event to take
place.
Early in the morning each of the three men were taken to the arena and tied
standing to a post. They were gagged. Then men were so subdued and resigned to
their fate that all they could was stand their with heads bowed and their
chins resting on their chest. As the men were resigned to their fate, they
appeared to be at rest with very little movement.
They looked up with apparent fear as a device was moved into the arena and
placed in front of each male. Then they went back into their trance resigned
to their fate.
The event was to take place at ten in the morning. By nine thirty the area was
filled with a little over 5000 paying customers. The patrons consisted of
residents staying at the resort and many of the locals that enjoyed watching
males being nullified, especially the women. The entry fee was equivalent to
100 bucks per person.
A group of trained physicians and nurses were present to care for the males as
soon as their genitals had been removed. While they were still in their cells,
each males cock and balls had been banded with two elastrator bands. One band
was pushed so far up into the males body that it could be barely seen. The
other band was placed exactly one quarter of an inch below the first band.
Don would be the first male to be nullified. A nurse came over and lifted dons
cock and balls so they could be clearly observed by the audience on the closed
circuit TVs scattered throughout the arena. The nurse explained to the
audience, “Don here has a very small cock and balls. They are so small that
they were never of much use to his wife. Look at this penis. When erect it is
no bigger in circumference than a very small hot dog. His balls are so tiny
that it is really hard to feel them. Once I have removed Don’s package he will
not be missing much. Fortunately one of our local artisans can expand the
penis until it is a little over eight inches in length and almost two inches
in circumference. The balls can be expanded to the size of lemons. Don’s
package will become a much better functioning dildo than it did as his
genitals. Since Don as the smallest package it will be removed by genital
guillotine.”
The camera shifted to a second nurse who was displaying Ted’s cock and balls.
“Ted’s cock and balls are in the middle. His cock is a little less than eight
inches long and almost two and a half inches in girth when fully erect. His
balls are a little bigger than lemons. An artisan will have no trouble in
making Ted’s cock and balls into a dildo that will be fully able to pleasure
Maria at any time she wishes. Ted’s package will be sliced off by this device
that looks like a meat slicer in a delicatessen.”
A third nurse showed off Marks package.
“Mark has the prize package of the group. His cock when erect is almost a foot
long and three inches in girth. Mark can easily please any woman and last a
long time as his balls are a little bigger than tangerines. I am sure Mark
will miss digging his penis into woman. However his penis will not miss much.
It will be made into an outstanding dildo by an artisan. The removal of Marks
package will be the most painful since has the most to lose. Marks genitals
will be removed by reciprocating saw.”
The tall dark haired women that was the manager of the resort picked up a
microphone and spoke to the audience.
“Before each male is neutered his wife will use a brand on both of his ass
cheeks to mark him permanently as her property. The branding irons have been
being heated in braziers since early this morning. They are ready to be used
for the women to mark their property.”
A glowing brazier was wheeled in and placed beside each male. The males were
temporarily removed from the posts where they had been bound. They were
secured bent over a rail with their wrists secured to their ankles. There
asses stuck straight up in the air making them an easy target for the branding
irons.
Diana was the first woman to brand her husband Don. She picked up a branding
iron that was white hot and forced it against Don’s left ass cheek. There was
a sizzle and the smell of burning flesh. Diana removed the iron. Deeply
branded into Don’s left ass cheeks were the words, “Don Diana’s Property and
Slave.”
Diana took a second white hot branding iron and indelibly marked the same
words on Don’s right ass cheek. The closed circuit cameras showed a close up
of Don being branded and the audience became hot and turned on by the event.
In like manner Maria branded both of Ted’s ass cheeks with the words, “Ted
Maria’s property and Slave.” Soon Mark’s ass cheeks proclaimed he was
Melinda’s property and slave.
The nurses treated each man’s seared ass with herbs and ointments and the men
were returned bound standing to their respective poles. The nullification
device was wheeled to the front of each male and his genitals placed at the
exact point where the blades would slice through the quarter of inch space
between the bands. Their genitals were secured in place and all was ready for
the nullifications to begin.
Again the tall black haired woman addressed the audience.
“Once the nullification process has begun it will be on automatic control
until it is finished. Each women will have the pleasure of beginning her
husbands nullification process. In the case of Don all Diana will need to do
is pull the trip cord that releases the guillotine’s blade. Diana you may
begin when ready.”
The camera locked in and enlarged the picture where the blade would slice
through Don’s cock and balls. Diana slowly walked over in front of Don staring
directly into his eyes. She said, “Little man you thought you could take
advantage of your wife and enslave her. Your cock and balls were not of much
use to me. After they have been made into a dildo I will get great pleasure
from them. You will just be an it to be used as my cuckolded husband and
slave.”
Diana pulled the trip leaver and the cameras showed Don’s cock and balls
falling into the waiting basket in one complete package. Because of the
banding process there was very little blood. The audience already hot from
having watched the men being branded, began to rub cocks and clits. In some
cases the individual masturbated a little while others practiced mutual
masturbation.
Next the camera view shifted to Ted’s cock and balls. The camera enlarged the
picture of Ted’s package and the meat slicer on the track that would direct
the spinning blade to slice through Ted’s genitals exactly between the two
bands.
The audience heard the loudspeaker system announce, “Maria you may turn on the
meat slicer when you are ready.”
Maria simply stood in front of Ted, looked him in the eye and said, “Fool!”
Maria pressed the button and meat slicer sprang to life. The spinning blade
slowly made its way down the track toward the space between the bands on Ted’s
genitals. As the audience watched the blade proceed toward Ted’s genitals the
attention the patrons were paying to their own cocks and clits became even
more heated. Many were just on the verge of having an orgasm. The audience
went wild as the blade reach Ted’s genitals and slowly ate its way through
them. Ted’s genitals also dropped into a waiting basket.
The camera honed in on Mark’s massive genitals. The audience gasped when they
viewed his huge cock and balls. Above Mark’s genitals was a reciprocating hack
saw. It was on a track that would allow it to descend and slowly slice through
Mark’s genitals exactly between the two applied bands. The loud speaker system
told Melinda that she could begin lopping off Mark’s genitals when she was
ready.
Melinda, said to Mark, “I am sure this was mostly your idea. I am glad you
talked the other two into participating in the contest. It is going to be fun
having our very own cuckolded slave husbands.”
Melinda pressed the switch starting the saw. As it slowly descended to rip its
way through Mark’s genitals, all through audience there were swollen clits and
cocks along with the odor of raw sex. The TV monitors showed the blade
beginning to rip through Mark’s genitals accompanied by bits of flesh flying
from the blade. All through the audience cries of sexual pleasure rang out. By
the time Mark’s genitals dropped into the waiting basket every person in the
audience had experienced an orgasm.
The men were removed to the first class clinic at the resort where they would
be taken care of and their wounds surgically repaired. The woman retired to a
cottage for another round of lesbian sex. Then went on a shopping spree and
had a lovely dinner.
By the end of the month the eunuch slaves were healed and ready to return home
with their wives and mistresses.
In due time each woman installed a live in lover in her household. The eunuchs
became the slave of both his wife and her lover. The ladies remained sure that
their husbands were permanently locked in chains and kept nude at all times.
Money was no longer a problem. The three women had started an on line business
and by the end of a year were making several thousands of dollars in profit
each day.
Each year the women took their lovers to the resort for their free month’s
vacation. At the end of the fourth year, the women made plans for their free
vacations to continue. The following winter there would be another contest.
During their fourth year’s free vacation at the resort, Maria explained that
if they brought their eunuchs to be mummified and offered as a sacrifice to
the guards they would then receive a two months vacation free gratis but that
is another story.
Feedback please.
* * * |
The Cock Collector And Her Model | BI, PENECTOMY, Lesbian | A young female amateur photographer gets a little too turned on shooting a fantasy penectomy scene. | My name is Alana, and I’m 25 years old. While I consider myself “bi”, I must
admit that I am way more into girls. Yet there is a deep down fascination I
have had as long as I can recall with men’s cocks. Really big, thick cocks. I
am always mesmerized by long, hard cocks with fat, shiny, purplish-blue heads.
This passion of mine for beautiful cocks has ultimately led me to do what I
might have once thought was unthinkable. Now I actually collect them!
It really did start innocently enough. I have been an amateur photographer
since junior high. I got a really nice 35 mm camera when I turned 15, and
right away started shooting anything and everything. When I turned 17 I got a
very high end digital camera, which meant I no longer needed to send my film
out to be developed. Suddenly I found the temptation too hard to resist
coaxing girlfriends from school to pose for me.
Eventually those photo shoots evolved from innocent “fashion” layouts to light
erotica, where I would get two girls to kiss and make out. It really is pretty
normal for girls today to be into girls, even if they like boys. Let's face
it, every girl these days wants to be like Britney Spears, or Tatu, or even
Madonna. It’s considered to be very in fashion for girls to be into girls. So
I was not surprised when more girls asked to pose in skimpy bikinis with
another girl, or even nude.
Soon they were okay with feeling each other up as they kissed passionately and
I snapped away. Then the cloths fell away, and finally I was shooting full on
hard core girl-girl sex! It was hot.
So many girls at my school were getting into girls that getting models to pose
was easy. Soon most of the hot girls from all over my school were coming over
to do a girl-girl modeling shoot for me!
I developed kind of a reputation for my sexy girl-girl photo layouts.
Sometimes I even got some of our hot teachers to pose, usually in a teacher-
seducing-her-student theme. These had to be kept very quiet so there wouldn’t
be any scandals. And I began to get requests from girls at school to
photograph “special” themes. Often it would be to take pictures at an all-girl
party. Maybe the seniors were getting some sophomore or freshman girls to go
bi or lez. That became pretty popular among the hottest girls, and sort of a
status thing. So when a freshman or sophomore girl got invited to a senior’s
all-girl party, she knew what that meant, and that a new level of popularity
awaits her if she was willing to go bi or lez. You can imagine how hot the
pictures turned out!
It was in the beginning of my senior year, after photographing the
lesbianization of nearly all the best looking girls in school, that I finally
got my first request to shoot pictures that would include a guy. I was looking
forward to the change – not that I could ever get tired of photographing sexy
high school girls having their first taste of pussy – and wondered how the
theme would play out.
It was after school on a Wednesday when Kara came by with her blond, muscle
toned boyfriend David and another hunky guy, the more Latin looking Andy. Both
boys were there because Kara wanted to do a boy-girl-boy layout, and wanted me
to help create a style and a mood to make it not just super sexy, but edgy and
kinky. She really wanted me to push her and the boys to be daring and push the
boundaries of art.
I was really getting excited as all kinds of ideas went through my head. Just
how far could I push them? What sorts of depraved poses would they be willing
to do for the sake of erotic art?
We began with Kara, solo, as I snapped dozens of pics of her undressing. She
had a perfect swimmer’s body. Long, sleek, lean, her pussy totally shaved
smooth, small but firm “sporty boobs” with cute, hard little nipples. Her tan
lines revealed her preference for tiny, tiny bikinis. Her clit actually peeked
out just over the top of her panty tan line! Now that’s sublime!
Once she was nude, we brought in the two guys, who were both obviously getting
hard-ons. As I kept shooting away, Kara pulled both of their cocks out and
began to stroke them. These two cocks were huge! David had to be close to 10
inches, and thick! It was beautiful, with a perfect shaft and a fat, mushroom
head. Gorgeous. But then I saw Andy’s monster cock … easily 12 thick inches,
equally beautiful, and with a wonderfully shaped bluish, purple head. I was
getting so wet, my pussy literally became drenched in my sweet cunt juices.
As the posing continued, Kara eventually got both guys nude and covered in
oil. She started getting kinkier, at one point having Andy pose kissing her on
her cheek as David’s hard cock filled her mouth, pushing through that same
cheek. But for a thin wall of Kara’s cheek skin, Andy was practically kissing
the head of David’s cock! Kara stared with burning lust into Andy’s eyes as
that tormented cock tried to force its way through her cheek and into Andy’s
mouth. HOT!
“Are you guys’ bi?” I asked.
“No!” they both replied in loud, clear unison.
“Okay. Just checking. Trying to see how far we could go. Kara, let’s try
pushing the eroticism a little harder. Take David’s cock out of your mouth and
rub the head over Andy’s lips.”
Andy and Dave both started to resist, but Kara maintained control over her two
boy toys and persuaded them that this was just modeling. Nobody will think
they’re gay!
So slowly, as I took dozens more pics, some close up and some really close up,
Kara guided David’s delicious cock right up to Andy’s lips. “Come on … just
part your lips a little bit for me, honey,” Kara whispered to Andy. “I only
want to place the head half way between your lips … come onnnn … you can do it
… just let me put the head into your mouth … come on … that’s it … let your
lips slide over the head … Alana, are you getting this? It is SO hot!”
I was getting it, alright! I had never seen, much less had an interest in,
homo-erotic art. But here was this really cute guy letting his girlfriend
slowly feed a huge, gorgeous cock into his mouth! Kara had one hand behind her
boyfriend’s head, pulling him gradually forward. Within a few more moments,
she had the head and about four inches of David’s shaft sliding into Andy’s
mouth. I was starting to cum as I kept shooting this unreal, super sexy scene.
Kara’s face was a picture of pure lust as she smiled ear to ear and kept
pushing David’s cock further down Andy’s throat. Andy finally made it all the
way down, his lips wrapped around the shaved smooth base of that hot, thick 10
inch cock. And I was cumming so hard I was practically pissing a hard stream
onto the floor as I squatted low and shot photo after scorching hot photo of
this wonderful first-time blow job scene.
David suddenly exploded, and while Kara held Andy’s head in place so he
couldn’t pull away, David pumped load upon load of sweet, sticky cum into
Andy’s mouth. “Swallow, honey … that’s great, keep swallowing … gulp it all
down … don’t disappoint me, my cute little cock sucker … mmmm … isn’t that
fun? Don’t you love sucking cock? I knew you would!”
I knew we had to take this further, now that the guys had pushed passed any
fears of getting too kinky. So I decided to go for broke. “Kara,” I purred,
“let’s try a fantasy scene where we place the guys in restraints and pretend
to torture them with sex.”
“I love that idea,” she eagerly replied.
We led the guys over to a table that could serve as a mad scientist’s
operating table. “Andy, hop up. We’ll ‘operate’ on you!” Kara teased. Andy’s
cock, all 12 rock-hard inches, seemed to swell and almost stretch longer as he
lay back on the table and let us strap him down.
I resumed taking pictures and making suggestions as Kara pretended to tease
and tempt her willing subject. Her attention soon focused entirely on that
wonderful 12 inch throbbing cock. Wrapping her hand around the base, she made
a sexy sneer at him and said, “A real man would let me add this to my
collection! Well … are you a real man?”
Andy’s cock was so hard in her grasp that it looked ready to burst. “Yes,
Kara. Take it, it’s yours.”
“Really?” She said.
“Oh yes, it’s yours. You can take my cock for your collection.”
Kara had a strange look on her face, like for a moment she wasn’t sure what to
do next.
“Kara, are you okay? I asked.
“Yeah, sure. But what should we do now? His cock is so hard and so ready to
explode. I’ve never seen it so totally shiny and hard like this. Can we
simulate taking his cock off? Can we make it look real enough?”
This was an interesting cross roads. So I decided to wing it.
“Let’s ‘prep’ him for cock removal and we’ll keep taking pictures. We’ll
figure this out.”
Kara agreed, and as David watched from the sidelines, Kara ‘prepared’ Andy’s
cock for removal, so that she could add it to her fictitious ‘collection’. Her
careful work included winding a string tightly around the shaved base of his
pulsating, throbbing 12 inch penis. I was getting wet again, my cunt dripping
with girl cream. I couldn’t believe how sexy it was to see this hot, hunky guy
‘volunteering’ to lose his big, beautiful cock. While he was only modeling, it
felt so unbelievably wonderful to play this out as a fantasy.
Kara soon had Andy’s cock all ready for removal. I gave Kara a long, very
sharp, smooth edged kitchen carving knife. “Now hold his cock in one hand and
pose like you are going to slice through that thick shaft at the base,” I
instructed Kara.
She did as I said, and had a sultry sexy expression on her face as she began
to simulate a slow, steady slicing motion along the base of his cock.
It was really sexy. Andy lay still as Kara changed poses and pretended to
lovingly saw into his hard, thick cock shaft. His penis grew even harder and
swollen in her hand as she talked to him while she ‘cut’.
“That’s it, hold still ... let me make a nice, smooth cut … mmmmm … that’s
good, just hold still and keep your cock nice and hard for me so I can get
every bit of it … oh, yeah, this will look soooo nice in my collection. This
will easily be my finest trophy cock. Thank you so much for letting me cut it
off of you, Andy. Oh, I love your cock … okay, hold still …”
At about this point I nudged close to Kara and whispered softly in her ear,
“Go ahead and do it!”
“What? Are you kidding?”
“No,” I whispered, and kissed her softly on her sweet lips. “This is so hot.
Do it. Really do it.”
Andy seemed oblivious; his head back, that huge erect cock just waiting to
explode. This was it. This was the moment where we would push artistic
barriers and create a completely new and erotic style.
Kara held that magnificent cock steady and placed the knife’s sharp, gleaming
edge against the very base of the shaft. “Mmmmmm … oh Andy, this is soooo hot!
Are you sure you are ready to lose it? Can I really keep this gorgeous cock
for my collection?”
Andy just nodded, feeling the approach of a mind numbing orgasm.
Kara smiled and looked down at the mighty penis straining in her grasp, her
fingers barely able to wrap completely around the shaft. Slowly but firmly she
eased the knife across the base of Andy’s cock. I moved in close, shooting
pictures as fast as I could. Kara had Andy so turned on he did not realize
that while he was only modeling, Kara was now actually slicing into his cock.
Oh, it was so hot, so completely sexy. Kara sliced back and forth, very
steadily pushing the blade deeper into that cock. Twelve inches of hard, thick
cock slowly being removed as she continually moved her knife back and forth,
holding the shaft at about the middle, slicing deeper, deeper …
Again I could feel my own orgasm nearing, as Kara passed the half way point.
She was doing it. She was really taking his cock off! And I was shooting
picture after picture. Seeing that beautiful cock slowly being cut off was now
making me cum and cum again. Even Kara had a look of orgasmic pleasure
spreading across her face as her knife neared the three quarter mark. It was
almost off!
This was the hottest modeling session ever, and I was loving every moment of
this real de-cocking for art. Kara sliced a little faster as she was getting
close to completing her task. Andy still had no idea this was now for real.
David looked on, stunned but, to my very pleased surprise, erect and
throbbing! He would have to model next!
Finally, after almost three minutes of sexually excruciating slicing, Andy’s
cock lifted up off its base in Kara’s hand, severed, erect and gloriously long
and beautiful. Kara held Andy’s cock for me to photograph up close. It was a
masterpiece. It definitely belonged in a collection. Andy’s cock was art, and
I intended to display it.
We had to get Andy to a nurse to sew up that flat place where once a giant
cock existed. We knew some girls at a nearby nursing college that were
available and willing to keep things quiet … if we would let them come and
watch the next time we collected a model’s cock.
That first cock, all 12 inches, is still rock-hard and on display in my room,
preserved in a sealed, phallic shaped glass tube. That glass tube is filled
with a clear chemical preservative. And a long, thick, erect, beautiful penis.
I still prefer girls to guys, and I know most girls today are into girls too.
But now I have a special interest in boys. Well, in their cocks. So now when
I’m not getting some cute, freshman hottie to taste her first pussy or model
in her first girl-girl photo layout, I’m looking for very well hung guys
willing to let me take them further sexually than they ever dared. And to let
me photograph them as they model in my penis removal art, for my now growing
collection!
When men want my attention now, they have to be into teen-lesbian or penectomy
porn. Guys that ask me out know that sending me a couple of hot pics and a
letter explaining their interest in me will get them far. The rest of the
guys? Getin line behind the girls!
* * * |
THE BICYCLE ACCIDENT (penis, testicles) | THE BICYCLE ACCIDENT
by Sporus
I was riding my road racing bike down the hill on my way to work. The
traffic was heavy and I had to stay closer to the row of parked cars
than I liked. Suddenly a car door opened right in front of me. My front
wheel hit the door square on. I flew over the handlebars at 25 miles per
hour and my crotch collided with the top of the door. It felt as if my
crotch were being ripped completely out. I rolled over the front of the
car and ended up in a fetal position, screaming, holding onto my crotch
and not being able to feel anything between my legs but pain. Imagine
the pain of being kicked in the balls only a hundred times worse. And
getting worse by the second. On top of this, there was a growing
electrical pain surging through my cock, punctuated by sharp flashing
pains as if my cock were being pierced by a thousand ice picks over and
over. Finally I rolled onto one side, vomited and passed out..
I came to in the ER strapped to a table, an ice pack between my legs.
The pain was still intense. I was being wheeled into a room. Some one
began cutting through the spandex of my bike shorts as a nurse handed me
a consent form. After a while the doctor informed me that I has
sustained massive tissue damage in my groin. My crushed genitals had to
be completely removed. They began injecting local anesthetic into my
groin and gave me a shot of morphine. As I drifted into semi-
consciousness, I closed my eyes and tried very hard not to look like the
happiest man alive.
I had dreamed about being a eunuch as long as I could remember. For
years I had been taping and gluing my genitals inside of my abdomen so
that my cock and balls would disappear completely. I could experience
the look and some of the feel of being sexless. Now it was all coming
true. I was becoming a eunuch. What would my new body feel like? How
would my new life be? I couldn't wait to find out.
The next 24 hours were a blur, lying on my back with a Demerol drip
going in one arm. The pain was dull but constant with occasional shots
of intense pain which sent my entire body into spasms. By the afternoon
of the second day, the pain was at a more manageable level. A nurse came
in to change the dressing on my groin. I watched her pretty face as she
saw my wound. She tried to keep her composure, but clearly had never
seen anything like. I asked her to leave me alone for just a moment so I
could look for myself. She hesitate, then waited outside. I elevated the
bed so I could see.
Everything was swollen and black and blue. My cock and balls were
completely gone. A curving, horizontal scar ran from one side of the
groin to the other. A clear drainage tube ran from either end of the
scar. A yellow catheter ran out from where the base of my scrotum had
been. I felt an intense, almost orgasmic feeling rushed through my
entire body. I lowered the bed and drifted off, a silly grin on my face.
I was going to like this, I thought.
______________________________________________________
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Die Dame mit dem Schwanz-Kompressor | PENECTOMY | Ehrenwerte Damen kennen manchmal keine Gnade | Es war einer dieser Tage, an dem ein Meeting das andere jagt. So wurde es auch
heute später und ich kam erst um halb neun abends aus dem Büro. Ich as einen
kleinen Snack beim Asiaten und beschloss darauf, den Abend in der Wellness-
Therme im nächsten Ort zu verbringen.
Diese Form der Entspannung mit Saunagängen, Whirlpools und Ruheräumen war
genau das richtige nach diesem Arbeitstag.
Gegen kurz nach zehn traf ich dort ein. Die Therme hatte bis um zwölf
geöffnet, letzter Einlass war jedoch 23 Uhr. Spät abends war dementsprechend
auch wenig Betrieb in dieser Einrichtung. Ich zahlte, ging in die Umkleide,
legte meine Sachen ab und kam im Adamskostüm und mit einem großen Saunatuch in
der Hand wieder heraus.
Mit meinen 38 Jahren konnte ich mich immer noch sehen lassen. Das Ausdauer-
und Fitnessprogramm, welches ich mir auferlegt hatte, zeigte nach wie vor
Wirkung. Eine leichte Bräune lag auf meinem Körper, nur die größer werdenden
Geheimratsecken machten mir in letzter Zeit ein wenig Sorgen, sollten aber den
positiven Gesamteindruck nicht trüben.
Auch mein bestes Stück war ein Hingucker. Im schlaffen Zustand ca. 16 cm lang
und auch recht dick, entwickelte er sich bei einer Erektion zu einem richtig
mächtigen Kolben.
Der Erfolg bei Frauen war mir damit gewiss. Und als Junggeselle war ich auch
kein Kostverächter. Auch an diesem Abend war ich neugierig, ob sich attraktive
Damen im Wellness-Bereich befinden würden.
Die Therme war auffallend leer. Ich entschied mich für die Dampfsauna.
Fünfzehn Minuten hielt ich durch, dann noch die Eukalyptus-Sauna, in der der
Aufguss von einer blonden Schönheit vorgenommen wurde. Im Ruheraum genoss ich
einen alkoholfreien Cocktail und ließ den Tag Revue passieren. Es wurde später
und ich dachte, einen Saunagang kannst Du noch machen, dann geht’s heim.
Auf dem Weg in die Schwitzkiste begegnete ich einer Frau, die eine echte
Erscheinung war. Mitte vierzig, sehr graziös, eine Frau mit Klasse – eben eine
wirkliche Dame. Sie musterte mich und schmunzelte – dann ging sie weiter.
Ich saß gerade 3 Minuten in der finnischen Sauna, da gesellten sich zwei Kerle
zu mir. Echte Muskelprotze, fast zwei Meter groß. Jeder setzte sich auf eine
Seite. Auch sie musterten mich, blickten sich darauf hin an und nickten sich
kurz zu. Es verging eine weitere Minute und sie verließen die Sauna. Seltsame
Vögel, dachte ich noch, lehnte mich zurück und entspannte noch einmal bei ca.
neunzig Grad.
Als ich die Sauna verließ ging alles ganz schnell. Kaum dass ich die Tür
wieder geschlossen hatte, packten mich die beiden Kerle von hinten und hielten
mich fest. Ich fragte, was das solle und sie entgegneten: „Das wirst Du schon
sehen“.
Ich bemerkte in diesem Moment, dass kein Mensch mehr in der Therme zu sehen
war.
Die Kerle packten fester zu. Ich hatte keine Chance.
Ein dritter kam und nagelte zwei Schellen an die Außenwand der
Blockbohlensauna. Die Muskelprotze hielten mich an den Armen, zogen mich hoch
und drückten meine Handgelenke in die Schellen. Der Dritte schloss sie. Ich
hing. Die Schellen waren gummiert, so dass es nicht all zu sehr schmerzte. Ich
versuchte mit meinen Füßen nach den beiden zu treten. Sie lachten nur. Eine
Spreizstange wurde angelegt und so wurde ich auch der Möglichkeit beraubt,
mich mit meinen Beinen zur Wehr zu setzen.
Es war eine verhältnismäßig dicke Spreizstange, ich vermutete ineinander
liegende Stangen, in der Mitte sah sie aus wie ein Zylinder. Ich sollte noch
früh genug erfahren, was es damit auf sich hatte.
Die beiden Typen stellten sich rechts und links von mir auf, der Dritte
verschwand.
Der eine sprach mit ruhiger Stimme: „Dürfen wir vorstellen, Frau Ontaria!“
Die Lady von vorhin erschien. Diesmal lächelte sie nicht mehr, sondern schaute
ernst.
Aber sie wirkte noch immer sehr elegant. Sie trug nun schwarze, hohe
Lederstiefel und ein Mieder. Sonst nichts. Sie hatte volle Brüste, eine
frauliche Figur. Und sie strahlte Autorität aus. „Meine Herren, ich bedanke
mich für ihre Unterstützung“, sagte sie und die beiden Muskelprotze
verschwanden.
„Sie werden sich sicher fragen, wieso sie jetzt in dieser Situation sind“
sprach sie mich an.
„Nun, ich werde es Ihnen erklären. Ich bin Mitarbeiterin in einer Agentur, die
es sich zur Aufgabe gemacht hat, untreue Ehemänner und auch Männer, die sich
gegenüber Frauen sehr respektlos verhalten haben, zu bestrafen. Meine
Mandantin hat mich beauftragt, sie einer unserer Spezialbehandlungen zu
unterziehen, da sie es nicht für nötig gehalten haben, die Beziehung zu ihr in
einer fairen Art und Weise zu beenden, sondern sich durch eine kurze sms von
ihr getrennt haben.“
Jetzt ahnte ich langsam, was dahinter steckte. Im Hintergrund schlossen sich
Türen. Wieso war bloß keiner mehr hier, der mir zur Seite stehen konnte?
„Im übrigen ist meine Mandantin, Frau Ingeborg von Lerchenfeld, keine Frau mit
der man einfach so Schluss macht. Sie entscheidet, wann eine Beziehung zu Ende
ist.“
Jetzt war mir alles klar. Die Gattin des Grafen, mit der ich vor vier Monaten
eine kurze Affäre hatte. Wir hatten uns in einem Kurzurlaub kennen gelernt.
„O.K., ich gebe zu, es war nicht die feine Art, aber Ingeborg ist doch
verheiratet. Ist das etwa fair?“ entgegnete ich.
„Schweigen Sie!! Ihre Belange interessieren hier nicht. Fest steht, dass hier
eine Bestrafung erfolgen soll und muss und dazu bin ich jetzt da!“
Langsam wurde mir mulmig, die Situation wurde brenzlig. Ich, total fixiert,
mit gespreizten Beinen. Mir gegenüber ein Vollweib mit sehr erotisch-
dominanter Ausstrahlung. Ich fragte mich, was sie mit mir vor hatte.
„Sie dürfen jetzt dazu kommen“ sagte sie und Ingeborg betrat die Szene. Ich
konnte es nicht glauben. Sie steckte also tatsächlich hinter dem allem. Mit
einem schelmischen Lächeln trat sie an mich heran. „Na, mein Lieber, wie
fühlst Du Dich jetzt?“ Deine Art, eine Beziehung zu beenden hat mich sehr
verletzt. Und dafür werde ich Dich jetzt demütigen lassen“.
Ich versuchte sie zu beschwichtigen: „Inge, Liebes, lass uns doch noch einmal
über alles reden, ich denke, ich sollte Dir etwas erklären dürfen. Bitte mach
jetzt keinen Fehler, was hast Du denn überhaupt vor? Lass mich doch bitte
wieder hier raus, findest Du das nicht etwas unangemessen?
„Was angemessen ist, in diesem Fall, entscheide ich!“, sagte Inge, „und wir
sind noch nicht am Ende. Sie entfernte sich von mir und nahm in einem
Liegestuhl platz. „Ich werde das Schauspiel jetzt von hier aus genießen“ sagte
sie. Einer der Kerle brachte ihr einen Drink.
„Frau Ontaria, bitte beginnen sie“, bat sie die Lady.
Die Mitarbeiterin der von Inge beauftragten Agentur wurde aktiv. Immer noch
hing ich mit weit auseinander gestreckten Armen an der Wand der Blockbohlen-
Sauna. So langsam wurde das ganze sehr unangenehm für mich. Nun schloss sie
ein Kabel an den Zylinder, der sich in der Mitte der Spreizstange befand, an.
Daran befand sich eine Stromverbindung und eine Fernbedienung.
Sie drückte den Knopf an der Bedienung. Es begann leicht zu surren und eine
Elektropneumatik drückte das Gestänge in die Länge. Wurden meine Beine zu
Beginn durch die Spreizstange etwa einen halben Meter auseinander gedrückt, so
begannen sie jetzt sich cm für cm weiter auseinander zu bewegen. Meine Füße
entfernten sich weiter vom Boden weg, es dauerte, aber sie stoppte es nicht.
„Mein Herr, Sie sind wirklich gut behangen“ sagte sie und nahm mein Glied in
ihre Hand. „Zumindest in diesem Moment noch“, fuhr sie fort und schmunzelte
wieder.
Ich verstand nicht, blickte flehend zu Ingeborg und musste spüren, wie meine
Beine durch die Spreizstange jetzt langsam in den Spagat gedrückt wurden.
„Wollen wir noch ein wenig Spaß mit ihm haben, bevor ich die Behandlung
starte?“ fragte Frau Ontaria Ingeborg. „Was schlagen Sie vor?“ fragte Ingeborg
zurück.
Die von Inge beauftragte Frau schnippte kurz mit den Fingern und einer der
Kerle brachte einen Katalog, den er Ingeborg reichte. „Wählen Sie selbst“,
sagte sie, „Extras sind allerdings aufpreispflichtig“.
„Ingeborg lachte: „Geld spielt keine Rolle, Hauptsache ich bekomme meine
Genugtuung..!“
Sie blätterte genüsslich in dem Katalog und lachte immer wieder. „Das ist ja
wirklich fantastisch, was sie alles anbieten, ich bekomme richtig Spaß an der
Sache“. Sie schaute noch ein wenig, dann sagte sie: „Gut, nehmen wir dies hier
und bereiten ihm mit der Praktik, die sie hier anbieten vorher noch einmal
einen gehörigen Abgang“, sie zeigte auf zwei Seiten des Katalogs, „
anschließend bitte ich dann aber um Vollzug der von mir ursprünglich
beauftragten Maßnahme“.
Ich erkannte Ingeborg nicht wieder. Die sonst so distinguierte Frau entpuppte
sich als eiskalte „Vollstreckerin“. Die Lakaien der Agentur-Mitarbeiterin
brachten eine Kiste mit diversen Utensilien. Man reichte Inge einen
Kugelvibrator. Wohlwollend betrachtete sie ihn und testete seine Funktion.
Frau Ontaria schaute zu: „Wollen Sie oder soll ich?“, fragte Sie Ingeborg.
Doch Ingeborg fackelte nicht lange. „Ich werde der Lady jetzt mal Deinen
Großen zeigen!“ sprach sie und bearbeitete mit dem Kugelvibrator meine Hoden.
„Aber Inge, was tust Du?!“ entfuhr es mir … doch ich war machtlos. Fixiert im
Spagat wuchs mein Kolben langsam aber sicher zu voller Größe an. „Na bitte,
geht doch. Schauen Sie nur, das ist doch wirklich ein Prachtexemplar, oder?“,
feixte Inge. Die Lady nickte wohlwollend und massierte meinen Pint mit ihrer
Hand. Dann fuhr Ingeborg wieder mit dem Kugelvibrator an meinem Penisschaft
auf und ab. Obwohl die Situation einerseits sehr beängstigend für mich war, so
stieg auf der anderen Seite die Erregung in mir auf. „Tja, mein Lieber, mit
diesem Lümmel hast Du sicher eine Menge Frauen glücklich gemacht. Die Natur
hat Dir eine Menge mitgegeben.“
Mein Schwanz war hart wie Beton. Mir war klar, was auch immer ich sagen würde,
wie sehr ich auch immer beteuern würde, dass es mir leid tut, Ingeborg hatte
sich etwas vorgenommen und sie würde es durchziehen bis zum Schluss.
Die Lady kramte jetzt ein Elektrostimulationsgerät hervor, befestigte zwei
Elektroden an meinem steifen Glied. Eine unten am Schaft, eine oben kurz unter
der Eichel.
„Toll, sowas kenne ich noch gar nicht“ sagte Ingeborg. Die Lady erklärte ihr:
„ Mit Hilfe eines Reizstroms, kann man so den Penis stimulieren. Entweder man
lässt es angenehm kribbeln oder fährt es hoch, dann gibt es richtige
Lustschmerzen!“
Sie reichte Inge den Stimulator. Es entfuhr mir: „Inge Du Miststück, nun hör
endlich auf mit dem Scheiß!“ „Das hast Du nicht umsonst gesagt!“ entgegnete
sie. Unverzüglich drückte sie auf die Knöpfe und drehte an den Reglern. Ein
Wahnsinns-Kribbeln ging durch mein Rohr, mein Schwanz bäumte sich auf, zuckte,
ich hielt es kaum noch aus. Sie bemerkte es und drückte den „Schmerz-Button“.
Ein Stromimpuls durchfuhr mein Glied und der Schmerz, der unsagbar war, ließ
es wieder leicht abschlaffen … dann wiederholte sie die Prozedur, ungefähr 8
mal. Erregung und Schmerz, immer wieder. Am Ende flehte ich sie an, mich
kommen zu lassen. Doch sie sagte nur: „Schatzi, heute ist Damenwahl.“
Die Agentur-Lady sagte: „Also Frau von Lerchenfeld, der Anblick erregt mich
schon sehr. Was denken Sie, sollten wir uns auch was Gutes tun?“
„Gerne“, entgegnete Ingeborg.
„Ich lasse alles vorbereiten“, sagte die Agentin. „Genehmigen wir uns doch
einen Drink.“ Die Frauen zogen sich zurück.
Durch ein Fenster konnte ich beobachten, wie die Frauen an der Bar saßen und
die Agentin etwas erklärte.
Prompt kamen die Kerle rein, entfernten die Elektrostimulation und stülpten
ein sehr dickes Kunststoffrohr über meinen Schwanz, das einer sehr fest an
meinen Körper drückte, während der andere das Rohr von oben her ausgoss. Kaum
dass die ins Rohr gegossene Masse ausgehärtet war, zogen sich die beiden
wieder zurück und nahmen das Rohr mit. Es sah ganz danach aus, als wollten sie
einen Abdruck von meinem Schwanz machen. Der Dritte wusch meinen Schwanz
wieder sauber. Ich versuchte ihn zu bestechen, bot ihm Geld, wenn er mich
freilassen würde, doch er reagierte nicht einmal. Seelenruhig legte er die
Elektrostimulationskontakte wieder an.
Im Hintergrund hörte ich Geräusche. Irgend etwas fertigten die Männer an.
Dann kamen Sie wieder herein und stellten einen Stuhl und eine Liege mit
Lederpolsterung auf. Der Stuhl hatte in der Sitzfläche ein Loch. Unter dem
Stuhl befand sich eine Apparatur, die über einen Motor ein Gestänge in
Bewegung setzen konnte. Nachdem einer der Helfer einen Gummipenis auf der
Stange montiert hatte – es war tatsächlich die getreue Nachbildung meines
Gliedes – wurde mir klar, dass dies eine Fickmaschine war. Der Dildo wurde
rhythmisch durch das Loch im Stuhl bewegt. Eine ähnliche Apparatur wurde vor
der Liege positioniert. Hier bewegte die Stange den Dildo allerdings nicht
vertikal, sondern eher waagerecht, so dass die Frau dabei liegen konnte.
Ingeborg und Frau Ontaria kamen zurück. „Fantastisch, meine Herren, sie haben
wirklich ganze Arbeit geleistet!“ lobte Frau Ontaria das Ergebnis der Arbeit
ihrer Angestellten. „Bitte Frau von Lerchenfeld, Sie haben die Wahl, bitte
suchen sie sich eine Maschine aus“, sagte sie zu Ingeborg. Ingeborg legte sich
auf die Liege und zog blank. Ich hatte freien Blick auf ihre adlige Muschi,
die wie immer sehr gepflegt war. Teilrasiert mit rosigen Schamlippen. Mein
Kamerad stellte sich wieder auf.
„Na, was würdest Du dafür geben, wenn ich Dich noch einmal hier reinließe?“,
fragte Ingeborg und deutete auf ihre Scheide. „Aber das kannst Du Dir von nun
an abschminken, ich werde Dir gleich eine Lektion erteilen lassen!“ Auch Frau
Ontaria nahm jetzt platz und setzte sich neben Ingeborg auf den Stuhl. Ein
geiler Anblick, zwei so attraktive Frauen, aber ich war zur
Bewegungsunfähigkeit verdammt. „Was meinen Sie, wollen wir ihn jetzt spritzen
lassen?“ „Ja“, sagte Ingeborg, „wir sollten so langsam zum Schluss kommen“.
Sie nahm das Elektrostimulationsgerät und drückte die Programmknöpfe. Das
Kribbeln in meinem Schwanz war kaum auszuhalten. Er stand so fest wie selten.
Die Damen verglichen noch einmal mein Original mit den Nachbildungen aus Latex
und lobten noch einmal die Arbeit der Helfer. „Sie dürfen sich
selbstverständlich ein Exemplar zur Erinnerung an diesen Abend mit nach Hause
nehmen“, sagte Frau Ontaria, „so wird es ein unvergessliches Erlebnis
bleiben“. Ingeborg verpasste mir noch drei mal einen Dämpfer mit einem
Stromstoss, dann sollte ich kommen. Bei diesem Abgang schwanden mir fast die
Sinne, mein Penis schoss den Samen raus und pumpte wie ich es zuvor noch nie
erlebt hatte, es war ein Super-Orgasmus. Er zuckte und zuckte, dann wurde er
schlaff… immer noch im Spagat, hing mein Dödel zwischen den Beinen runter.
Nach diesem Abgang war ich zu nichts mehr in der Lage. Ich war total
geschafft.
Als ich wieder klar war sagte ich: „So nun habt Ihr Euren Spaß gehabt, nun
lasst mich bitte raus hier.“
Aber Ingeborg entgegnete mir: „Glaubst Du wirklich, dass ich Dich so davon
kommen lasse? Jetzt kommt doch erst der Hauptteil!“
Frau Ontaria klatschte zweimal in die Hände. Die Helfer kamen zurück und
entfernten die Elektroden. Mein Glied war schlapp und baumelte nur noch. Einer
band mir die Hoden nach hinten weg, so dass mein Penis kerzengerade nach unten
hing.
Dann kam einer mit einem weiteren Gerät in den Raum. Es handelte sich um eine
Art Antrieb mit vielen Schläuchen und Kabeln und einem Gefäß mit einer
Flüssigkeit. Herausragend war aber ein ca. ein Meter langes Plexiglasrohr,
welches aus der Maschine nach oben ragte.
Frau Ontaria kündigte bedeutungsvoll an: „Darf ich präsentieren: der Schwanz-
Kompressor!“
Dann folgte eine Erklärung der Funktionsweise. Zeitgleich dazu nahmen die
Männer die Installation an mir vor. „Frau von Lerchenfeld, diese Maschine
ermöglicht es, einen großen Penis auf eine kleinere Größe zu schrumpfen.“
Meine Augen weiteten sich. Was hatte diese Frau da eben gesagt? Einen Penis
schrumpfen? Ich wollte das nicht glauben.
Doch Ingeborg zeigte sich interessiert an der Technik: „Erklären Sie mir
bitte, wie das geht“, bat sie Frau Ontaria. „Gut, diese Maschine ist in der
Lage einen Penis zu komprimieren. Dazu wird der Penis in dieses Plexiglasrohr
gesteckt und das Rohrende sehr fest an den Körper des Mannes gedrückt. Die
Position in der sich ihr ehemaliger Liebhaber jetzt befindet, ist wie
geschaffen dafür.“ Sie drehte sich zu Ingeborg und lachte. „Sehen Sie. Er
steckt schon drin“. Sie prüfte den festen Sitz des Rohrendes an meinem Körper.
„Sehr gut so“, sagte sie, „in dieses Rohr wird gleich eine chemische
Flüssigkeit gepumpt, die bewirkt, dass sich die Blutgefässe des Penis
verkleinern. Um diesen Vorgang zu beschleunigen, baut der unterhalb des Rohres
befindliche Kompressor einen sehr hohen Überdruck auf, so dass der Penis
kontinuierlich geschrumpft wird. Die Gummidichtung am oberen Rand des Rohres,
verhindert ein Entweichen der Flüssigkeit.“ Sie übergab Ingeborg eine
Fernbedienung, die die Maschine einschalten und auch den Druck regulieren
konnte. „Sie entscheiden wann Schluss ist. Sie sind also verantwortlich für
das Strafmaß, ich stelle nur die Möglichkeiten zur Verfügung. Bedenken sie
bitte, dass der Vorgang nicht rückgängig zu machen ist.“, betonte sie.
„Die Vorstellung macht mich richtig scharf“, sagte Inge. „Der Kerl hat mich
benutzt und dann weggestoßen, jetzt wird er sehen, was er davon hat!“ Sie
drückte den Power-Knopf. Die Maschine setze sich in Betrieb. Frau Ontaria
platzierte noch einen Spiegel vor mir, so dass ich genau mit ansehen konnte
was nun geschehen würde. Eine hellgrüne Flüssigkeit stieg langsam im Rohr auf.
Langsam benetzte sie meinen Schwanz bis das Rohr vollständig gefüllt war. Sie
war sehr kühl. „Lassen Sie es ruhig ein wenig wirken, bis sie in die nächste
Stufe schalten“, empfahl Frau Ontaria. Dann setzte sie sich auf den Stuhl mit
der Fickmaschine. „Wir lassen uns derweil ein wenig verwöhnen“, sagte sie dann
und schaltete die Maschinen ein. Die Abbilder meines Schwanzes, die als Dildos
auf den Geräten montiert waren, setzten sich in Bewegung. Lady Ontaria entfuhr
ein überraschtes „uuhh“, als der Gummi-Pint in sie hinein fuhr. Ingeborg
lachte, sie war die Größe ja durch mich gewohnt. Sie sah mir ins Gesicht: „Ja,
schau es Dir gut an, so hättest Du es mir noch lange besorgen dürfen, wenn Du
nicht so unverschämt mit mir Schluss gemacht hättest. Kein Mann macht einfach
so mit mir Schluss! Und jetzt mein Lieber, folgt die Bestrafung!“ Sie drückte
die Progammablauftaste auf der Fernbedienung und ich begann zu spüren, wie die
kalte Flüssigkeit immer stärker unter Druck gesetzt wurde. „Bitte Ingeborg,
lass doch Gnade ergehen“, flehte ich sie an. Doch sie tat so, als könnte sie
mich nicht mehr hören. Sie lehnte sich zurück und ließ sich von der
Fickmaschine stoßen. Der Anblick erregte mich. Doch ich bekam auch Angst, sie
setzte Ihr Vorhaben gnadenlos um. Lady Ontaria beobachtete das Geschehen
aufmerksam. Auch Ihr Anblick machte mich heiß, der Dildo, der durch das Loch
im Stuhl in sie eindrang, spreizte ihre Muschi ganz schön. Dann sah ich in den
Spiegel, tatsächlich, es kam wie angekündigt, mein Penis wurde kleiner. Nach
einer Viertelstunde hatte er nur noch 75% der Ursprungsgröße und nach weiteren
fünfzehn Minuten war er auf 10 cm schlaff geschrumpft. Nicht unbedingt
mickrig, aber schon weit von seiner ursprünglichen, stattlichen Größe
entfernt. Mir wurde heiss und kalt. Ingeborg richtete sich auf. „Na bitte, es
funktioniert ja“. „Sehen Sie, ich habe nicht zuviel versprochen“, bestätigte
Frau Ontaria.
„Jetzt hat er Normalmaße“. „Wollen sie stoppen?“, fragte Frau Ontaria. „Nein“,
sagte Ingeborg, „dann wäre es ja keine richtige Strafe“. Sie drehte noch ein
wenig am Regler, der Druck erhöhte sich weiter. Langsam sah ich meine
Männlichkeit weiter schwinden. Frau Ontaria schien besorgt. Sie hielt ein cm-
Maß an das Glasrohr. „Sehen sie nur, er ist jetzt auf 6 cm geschrumpft. Denken
sie nicht, dass das reicht?“
„Nein“, sagte Ingeborg entschlossen, „ich habe mir vorgenommen, ihm einen
Micropenis zu verpassen. Und die sind ja bekanntlich nur 2 - 3 cm lang.“
Ingeborg schaltete noch eine Druckstufe höher. Im Spiegel sah ich den
Schrumpfungsprozess voranschreiten. Ich war entsetzt und sprachlos vor
Fassungslosigkeit. Ingeborg hingegen bekam ihren dritten Orgasmus auf der
Fickmaschine.
Ermattet schaltete sie die Fickmaschine ab, auch die Maschine von Frau
Ontaria, die zwischenzeitlich wieder auf dem Stuhl platz genommen hatte, kam
zur Ruhe und der Kolben rutsche aus ihrer mittlerweile klatschnassen Muschi.
„O.K., genug“, sagte sie jetzt. Die Helfer entfernten das Rohr und verluden
die Maschine wieder. Mein Schwänzchen wurde mit einem Wasserschlauch
abgespritzt. „Sehr schön“, sagte Ingeborg, während sie mit ihrem Zeigefinger
an meinem jetzt Kleinen herumspielte. „Jetzt ist er wieder im Vorschulalter.“
Sogleich nahm sie den Kugelvibrator zur Hand und schaltete ihn ein. „Jetzt
werde ich noch prüfen, ob er steif auch schön klein ist, wovon ich aber
ausgehe“.
In mir stieg Zorn auf. Was dachte sich diese Frau eigentlich? Aber ich ließ es
über mich ergehen. Mit dem Vibrator versteifte sie meinen Winzling. Er kam auf
5 cm Länge und war nur noch 2 cm im Durchmesser. „Ihre Maschine ist wirklich
effektiv“, lobte sie noch einmal Frau Ontaria. Dann wichste sie meinen Mini-
Pint drei vier mal zwischen Daumen und Zeigefinger und sagte: „Viel Spaß ab
heute mit Deinem Schwänzchen!“ Dann ging sie lachend weg. Frau Ontaria
verabschiedete sich noch von mir, die Helfer räumten alles auf und schlossen
mich dann unbekleidet in einen Spind der Damenumkleidekabine. Ein wenig zu
Essen legten sie mir mit hinein. Dann verschwanden Sie.
Ich trommelte gegen die Tür, doch niemand hörte mich, es war stockfinster.
Irgendwann schlief ich ein. Am nächsten Morgen hörte ich Stimmen. Eine Damen-
Handballmannschaft kam zum Wellness. Das Schloß des Spinds sprang auf und ich
wankte heraus, ein wenig geblendet vom hellen Licht in der Umkleide. Die
Frauen erschraken im ersten Moment. Dann sahen sie mich ganz und nach dem eine
meinte, dies wäre doch die Damenumkleidekabine, entgegnete eine andere,
während sie mit dem Finger auf meinen Penis zeigte: „Na, das wollen wir doch
mal gelten lassen …“
please mail comments and critics
* * * |
C'étaient les couilles de Nicolas (2) | GAY, PENECTOMY, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION | Nicolas, un jeune parisien qui cherche sa voie, la trouve dans un parcours de soumission | Le męme soir, juste au moment oů j’allais me coucher, le téléphone sonna. Au
bout du fil, une voix grave que je ne connaissais pas.
« J’appelle de la part de l’agence. Avez-vous bien reçu la série de photos ? »
Devant ma réponse affirmative, il reprit :
« Votre candidature nous intéresse. Etes-vous toujours décidé ŕ nous rejoindre
? »
Mon cśur s’était emballé, et j’avais du mal ŕ réprimer le tremblement qui
s’était emparé de tout mon corps. La gorge serrée, je répondis encore une fois
que oui.
« C’est tout ce que nous voulions savoir. Nous vous recontacterons. » Et il
raccrocha, me laissant dans un état de frustration difficile ŕ décrire, męme
si je me rendais parfaitement compte qu’il faisait partie d’une stratégie
destinée ŕ me rendre fou d’impatience.
Deux jours aprčs, je reçus la troisičme enveloppe. Seule la présence dans
l’ascenseur de ma vieille voisine me retint de l’ouvrir avant d’ętre arrivé
chez moi.
Elle ne contenait que deux clichés. Sur le premier, le beau brun était allongé
sur une table d’opération, les deux pieds calés dans des étriers. Entre ses
jambes ouvertes, deux mains gantées de latex s’affairaient ; l’une tenait
fermement le pénis que l’autre était en train de sectionner ŕ la base, au
scalpel... L’organe n’était plus rattaché au corps que par une étroite bande
de peau sanguinolente. La deuxičme photographie avait dű ętre prise quelques
mois aprčs l’opération . Le jeune homme (comment devais-je le nommer désormais
?) posait souriant, face ŕ l’objectif, allongé sur un sofa. On avait laissé
repousser ses poils pubiens, qui formaient un épais triangle dont la pointe
aboutissait ŕ un petit orifice rosâtre situé un peu en avant de l’anus...
Totalement fasciné par ce que je voyais, je m’étais assis dans le hall de mon
appartement. Je bandais comme un malade, incapable de détacher les yeux de ces
quelques centimčtres carrés de papier glacé. Des fous furieux.... J’allais me
livrer ŕ une bande de fous, qui allaient se livrer sur moi ŕ une boucherie que
j’appelais pourtant de tous mes vśux. J’étais terrorisé, mais cette horreur
qui m’envahissait était délicieuse. Je déboutonnai fébrilement la ceinture de
mon jean pour libérer ma bite qui semblait animée d’une vie indépendante
tellement elle palpitait. A peine ŕ l’air libre, elle laissa échapper un flot
de sperme qui me sembla ne jamais devoir s’arręter. Encore une fois – était-ce
un signe de mon destin ? – j’avais joui sans męme avoir ŕ me donner la moindre
caresse...
Comme il fallait s’y attendre, ce paroxysme fut suivi du silence radio
habituel ; je m’y attendais, et ne m’inquiétai donc pas de voir passer les
semaines sans recevoir d’autres nouvelles de mes mystérieux correspondants.
J’avais repris la routine de mes rendez-vous bihebdomadaires avec Christian :
je suçais, me faisais besogner réguličrement par mon Maître ou les amis
auxquels il me prętait réguličrement ; j’arrivais męme ŕ prendre du plaisir de
temps en temps, mais d’une maničre générale j’étais déjŕ ailleurs...
L’appel se produisit en plein milieu d’une nuit de mars. Réveillé en sursaut,
je m’apprętais ŕ agonir d’injure le malheureux qui s’était permis
d’interrompre mon sommeil, mais ma premičre protestation s’étrangla dans ma
gorge quand je reconnus la voix qui m’avait appelé la fois précédente.
« Nous voudrions savoir oů en sont vos motivations... » énonça simplement mon
interlocuteur.
« Mon désir le plus fort est de vous servir quoiqu’il m’en coűte, Maître... »
Sans y réfléchir le moins du monde, j’avais pris une voix soumise, pou
proférer cette énormité, comme si c’était la chose la plus naturelle qui soit.
Le ton de mon interlocuteur changea immédiatement.
« As-tu bien compris qu’il ne s’agit en rien d’une plaisanterie, et que si tu
nous rejoins, tu devras au minimum nous donner tes couilles, et męme trčs
vraisemblablement ta bite ? »
Dans un souffle, je répondis que je le savais, et que j’y étais pręt.
Mon correspondant me donna alors, d’un ton qui n’admettait aucune question,
les instructions auxquelles j’avais un mois pour me conformer. Je devais me
débarrasser de tout ce que je possédais, quitter mon travail, solder mon
compte en banque, bref couper tous les liens qui me rattachaient au monde
normal, en ne conservant que mon passeport. Quand je serais pręt, je devais
appeler un numéro qu’il me laissa ; on me donnerait alors les derničres
consignes qui précéderaient mon départ.
Est-il besoin de dire que je ne fermai pas l’śil de la nuit ?
Dčs le début de la matinée, je me rendis chez Christian ŕ qui je racontai ces
derniers événements. Je crois que j’avais quand męme besoin de me faire
rassurer quant ŕ mon entreprise, et mon ami fut parfait, comme ŕ son ordinaire
. Quand je ressortis de chez lui, une heure plus tard, mes derniers doutes
étaient envolés, et c’est plein d’assurance que je posai dans la foulée les
premiers jalons de ma disparition : je pris pour le lendemain un rendez-vous
avec un agent immobilier pour la vente de mon appartement, et remis l’aprčs-
midi męme ma démission ŕ mon chef de service, qui l’accueillit d’ailleurs avec
la plus parfaite indifférence…
Je n’eus pas le loisir de trop penser ŕ mon futur dans les jours qui
suivirent, tellement j’eus l’impression d’ętre emporté dans un tourbillon que
je maîtrisais plus ; ce n’est pas aussi simple qu’on pourrait le croire de
couper les ponts avec tout ce qui a fait une vie : on vous presse de questions
qu’il est parfois difficile d’éluder, on rencontre toujours une bonne âme qui
tente de vous persuader que vous faites fausse route… bref, il me fallut toute
la détermination du monde pour résister aux pressions de toutes sortes dont je
fus l’objet durant quelques semaines.
Arriva enfin le moment oů tout fut réglé : j’avais vendu l’appartement – ŕ
perte, évidemment, puisque l’agent immobilier avait parfaitement perçu mon
impatience de m’en défaire et qu’il en avait honteusement profité , m’étais
débarrassé de mes meubles et de tous mes effets personnels, j’avais placé
l’argent qui me restait sur un compte d’épargne sans savoir si j’aurais encore
un jour la possibilité de le récupérer, j’avais un passeport tout neuf …. Un
soir de mai, je décidai donc d’appeler le numéro que j’avais précieusement
conservé, pour dire que j’étais pręt.
C’est le męme homme que la fois précédente qui décrocha ; il me reconnut
parfaitement, et, sans perdre de temps, il me donna donc les instructions
concernant mon départ : j’ avais rendez-vous le surlendemain ŕ 22 heures sur
le quai des RER pour l’aéroport de Roissy, oů l’on « me prendrait en charge ».
Je devais me présenter sans aucun bagage, juste muni de mon passeport. Tout
mon corps, ŕ l’exception de mes sourcils et de mes cils, devait ętre
intégralement rasé.
A peine eut-il raccroché que j’appelai Christian. Il n’eut besoin que
d’entendre le son de ma voix pour comprendre ce qui m’arrivait. Il m’ordonna
de passer chez lui sans attendre. J’étais trop sonné pour opposer la moindre
résistance, et trčs honnętement, si nerveux que je n’aurais certainement fait
que des bętises si j’étais resté seul.
Je me retrouvai donc dans son salon une heure plus tard, en train d’exposer le
dernier épisode de mon aventure ŕ un Christian comme toujours concentré et
prévenant. Il trouva les mots qu’il fallait pour me rassurer, évidement, et me
proposa – ce qui ne s’était jamais produit depuis le début de notre relation-
de passer la nuit avec lui. Trop angoissé pour supporter l’idée de me
retrouver entre les quatre murs de mon appartement vide, j’acceptai et me
retrouvai finalement au fond de son lit, fermement enserré entre deux bras
protecteurs. Quand il sentit ma respiration se faire plus calme, il commença ŕ
me caresser légčrement la poitrine, en s’attardant sur la pointe de mes tétons
que je sentis durcir sous la stimulation. Les cercles que dessinaient ses
doigts sur ma peau s’élargirent peu ŕ peu, pour atteindre mon bas-ventre. Je
tressaillis quand je les sentis se poser sur mes couilles et commencer ŕ les
malaxer doucement, et me laissai envahir par la sensation qui montait en moi
en męme temps que je sentais mon sexe durcir. Je m’abandonnais en fermant les
yeux, savourant chaque instant d’un plaisir d’autant plus précieux que jamais
Christian ne m’avait prodigué de pareilles faveurs. Quand je sentis ses lčvres
se poser sur mon gland et l’engloutir progressivement, je poussai un
rugissement qui dut s’entendre dans l’ensemble de l’immeuble. Christian
s’activait sur ma queue avec une énergie savante, arrachant des ondes de
plaisir ŕ la moindre parcelle de ma peau. Je savais que je ne pourrais pas
résister bien longtemps au torrent qui inexorablement me submergeait. Quand je
sentis ses doigts se frayer un chemin ŕ l’intérieur de mon cul, c’en fut trop
: j’explosai dans sa bouche en jets puissants, une jouissance sans doute
décuplée par la forme complčtement inattendue qu’ elle avait prise. Jamais, au
grand jamais, je ne me serais attendu ŕ pareil traitement de la part que
quelqu’un dont je connaissais les penchants exclusivement dominateurs.
Comme je m’en étonnais doucement auprčs de lui aprčs avoir repris quelque peu
mes esprits, il me répondit en souriant que cela faisait partie des « cadeaux
d’adieu » dont il tenait absolument ŕ me gratifier avant notre séparation.
Quand je repense aujourd’hui ŕ cette soirée et ŕ celle qui suivit, j’ai le
cśur un peu serré : qu’es-tu devenu depuis que je suis parti ? T’arrive-t-il
encore quelquefois de penser ŕ moi ? N’avais-je pas trouvé une forme
d’équilibre dans cette relation qui s’était établie entre nous, malgré le
sentiment de frustration qui s’emparait ŕ certains moments de moi ?
La nuit se termina aussi tendrement qu’elle avait commencé. Christian insista
pour que je passe la journée chez lui, préoccupé apparemment ŕ l’idée de me
laisser livré ŕ moi-męme pendant cette avant derničre journée. Je refusai
cependant, et prétextai des démarches de derničre minute pour m’éclipser, sans
me voir toutefois fermement prié de revenir avant le début de la soirée….
Il me restait ŕ vider mon appartement des quelques traces de moi qui y
restaient encore, et c’est ce ŕ quoi je m’employai une grande partie de la
journée. Pour ma derničre nuit ŕ Paris, deux possibilités s’offraient ŕ moi :
soit dormir ŕ l’hôtel, soit revenir chez mon mentor, avec bien sűr le risque
d’ętre, comme la nuit précédente, submergé par un déluge de sentiments
contradictoires… C’est pourtant cette solution que je choisis, et je me
retrouvai donc une seconde fois face ŕ Christian, qui semblait
particuličrement heureux de me voir ŕ ses côtés.
La soirée commença dans un petit restaurant de Montmartre, oů il m’invita
avant de m’emmener prendre un verre dans un bar cuir que nous avions parfois
l’habitude de fréquenter tous les deux.
Je n’osai pas refuser, de peur de le froisser, mais il n’y avait pas besoin
d’ętre grand clerc pour se rendre compte que les simagrées de la plupart des
clients m’insupportaient désormais : je voyais la part de frustration et de
mensonges qui se cachait derričre chacun des visages qui m’entouraient, et, un
peu orgueilleusement, je me sentais bien supérieur ŕ eux : moi, au moins, je
m’apprętais ŕ aller jusqu’au bout de mon phantasme, au lieu de m’en tenir ŕ de
pitoyables simulations…
De retour ŕ l’appartement, Christian recommença ŕ s’occuper de moi avec la
męme sollicitude que la veille : d’abord un peu réticent – je me demandais
s’il n’allait pas finir par me jouer la grande scčne de la révélation
amoureuse, ce qui ŕ l’époque m’aurait mis dans un embarras indescriptible, je
me laissai finalement faire : aprčs tout, une jouissance qui serait peut-ętre
l’une des derničres de ma vie d’homme ne pouvait pas décemment se refuser. Et
le cercle du plaisir recommença. Flottant sur un nuage béat, je me laissais
faire, savourant chacune des caresses que me prodiguait celui qui avait été
mon Maître. Brusquement, il s’arręta, me regarda de ses yeux rieurs et,
s’allongeant sur le dos, m’attira ŕ lui en disant « Viens ». Il me fallut
quelques secondes pour réaliser ce qu’il attendait de moi, avant que se
dissipent les brumes de mon cerveau quand je le vis écarter les cuisses et
commencer ŕ se masser l’anus.
« - Allons, viens ! ne me dis pas que tu n’en as jamais eu envie… Tu n’as
jamais songé, quand je te torturais, ŕ me faire payer les humiliations que je
t’imposais en me traitant ŕ ton tour comme un simple trou ? Tu serais bien le
premier… Toutes les merdes de ton genre ręvent d’enculer leur maître, pourquoi
ferais-tu exception ? Et puis n’oublie pas qu’aprčs-demain, tu n’auras peut-
ętre plus rien entre les jambes ; ça ne te tente pas de goűter une derničre
fois au plaisir de baiser ? »
Piqué au vif par son ton ironique, je regardai ma queue : elle n’avait pas
attendu, elle, l’invitation pour faire comprendre ce qu’elle voulait : agitée
de pulsations incontrôlables, elle laissait échapper un écoulement continu qui
avait provoqué une petite mare sur le drap …
Je mis les jambes de Christian sur mes épaules, et m’allongeai sur lui. Sa
rondelle résista d’abord un peu, puis s’ouvrit pour m’accueillir. Je sentis
une chaleur délicieuse irradier dans mon bas ventre, et commençai ŕ aller et
venir dans le cul qui s’offrait ŕ moi. Je ne crois pas avoir dans ma vie
ressenti de pareil plaisir… Toute faculté de réflexion m’avait abandonné : je
n’étais plus que ces quelques centimčtres carrés de peau au bord de
l’explosion, qui cherchaient avidement ŕ s’enfoncer toujours plus loin. Autour
du pieu qui le transperçait, Christian semblait lui aussi apprécier l’exercice
: il ondulait sous mes coups de boutoir, accompagnant mes gémissements, et la
vue de ce mâle poilu complčtement abandonné décuplait mes sensations. Je ne
tardai pas ŕ ressentir, au creux des reins, le chatouillement annonciateur de
la jouissance. Elle fut fulgurante, totale, définitive…
Christian , quelques instants aprčs moi, explosa ŕ son tour, laissant échapper
des flots de sperme qui m’inondčrent le torse. Il m’avoua quelques minutes
plus tard que le fait de s’ętre fait enculer par une bite qu’on allait couper
l’avait excité au plus haut point.
(ŕ suivre)
* * * |
Chad's Adjustment Part4 | GAY, STRAIGHT, PENECTOMY, MINOR | Dr. Stone is persuasive. | Chad’s Adjustment Part 4
By Nickolai
“No, wait!”
Dr. Stone stopped at the lounge door with his hand on the doorknob to hear
what Albert had to say.
“What if you cut off his nuts instead?”
The doctor smiled. The daddy was coming around. Albert was prepared to make a
sacrifice after all. Chad’s genitals were on the table, and the question of
which part or parts the young jock would still have hanging between his legs
when he left the clinic was now open for negotiation and persuasion.
Dr. Stone returned to the front of the room, where Albert was standing with
one knee on the sofa and with both hands gripping the armrest.
“I mean, if he didn’t have his balls, that would change him, wouldn’t it? Not
that he wouldn’t miss them, or that I want them gone, but wouldn’t that stop
him from going after girls?”
The doctor stepped onto the platform and took a seat on the sofa. Albert sat
back down.
“Mr. Johnson, I see that you care about your son very deeply, and I can
appreciate that you only want what’s best for him. I sympathize with your
concerns, truly. I regret my harsh words earlier. But you must understand that
we are the experts in these matters. If I thought castration would solve
Chad’s problem, believe me, I would not hesitate for a moment to walk in
there, slice open his sack, cut off those fat low-hangers, and pronounce him
‘cured.’ Had you been able to get him to us sooner, at puberty say, before his
sexuality became established and the damage was done, that might have
sufficed, and his cock could have been salvaged. Alas, that horse has left the
stable and has been frolicking in the pasture for too many years now.”
“I only first heard about you last month.”
“I realize that, it couldn’t be helped. But we are not living in fantasyland
here. We must take the boy as we find him.”
“So you’re saying castration wouldn’t make any difference at this point?”
“Not for what we wish to accomplish, I’m afraid. Chad’s sperm count would drop
to zero and he would be incapable of fathering any natural children,
obviously. If our aim was to save you money on condom purchases, we could cut
off his balls and declare success. In most respects, however, his orientation
and behavior patterns would remain unchanged. His sex drive might diminish,
but even that is not guaranteed. Many eunuchs remain perfectly capable of
erection. To the extent that he could still get it hard, Chad would continue
to search for girl pussy he could stick his eunuch dick into. When he beat his
eunuch meat he would still be thinking about some cute little cheerleader with
perky tits, and not his daddy.”
“I guess I can understand that, but I don’t see how cutting off his cock would
really change anything, either.”
“Penectomy has a number of beneficial impacts on the patient, both
psychological and practical, that work toward our purpose. But, before
expanding on those, I think it would be helpful to explore some of your own
issues with the procedure. Now, I’m a surgeon, not a psychologist, but I
believe I am detecting an element of denial that prevents you from seeing the
situation clearly.”
“What do you mean?”
“Let’s start by taking a look at your relationship with Chad, and how we
arrived at the place we are today. I’m not making any accusations here, but
sometimes daddies with problem boys try to win them over by giving them
presents and granting privileges—trying to buy their love, in other words.
Unfortunately, if the daddy fails to follow through with reciprocal demands,
this tactic has the effect of spoiling the boy without bringing him any
closer. He takes the gifts as his due, and continues on his selfish path.”
From Albert’s rapt attention, Dr. Stone could see he was using the right bait.
He continued.
“Deep down, the boy is suffering. He yearns for closeness with his daddy. He
needs that strong, guiding presence in his life. But his daddy’s attempts to
bribe him have filled him with nothing but contempt. He begins to search
elsewhere for the affection he craves.”
“You mean like Chad’s hookups with girls?”
“Exactly. Chad has lurched from pussy to pussy, getting his rocks off in a
futile effort to fill the emptiness that gnaws at him. This has gone on for so
long he has forgotten what it is he’s really looking for. The sex becomes an
end in itself.”
“But how will cutting off his dick bring him back?”
“Well, on a practical level, he won’t be able to fuck any girls without one,
now will he? But getting back to your relationship, let me show something.”
The doctor scooted across the couch next to Albert and tugged at the sash
holding his bathrobe together.
“Do you mind?”
“No, I guess not. Go ahead.”
The doctor untied the sash and pulled open the bathrobe, revealing the daddy
in all his naked, furry glory. He rubbed his hand over Albert’s chest. “A
fine, manly pelt,” he said. “And this…” He burrowed between Albert’s legs and
grabbed his flaccid member. “This is a strong, distinguished, sturdy piece of
manhood.”
“Ah, thanks, I guess,” said Albert, somewhat abashed.
“Any boy would be proud to call you daddy.”
“Maybe it’s a little bigger than average. It’s nothing compared to what Chad
has, though.”
The doctor released Albert’s cock and slapped him on the knee. “That is the
crux of the problem! Chad is under the delusion that he has outgrown the need
for his daddy. He thinks that, perhaps, now he is even the bigger man. He
arrogantly presumes that he has become independent and self-sufficient. He
confidently struts about, believing himself to be a man among men. With the
adjustment, we shatter these illusions, and reveal to him that inside, he is
still the scared little boy who needs his daddy’s protection.”
“You know, this is beginning to make sense to me.” Albert looked at the now-
curtained window behind which Chad lay sleeping in the examination room.
“Still, I had this hope...”
“You hoped that, with a reorientation, Chad’s cock would become part of your
lovemaking.”
“Well, yes. He has such a nice one...”
“This is an illusion that you need to overcome. In our experience, a cock that
has developed a craving for pussy is virtually useless for most normal daddy
sexual purposes. Admittedly, Chad’s cock is quite decorative, but as you
stated previously, as things now stand, he doesn’t even let you see it, so
what good is it?
“Well, that’s true, it’s not like I’ve been getting much use out of it.”
“Mr. Johnson, you have to come to terms with the fact that you never will.
It’s not going to happen. As long as Chad has that thing between his legs, it
will stand as a barrier between the two of you and your happiness together. It
is a sword that is keeping you at bay.”
Albert sighed heavily and pondered. “OK, let’s say we went ahead with it.
Wouldn’t he still be thinking about girls? I mean, you said yourself he’s as
heterosexual as it gets.”
“This is where the psychological aspects of the procedure come into play. As
much as he might desire her company, no self-respecting dickless young man
would dare reveal his shame to a girl he fancies. He would rather die than
risk exposing himself to the ridicule he might face. So now his loving daddy
has the chance once again to assume his rightful place, to take the boy into
his arms and offer comfort and solace.”
Albert face brightened. “I can see where that might happen. And he would be
able to keep his balls?”
“We could remove them if you’d like, but the sexual tension that builds up in
a boy who is no longer able to masturbate properly provides another opening
for the daddy. Girls may not want to have anything to do with him anymore, but
his daddy stands ready to suckle his little nub and massage his prostate to
give him his needed release.”
“I would be happy to do that for Chad!”
“As their intimacies develop, we find that boys who were previously
indifferent often become fascinated with their daddies’ cocks. Even the
straightest of boys will begin to miss the presence of a dick in his life. His
daddy’s penis becomes the substitute for what he is missing. He wants to touch
it, he wants to suck it, and ultimately, he wants it buried deep inside him.
It becomes his sacred totem, the source and symbol of manhood that will guard
him and nourish throughout his life.”
”When you put it that way, it all sounds pretty wonderful.”
“I’ve seen it work many times. It’s a beautiful thing, truly, the father-son
bonding that can come from this kind of shared sacrifice.”
“Well doctor, I never thought I would say this, but you almost have me
convinced that this adjustment is the best thing for Chad.”
“There are good, sound reasons why it has become the standard procedure, and
indeed, the foundation of our successful reorientation efforts.”
“I understand that now, but one thing is still bothering me. Won’t Chad hate
me if I let this happen? If Chad blames me for getting his dick cut off, and
then turns against me, it wouldn’t be worth it. I couldn’t live with myself if
it came to that!”
“Hmm, yes. I can see where that might be problematic. Let me think about that
for a moment.”
The concept of taking into consideration how a boy might feel about his
adjustment, or whether he might object, was an unfamiliar one for the doctor.
With clones that was never a question. Dr. Stone had played all his cards, and
now, with Chad’s cock nearly within his grasp, here was a roadblock he hadn’t
accounted for that threatened to stymie the entire effort. For a long minute
he sat on the sofa, chin in his hand, tapping his lips with his forefinger.
Then he had an idea.
“Mr. Johnson, you knew nothing of Chad’s life before you met and married his
mother, is that correct?”
“They were complete strangers to me, actually, until four months before we got
married.”
“Perfect! I think I have a plan that will work to take any burden of
responsibility for the procedure completely off of your shoulders, as far as
Chad is concerned. However, its success will depend on your answer to one
important question: Just how dim-witted and gullible is Chad?”
* * *
Dr. Stone watched with satisfaction as Albert signed the release forms.
“I’m confident the Institute will send us the official authorization for
Chad’s acceptance into the clone template program within the next day or two.
Obviously we are expecting their final stamp of approval to be nothing but a
mere formality at this point, or we would not be proceeding here today. But
you know how bureaucracies are, they have to dot all the ‘i’s and cross all
the ‘t’s. I’ll leave you with the full packet of forms and stipulations so
that you can review them while I prep Chad for surgery.”
“You realize that I’m going to want to have my lawyers look all this over
before I sign the final papers,” said Albert.
“Certainly,” said the doctor. “That’s understood. But let me take this
opportunity to commend you for your generosity in agreeing in principle to
move forward. You might not have thought of it in these terms, but what you
are doing is providing a great service to humanity. Your decision to permit
Chad’s enrollment in the template program will help make the world a brighter
place. Just think of how much joy we will bring to the lives of countless
lonely, sex-starved men by giving them the chance to acquire their own little
Chads. The future impact is incalculable. One can’t put a dollar figure on
that kind of happiness.”
“That humanitarian stuff is all well and good,” said Albert. “I’m not
expecting a medal. But I am expecting my accountants to receive regular
reports outlining when, where, and how many clones numbered model 39 are sold,
along with details of the purchase price and any add-ons or deductions for
shipping, handling and marketing. And those royalty checks better show up on
time.”
Albert was the first to admit he was a sentimental sap when it came to Chad,
but he didn’t become a successful businessman by disregarding the bottom line.
* * *
Chad awoke with a start, and opened his eyes. The doctor hovered over him with
a syringe in his hand.
“I trust you had a nice nap.”
Chad tried to rise, but the doctor’s hand placed firmly on his chest held him
down.
“Relax,” said the doctor. “Your charts show that we need to bring your
immunizations up to date.”
Before he could react, the doctor jabbed the needle into Chad’s neck and
pushed the plunger. Almost immediately, the boy felt like someone had pulled
the plug on every major muscle of his body.
The doctor looked at his watch. After thirty seconds, he picked up Chad’s arm
and let it go. It dropped to the table with a thud.
“Now, blink your eyes for me please.”
Chad blinked.
“Good.”
Chad tried to speak, but his tongue lay in his mouth like a wet sponge. A
strangled moan was all he could manage.
“Don’t be alarmed,” said the doctor. “The effect is only temporary. We often
see this reaction with the new vaccine combination. The paralysis should wear
off completely in about 45 minutes or so.”
The doctor picked up another syringe from the tray.
“Your father tells me you are sexually active, so I’ll be giving you a few
shots down there now to ward off any nasty diseases.”
The doctor grabbed Chad’s limp penis and stretched it as far as it would go.
Then he stuck the needle into his groin as its base and emptied the contents
of the syringe. He released the organ and gently stroked it along its sides.
It quickly swelled into a rampant erection as the sensory enhancer worked its
magic. The drug would multiply by several times over any sensations, of either
pleasure or pain, the boy experienced through his cock over the next two
hours, or more precisely, for as long as it was still attached to Chad. The
doctor firmly believed in the anti-anesthetic approach to penectomy. It seemed
fitting, somehow, that losing his manhood should be the most painfully
excruciating experience of a boy’s life.
Taking the last loaded syringe from the tray in hand, the doctor moved to
Chad’s scrotum. He gathered up the loose testicles and held them. They were a
handsome pair, and he felt sorry that he wouldn’t be taking them as well.
Still, in the give and take with Albert over the fate of Chad’s genitals, the
doctor felt he got the better end of the bargain, and he might get them yet
someday. It wasn’t unheard of for dickless boys to beg their daddies to have
them castrated when their sexual frustrations became unbearable.
The doctor lifted the sack and pushed the needle in underneath, giving Chad
the final injection. The ejaculation blocker would remain effective for up to
a month, denying Chad the ability to come no matter how aroused he might get,
or much semen he had stored up in the interim. Recalling the flood the youth
pumped out earlier at the hands of Nurse Lindstrom, the doctor imagined the
first load Chad shared with his daddy after he began to heal would be quite
memorable.
With a bit of light tickling Chad’s sensitized penis was as hard as it could
get. It pulsed along with Chad’s heartbeat. The doctor pulled out the ruler
and surgical marking pen from his pocket. Drawing the line was more of an art
than a science. There was a bit of interplay between harvesting a maximum
specimen while at the same time leaving an attractive, serviceable stump. The
contours and vein placement of the particular penis also played a role. With a
dick the size of Chad’s, the doctor decided he could afford to be generous. He
gave Albert an extra half-inch beyond the usual stub. He would still have
nearly 8 inches of prime cock for his collection. What a prize specimen! He
would need to order a new display case to highlight this trophy, and to
provide space for representative samples of Chad’s future clone progeny at all
stages of development.
Over the years Dr. Stone had amassed the most comprehensive collection of
preserved clone genitalia west of the Mississippi, indeed one of the finest in
the world. Started as a private hobby, as the number of specimens grew the
collection became an unofficial showroom of sorts, with prospective clients
from around the globe visiting to contrast and compare features of the various
clone models they considered purchasing, and to see how their choices would
develop over time.
The collection also proved useful for educational purposes. It was quite
instructive for an uncooperative young clone to see what happened to naughty
boys who failed to put out or otherwise follow their daddies’ commands,
particularly when the boy could see that a specimen in the display case,
donated by his unfortunate clone brother, exactly matched the equipment he
himself still carried between his own little legs. Thereafter, a suggestion
from his daddy that it might be time to “visit Dr. Stone” was enough to keep
many a boy in line. In the narrow world of the boy clone fraternity, the name
“Dr. Stone” carried a whispered menace, like “the Boogeyman” among ordinary
human children, except much more vivid and threatening.
The “before” and “after” photos that accompanied each specimen in the
collection provided inspiration for some daddies. They would bring boys in for
adjustments who had exhibited no real behavioral problems at all. The daddy
was simply captivated by a “no cock,” “no balls,” or completely smooth look he
had seen portrayed in the gallery and decided he wanted the same for his boy.
Dr. Stone crouched to take in a side view of Chad’s cock. He wanted to be sure
that he preserved this exact gentle upward curve he found so sensual and
appealing. An original template! It would be the crown jewel of his entire
collection. He was aware of the rumored existence of only one other preserved
original template penis specimen, and that was supposedly stashed in a private
collection in Dubrovnik. What became of the others he had no idea. He imagined
the Institute had at least a few stored in their vaults.
Even for a secretive organization like the Institute, the entire subject of
original templates was an extraordinarily closely guarded secret, shrouded and
locked away in the inner sanctum of deepest mystery. Who they were, where they
came from, their eventual fates—it was all a haze of rumor and conjecture. Not
even Dr. Stone had much of a clue, and he had been with the company for 17
years now.
The official Institute line was that the entire current clone model lineup,
based on 38 different templates, originated from tissue “donated to science”
after the donors were deceased. From internal corporate communications Dr.
Stone knew that was only a cover story, but those who could relate the full,
real story weren’t in a position to tell. To the best of his knowledge there
were no living templates. In fact, Chad might be the only one—but then,
possibly, not for too much longer. The doctor didn’t have the heart to tell
Albert that before the new model number 39 clones, based on Chad’s DNA, became
available for purchase in a few years time, the company would find it
expedient to “disappear” the original Chad—to break the mold, as it were. What
that actually entailed the doctor didn’t care to speculate. For all he knew,
Chad and his daddy might get sent off to an island somewhere to live out their
days happily ever after, partying night and day with original templates one
through 38. It wasn’t his department. He really did wish all the best for the
two of them in their future lives together, however long that might last.
Checking his watch, the doctor saw he had time for a little fun with the
helpless naked stud. He chose the young man’s left testicle. He grasped it and
pulled it sharply upwards until he heard Chad grunt. With the fingers of his
other hand he began to squeeze. He pinched the ball repeatedly, harder and
harder as Chad’s feeble moans grew ever more agonized and insistent and tears
formed in his eyes. The sadist cackled silently with glee. Now fully aroused
by the boy’s erotic groans, he released the tortured testicle and spoke to its
owner:
“I see your pain reflex is functioning properly. However, in going over your
blood work we noticed some anomalies. For one thing, you are low on proteins
and essential amino acids. Happily, there’s a quick and easy fix for that.”
He grabbed the teen under his armpits and pulled him sideways until he was
partly off the examination table. Chad’s head hung down limply. The doctor
unzipped his fly, extracted his penis, pried open Chad’s mouth, and inserted
his stiff member, pushing it in as far as it would go. “Yeah, take it, my soon
to be cockless jock boy,” he murmured. Chad gagged and choked and his face
grew scarlet as the doctor fucked his mouth. The doctor spurted in no time,
anticipating the full-throated screams he would soon be hearing when he
claimed the trophy he coveted.
He lifted Chad and positioned him back on the table. “You liked that, didn’t
you, you little whore.” Chad gurgled and blinked. “Good. I’ll be advising your
daddy to make liquid protein supplements a regular part of your diet.”
* * * |
CREATIVE SOLUTION ESPAŃOL | TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION | Una metodo para desmoralizar al enemigo resulta mejor de lo pensado. Este relato no es mio lo traduje de uno de esta pagina al autor gracias. suban sus relatos en espańol | Una cosa en la que no queremos ser implicado es otra vez es una guerra de
guerrillera. żQué vamos a hacer? Digo nosotros matamos a los bastardos o se
escapan. Nuestros muchachos mueren ahí porque estamos en toda esta mierda de
los derechos humanos. El General de cinco estrellas era mucho más sensible a
las pérdidas de que él quería reconocer. Él lo cubrió de bravuconería bélica.
żPero no matándolos derrotar al enemigo es nuestro objeto en primer lugar?
żRecuerde nuestra visión en una sociedad libre y democrática? La mujer que lo
dijo, era una mezcla extrańa de académica e idealismo algo casi irrealizable.
Ella estaba presente como la representante del Consejo de Ética, un puesto
recientemente creado y algo polémico.
Esta era nuestra ultima esperanza. Les dimos la posibilidad y ellos lo han
hecho volar. Si nos arrancamos ellos pueden regresar a la matanza del uno al
otro. El presidente de la reunión, un caballero de la vieja escuela, deseaba
que tomaran una decisión solo así podría fumar. Su necesidad por nicotina se
hacía urgente. Ni su carácter ni su concentración se centrarían hasta que él
lo consiguiera. Como ańoraba los días cuando en las reuniones como en ésta el
cuarto estaba lleno de humo. Y no había ninguna maldita mujer.
Podemos alcanzar nuestra misión, el hombre del territorio ocupado dijo. El
hombre del territorio ocupado no había dicho mucho hasta entonces. Y porque él
era el hombre sobre el terreno esto era la sensatez y la etiqueta buena para
escuchar a lo que él tenía que decir. Por favor díganos Sr. Warringer. żCómo
alcanzamos nuestra visión? "El Presidente dijo, deseando que los cigarros
cubanos que su cerebro había puesto en la mesa delante de él fueran
verdaderos. Warringer tomó su tiempo, enmarcando sus palabras con cuidado. Él
tenía que vender esta idea en beneficio de la gente del territorio ocupado. La
Mayoría de la gente allí es gente sencilla. Ellos solamente quieren llevarse
bien con sus vidas y criar a sus nińos hacia un mejor futuro. La mayoría de la
gente son decentes, gente que respeta la ley y de paz. A ellos les gustarían
para nuestra visión se hiciera realidad. Warringer hicieron una pausa para
respirar y examinar a su audiencia. Hasta ahora tan buena.
La gente del problema son pocos pero están bien organizados y sumamente
motivados. Su motivación es principalmente la avaricia. Ellos son avaros con
la riqueza y el poder. Ellos no dan nada por ninguna religión o ideología.
Pero ellos realmente explotan la religión y la ideología para sus propios
fines. Así es como ellos embaucan a sus tropas y tontos suicidas. Warringer
hizo una pausa otra vez. Ellos todavía escuchaban. Esto era bueno. No hay más
que veinte responsables de su organización. Ellos están bien protegidos y no
podemos acercarnos a ellos. Lo único que sabemos de ellos en donde están. Al
lado de ellos tenemos la capa media quien es responsable de poner en práctica
los ataques y los actos de sabotaje y el terrorismo. Conocemos a la mayor
parte de ellos. En el inferior tenemos sus tropas quien hacen las matanzas.
Ellos solamente hacen lo que les dicen y no es muy importante quienes son. Uno
es tan bueno o tan mal como el otro.
żCuál es su plan? Los exterminamos con el mínimo perjuicio. żQué usted
significa eso? En vez de matarlos los dejamos vivos, pero neutralizados. Ellos
no serán capaces de oponer oposición. Por favor hable claramente Sr.
Warringer. El presidente miraba fijamente a una línea de coro de tabaco cubano
que baila sobre la mesa. Él tenía que resistirse a la tentación de extender la
mano y agarrarlos. Él no estaba de buen humor para el coloquio de Warringer.
Hablo de castrar, cualquier alborotador que atrapemos los quitamos sus genes.
" Qué bien haría eso? El general de cinco estrellas quiso saber. Esto
significa que las setenta vírgenes que los esperan en el paraíso no podrán
hacer nada con ellos. Excepto lavar sus calcetines. Esto quita la principal
motivación de las tropas. Interesante. El general de cinco estrellas daba una
seria consideración al asunto. Algo qué mine la moral del enemigo estaba de
acuerdo con el. ˇAh! żUsted piensa castrarlos? El Consejero de Ética estaba
solamente un poquito lento sobre la respuesta pero ella pronto entró en de
lleno a la discusión. Eso constituiría una violación a los derechos humanos y
un crimen de guerra. Yo nunca podría permitir eso. Seria como la bomba de
Hiroshima, dijo el general. Esta salvó más vidas de las que destruyo. Nosotros
en realidad no mataríamos a nadie, " Warringer indico. Hemos perdido a 200
hombres en seis meses. No hay disminución en las matanzas. żQue son unos
huevos contra todo el dolor y sufriendo? El general miró de forma
significativa a la Consejera de Ética. Bien, cuando usted lo pone así... żEsto
funcionara? żPodemos atrapar a bastantes de ellos para tener algún efecto? Me
quito las palabras de la boca dijo Warringer. Después de que los ahígamos
interrogado, y sacado toda la información que podamos de ellos, lo hacemos, a
espaldas de la población. Ellos no dirán mucho pero el mundo puede que si. Me
gusta esto. El General era entusiasta. Esto debe ser difícil de hacer. żQué
podemos perder? "
Hay un detalle, dijo Warringer. Hay una tradición antigua de esta gente. Hace
ańos ellos solían entregar a los cautivos enemigos a las mujeres quienes les
quitaban ciertas partes corporales y las ponían en las bocas de los
prisioneros. Creemos estas mujeres hoy en día felizmente seguirían la
tradición, quizás de un modo más humano. Esto evitaría cualquier publicidad
negativa. żEl Consejero de Ética no estaba de todo segura pero seguramente en
un asunto de testículos contra vidas no había ninguna duda de quien ganaba?
Ella no encontrar ningún defecto en esa lógica, pero pensó que tal vez debia
decir algo peno no lo hizo.
Fatima Wallala era una viuda de 23 ańos con dos nińos que alimentar. Su
marido, un buen hombre y buen padre se dirigía a su negocio cuando un coche
bomba exploto a 3 mts de él. Despiadadamente él no murió inmediatamente. Él
tardó doce días en morir, paralizado y en gran dolor. Fatima había rezado por
piedad divina para él. Ella estaba agradecida del entrenamiento y profesión de
enfermero y de este nuevo trabajo en la clínica local. No tenia nada que ver
con los soldados extranjeros quien ahora gobernaban su país. La clínica era la
iniciativa de un benefactor rico local. Era parte de unas viejas instalaciones
militares acondicionadas para la empresa. Estaba firmemente construida y
aunque no completamente conveniente al menos era muy espaciosa.
La clínica compartió el edificio con una comisaría. Fatima reconoció al preso
quien la policía recién introducida al local. Él había sido un soldado en el
antiguo régimen, un oficial. Ella claramente recordó el día en que habían
venido a su casa y habían detenido a su padre. Este hombre había sido el líder
del grupo de soldados. Él había sido el que había violado a su madre cuando
ella había intentado dejaran de golpear a su padre. Ellos se llevaron a su
padre y nunca lo habían vuelto a ver otra vez. żY ahora esperarían a la
enfermera este hombre? Ella se preguntó que se equivocó con él. Él se veía
bastante sano cuando lo conducían a una de las viejas celdas que este edificio
tenía en abundancia. żFatima, usted reconoció a aquel preso? Sí, Doctor.
żUsted no tiene ninguna razón para amarlo, entiendo? Fatima era agradecida de
verlo. Ella se contuvo para que el doctor no viera las lágrimas que brotaban
de sus ojos. Eran lágrimas en memoria de su padre, su marido y por todo el
sufrimiento que aquel hombre le había infligido. No doctor. No tengo ninguna
razón para que me agrade Mohammed Yakob. "
Mohammed Yakob sabía que su tiempo sobre la tierra estaba por llegar a su
final. Lo habían atado con correas fuertemente a una mesa. Él era incapaz de
moverse Él llevaba solamente una bata de hospital, la clase de las que los
pacientes usan para llevarlos a la cirugía. Él sabía que él había sido
traicionado, vendido por algún traidor, se puede pudrir en el infierno, a los
infieles quien habían conquistado su querida tierra. Esto era la voluntad de
Dios lo que él se dijo. Él afrontaría lo qué viniera apegado a su fe y
sabiendo que él siempre había hecho su deber lo mejor posible. Él había
servido bien, diligentemente siempre hacía el trabajo sucio por sus superiores
y hasta después de la invasión de los extranjeros ateos él había estado activo
en la resistencia, sirviendo a sus superiores hasta el final. Él había matado
tantos infieles como él había sido capaz. Ahora él era su preso. Él no esperó
ninguna piedad pero él. Él soportaria cualquier dolor el que ellos le
infligieron. Y él no traicionaría a sus compańeros, desafiaría como un héroe,
a todos ellos. Yakob no tenía miedo de morir. żLos clérigo le habían dicho de
los placeres que le esperaban al fiel en el paraíso? żMujeres hermosas para
asistir cada una de sus necesidades y caprichos? Dios era misericordioso, Dios
era grande. Yakob tenía ganas de ver el paraíso. żCuándo comenzarían? żQué
esperaban? La puerta se abrió. Una mujer, velada de pies a cabeza en una burqa
como el de las mujeres afganas, entro. żUna enfermera? Ella levantó la bata
que llevaba Yakob y lo dobló hacia atrás hasta donde la correa sobre su
cintura lo permitía. żMujer, qué haces? La mujer no dijo nada solo puso un
dedo en sus labios para callarlo él vio que ella llevaba guantes quirúrgicos.
Ella se puso a afeitar su área pubica. żQué manera de tortura es esta? Si esto
era la tortura podría para siempre. La enfermera paso un dedo ligeramente
sobre el área afeitada para comprobar su suavidad. Ella dio medio vuelta.
Yakob no había notado el carro que contenía instrumentos quirúrgicos. Él no
podía verlo correctamente porque él no podía levantar su cabeza. La enfermera
tomó un pedazo largo de plástico delgado y se lo mostró. Él cabeceó. żY qué?
Ella tomó suavemente pero firme su pene erguido e insertó la barra plástica en
la uretra. Él sintió una sensación como a quemado cuando ella lo empujó hacia
adentro. Eso era doloroso peno no mucho. Él podía soportarlo bastante bien.
Ella dio a su pene unos pequeńos golpes que lo ayudaron. Del carro ella tomó
una ampolleta de cristal, y se lo mostró. Él lo reconoció como un anestésico.
Ella lo abrió y se puso a llenar una jeringuilla con su contenido. Esto era
una jeringuilla del tipo que el invasor usaba. Otra vez ella se lo mostró.
Entonces ella se acercó y puso la jeringuilla sobre su cara para asegurarse
que él pudo verla. Desde luego él podía verla. Algunas gotas del anestésico
salpicaron en su cara. Cuidado, mujer.
Un poco entró en sus ojos y en parte lo cegó. Unos entraron en su boca y su
lengua se entumeció. żPor qué ella goteaba eso en su cara? żSeguramente esta
debería ser inyectada? Él no podía ver que pasó después. Ella le hacía algo en
sus genitales. Él podía sentirlo. Otra vez esta adolorido, pero no más allá de
lo que él podía soportar. Él descubrió un olor a quemado. Los bastardos
intentaban alguna clase estúpida de tortura psicológica sobre él. Déjeles
intentar. Él no les diría nada.
Como un relámpago el dolor subió por su abdomen sus huevos se convulsionaban
en agonía, incapaz de pensar en nada más que en el dolor. Esto era más de lo
que él podía soportar. Él benévolo desmayo lo invadio. żCuánto largo este fue?
ˇCaray! el dolor fue demasiado. El dudaba que él pudiera sobrevivir a otra
sacudida así. Pero ya ahora ya había pasado. Él solamente sentía un dolorcito
allí. Ahí estaba aquella enfermera otra vez. żQué usted me hizo mujer? Esto.
Otra dolorosa agonía lo invadio. Otra vez se desmayo. No paso mucho tiempo. Él
recuperó el conocimiento sacudiéndose y temblando. Uno más de aquellos lo
mataría. No más. żQué quiere saber? Todo lo que usted tenga que decirnos.
Hable.
Yakob habló. Él dijo todo. Por una neblina gris ser podría ver que la
enfermera estaba de pie cerca del área de dolor. Él pensó que ella lo miraba
pero él no podía estar seguro. Él solamente no quería otro de aquellos
dolores. Él habló y siguió hablando. Su garganta estaba seca. Su voz se torno
ronca. Él continuo hablando. Algo para evitar más de aquel dolor. Cuando él no
podía pensar en algo fresco que decir que él repitía. Él sabía que solamente
tenia que seguir hablando..
El soldado de vigilancia estaba muy despierto aquella noche. Había una junta
especial de su guardia en las colinas. Los líderes se encontraban, planeando
la carnicería que expulsaría a los infieles de su tierra y les permitiría
recuperar el poder. Como él ańoraba aquel día. Él oyó los camiones aproximarse
antes de que él los viera. Él alertó a su comandante quien le dijo lo
mantuviera informado. żCuántos estaban allí? Él miró el acercamiento. Él vio
un camión con dos portadores de personal armados como escolta. El pequeńo
convoy se quedó en el camino debajo de él. Él se comunico y observó. Dos
soldados salieron de atrás del camión y él vio a otro hombre, desnudo, ser
bajado del camión. Él se movía despacio y con cuidado como si tuviera algún
dolor. Los soldados miraron al hombre alejarse de ellos. Entonces ellos
brincaron de nuevo atrás del camión. El convoy dio vuelta y volvió por dónde
vino. El centinela hizo un informe. Él se quedó en su puesto y observó como un
grupo de hombres fue a traer al hombre quien se había quedado dormido en el
camino. Esto habría hecho poca diferencia el centinela observo los misiles
aproximarse. E impactar el puesto en la cima de colina y destruirla. No hubo
tiempo para reaccionar.
El centinela sobrevivió al bombardeo y se hacerco a los hombres que fueron a
recoger Yakob. Aunque eran soldados de infantería comunes ellos no eran
cobardes. Ni bromeaban. Ellos vieron lo que le había hecho a Yakob. Morir para
su causa era una cosa, ser reducido a u remero de hombre como Yakob era otra.
Un dios misericordioso los había escogido para que sobrevivieran y ellos
estaba agradecidos. Ellos encontraron ropa ordinaria, tiraron sus armas y
fueron a casa.
La idea de Warringer resuelto aún mejor de lo que pensaron, dijo el presidente
con alguna satisfacción. Tan le complacieron él había olvidado su ansia de
nicotina, aunque temporalmente. Una conclusión muy satisfactoria, estuvo de
acuerdo el General. Nuestra gente esta todo a casa. Y tenemos un gobierno
democráticamente elegido instalado.
"Ahora es hasta ellos, dijo el Consejero de Ética. ż"Piense que ellos lo
harán? El presidente resopló. żCon sus réditos del petrolio? Ellos no pueden
fallar. "
La Directora del Instituto estudió al profesor recién designado que se sienta
del otro lado de su escritorio. Sus rezos habían sido contestados.
Bienvenido al personal, Sr. Yakob. Normalmente nosotros nunca consideraríamos
a un hombre para la posición de profesor de matemáticas en una escuela de
seńoritas. Sin embargo nadie puede objetarnos teniendo a un totalmente eunuco.
Pienso que es bastante agradable tenerlo aquí. Tradiciones viejas. Estoy
seguro que las muchachas lo apreciarán. "
Yakob se obligó a una risa. Había quinientas muchachas en esta escuela, todos
ellas vírgenes, sin duda y, ˇay! por lo que él estaba preocupado, vírgenes
ellas permanecerían así. Esto le ocurrió que a veces Dios muestra su piedad de
los modos que no son fáciles de entender.
* * * |
Angry wives club - From Russell with love | TESTICLES | After a visit to the consultant, Russell decides that there is only one way to balance the sexual needs of himself and his wife Pamela. | Angry wives club - From Russell with love.
I recall it was on a sombre blustery afternoon in November that we
returned from visiting the last of a wearisome series of
consultants. We were both dog-tired. As I turned into our driveway
the car crunched on a welcoming carpet of dry russet leaves that
led right up to the metal up-and-over garage door.
Such was autumn.- I love it's earthy smell. That hint of chill
in the air, the morning mist, and even the ever-earlier encroaching
darkness. I've always delighted in the diversity of the seasons, I
have no favourite. Though some think of autumn as a transitory
season, I see it as distinct from its summer predecessor and its
wintry successor, as day is to night.
The car engine fell silent and the only remaining sound was the
wind hissing through the surrounding towering chestnut trees. They
were stark against a truculent sky, their branches waving to no one
in particular.
Wordlessly, Pamela swung herself out of the front seat and stepped
onto the driveway. She pulled her sheepskin coat about her and her
pale face looked spectral in the fading light. By the time I
caught up with her at the house, she'd keyed open the front door,
and warm central heated air rushed out to greet us.
"I'll put the kettle on." She said, slipping off her coat and
carefully hanging it on the black oak coat stand just inside the
door. I watched her retreating back, wanting to take her in my
arms, tell her it did not matter, that nothing had changed. But
she would have resented the lie.
"Tea for me." I called out to her over the rattle of the electric
kettle being thrust underneath the tap. The house waited in hushed
anticipation. Entering the large lounge I made for the TV to catch
the news, then changed my mind and slumped into the nearest
armchair. It was already gloomy enough to justify lights but I
wanted to prolong the illusion of day. Pamela came through the
door, her face pinched, rubbing her hands - trying to the remove
the damned spot, I thought - and smiled at my mental reference to
Shakespeare.
"I'm glad you think it amusing." She said tartly.
"I was thinking of something else." I replied, slightly hurt.
"Easy for you to do."
"What?"
"Think of something else. I've thought of nothing else."
I paused. "There are other doctors. Other possibilities." I said
at last.
"Surgery you mean?"
"Not necessarily."
"Well what then?" She sat down and stared at the unlit gas fire,
as if attempting to light it by power of thought.
"Lovemaking doesn't necessarily mean intercourse, there is also…"
I started, but she cut me short.
"Oh?" She raised her eyes to the ceiling. "You mean oral sex? I
don't think I….."
"I was going to say affection, just holding each other…." I began.
"Russell," she interrupted again, continuing patiently, "you heard
the consultant, intercourse in my condition is unwise, always will
be. She looked about her in despair. "I've always known there was
a problem, you know that. Ever since Stephanie. It's just got
worse that's all." Her eyes watered and the usual violet tint
looked black in the half-light. I longed to go over, put my arms
about her and kiss the tears away, but we had to talk this through,
get it over with.
She looked down at her hands. "And it's not going to get any
better."
"I know." I said gently.
"But you see Russ the worst of it is, it doesn't really matter to
me. Sex isn't a big issue for me. It's you I'm thinking of. And
the effect on us."
"Yes, I understand that." Which was true. There had been a
paucity of lovemaking in our two years of marriage. But I'd
endured that after the insatiable appetite of my first wife - which
I'd ultimately been unable to satisfy.
"You won't be able to exist without some physical relationship."
She said bitterly. "Men can't. I ought to know." I assumed she
was referring to her first husband.
"That's not true." I retorted, fingers crossed. She was a very
attractive woman and it wouldn't be easy. In fact it hadn't been
easy, quite the opposite. Even now with her face drawn, lines of
fatigue crowfooting the corners of her eyes, she was lovely. She
had the fragility of a porcelain china doll with smooth skin like
tissue stretched tightly over her delicate features. She'd gone
grey early but had not hidden the fact, preferring instead to wear
her hair as a silver frame to her face. Her smile was sunshine.
"Don't be silly Russ. Don't just say things for my sake."
"It's you I want. Not just your body." I exclaimed, rather
pompously.
"Russell!" She tried to admonish me, but her lips betrayed her
with the start of a smile.
"Sorry."
Her smile ebbed. "I feel as though I've been castrated." She said
staring into space. "Now I know what it must feel like for you poor
men."
I swallowed at the opening she'd given me. If I was to broach the
subject at all, now was the ideal moment. "Pamela." I started.
"I was talking to Daphne last week. Do you remember? Daphne
Winterson, the accountant?"
"Daphne? Oh. Hmmm. Quite a striking woman". Her voice adopted a
note of disapproval. "Certainly knows her own mind that one." She
played with her wedding ring.
"She suggested something. I've been thinking about it since."
"I didn't know she was a gynaecologist as well?" Pamela snapped
coldly.
"She isn't."
"Then it's none of her business."
"We weren't talking about you." I said a little testily.
"Oh?"
"It's me. This new Act. The freedom of personal surgery.
What if…" I hesitated, trying to choose my words with care. "What
if I had the surgery. If I were…" I swallowed hard. "Well, what I
mean is, if I were to be emasculated?"
She looked at me questioningly. "What?"
She wasn't intentionally making this difficult, but that was the
effect.
"You know - like you said, castrated?" There, it was
out.
Pamela's eyes widened. "Castrated?" She searched my face for
signs it was some sort of joke. "You?"
"Yes.'
"You can't be serious?"
"Perfectly."
"Don't be ridiculous." She leaned forward, seeking something to
occupy herself with, and reached for the gas fire. There was a
click as the electric switch fired, a slight hump, and infant
flames gently started to play around the imitation coals. They
glowed,yellow and orange. Against the darkening background her face
acquired a sort of reverent silhouette that is reminiscent of old
renaissance paintings.
"What's so ridiculous about it?" I argued. "You said yourself
that's how you felt, virtually castrated. Sex irrelevant. And
there are distinct pluses, on average, castrated males live
longer." I said, adding thoughtfully, "I suppose it's the relief
from all that sexual tension?"
"What about other side effects?" She spluttered, straining to
think of some. "Osteoporosis for example?"
"Oh, I'd need tests first, and we'd have to monitor the situation.
But on balance, it's a gain."
"You've really thought this out?" She said, soft surprise in her
voice.
I left my chair and knelt before her, placing my hand over hers.
"Yes. Carefully. Today just confirmed it as a worthwhile option."
"Well, I think you're talking nonsense." But her words lacked the
conviction of a few moments ago.
"At least, think about it. Castration isn't the taboo it was a few
years ago."
"It's horrible."
"It's an option." I pressed.
"What if we were to… I mean, what if anything happened to me?" She
bit her lip.
"Firstly, that's not likely. On average, women outlive men.
Secondly, if I remarry it's not likely that sex will be top of the
agenda. I'm hardly in a position to run off with a dolly bird. In
fact, as a eunuch I could be quite an attractive prospect to some
women!"
"Eunuch." She shivered. "It's an awful word."
"That's the connotations." I said. "Don't worry, I wouldn't
suddenly start speaking soprano, or go bald. In fact, castration
is supposed to reduce the possibility of hair loss. And it's a
blessing as far as the old prostate goes."
"Bit drastic though isn't it?" She said, shaking her head. "What
about drugs?"
"Expensive, tedious and anyway, you can only get them on
prescription. And what about when I'm away? Would you trust me to
take them then? No, I don't want to be chained to tablets or
whatever, for the rest of my life." I'd already mentally argued
the case with myself thoroughly. "This is a sign of commitment." I
finished.
"You'd really do that, for me?"
"No." I said firmly. "For us. You and me."
As Pamela opened her mouth to speak, the door clattered open and we
quickly drew apart. I stood up awkwardly. Pamela's twenty-one year
old daughter burst into the room.
"Oh." She said stopping in surprise. "What are you two doing in the
dark?"
"It's not really dark yet." Pamela said, slightly irritable at the
untimely interruption.
Stephanie groped for the wall-lights switch and a mellow tawny
radiance filled the room. "Well, I think it's dark." She shrugged
off her bright red fleece jacket onto the sofa and perched herself
on the arm. Her long black hair flopped around her neck and she
repeatedly tossed it back, just as she'd seen the catwalk models do.
Her skirt was a little too short for fashion but she had a trim
figure with good legs and that deterred sartorial criticism,
especially from men. She wore a small diamond stud on the side of
her nose. She looked from one to the other of us, suddenly aware
that she'd arrived at an inopportune time. Apprehension clouded her
face. "You've been to the consultant?" She guessed.
"Yes." Pamela replied.
"And?" The question was not impertinent as they shared most
secrets. They had been living almost as sisters for nearly five
years.
"It's not good." Pamela said quietly.
Stephanie's colour drained but Pamela immediately went on. "Oh,
nothing like that. Just that I have to be careful that's all, with…
well, you know.."
"Oh." Stephanie said in hesitant relief, looking from her to me.
"We were just discussing the implications." I added.
"Ah." Stephanie looked down, unsure where to take the conversation.
I decided to take the bull by the horns, cleared my throat and said
abruptly. "I've decided the solution lies with me."
"How's that?" Stephanie asked suspiciously.
"It's a matter of balancing our relationship."
"In what way?"
"Putting our physical needs on the same plane." I struggled.
"I'm sorry, is this some sort of guessing game?" She folded her
arms.
I felt a tightening in my chest and breathing became hurried. "I've
decided to be castrated." I revealed at last, tired of euphemisms.
Stephanie blinked.
"Russell!" Pamela exclaimed.
I looked quickly at Pamela and, taking her hand, continued. "I
mean, we've, that is your mother and I, have decided that
castration for me is the most appropriate step forward." Damn, I'd
sounded pompous again.
"You're kidding right?" She said with a humourless smile, her gaze
repeatedly flicking from me to Pamela and back, in bewilderment.
"No." Pamela said. "I'm afraid he's not. I'm still trying to get
used to the idea, and Russell is not quite correct. At the moment
it's only one option." Her brow furrowed. "But well, I suppose it's
not out of the question."
"It's not as drastic as some people think." I said encouragingly.
"I'm told it's becoming almost fashionable with men of my age."
Stephanie's eyebrows remained glued in the up position.
"You disapprove obviously?" Pamela concluded, with what sounded
like some disappointment.
Stephanie jumped up and walked around the room. "Disapprove? It's
not for me to approve or disapprove, it's your decision. But if you
want to know…. then actually, no. I don't disapprove. One of the
guys in the office was done. We all teased him at first but heck,
he seems happy enough with it and quite honestly you can't tell.
Naturally, I suppose if a girl were to sleep with him then…" She
broke off, aware that she was being flippant. "Sorry. I didn't mean
to be…" She said.
"That's ok." I quickly intervened. "In fact, you're right.
Superficially, you can't tell." I chuckled. "Though I may have to
cut down on the pop a bit."
At my reference to the amount of wine I drank Pamela nodded curtly.
"And that will save us a few bob." She said pointedly.
We all smiled and the tension eased by a few notches.
I interpreted Pamela's remark as a form of concurrence, which seemed
to settle the matter, at least for the present. I couldn't see any
reason to prolong the debate so I released her hand and went over to
the phone. "The Act depicts that we have three months thinking time
in case we change our minds. We might as well use that period for
what it is intended. In the meantime I'll book an appointment." I
said as I punched in the memorised digits that Daphne had given me.
She answered almost immediately. "Daphne?" I asked, my chest
tightening. "It's Russell, we met last week." There was a pause.
"About er, what we talked about, I've discussed it with Pamela and
I'd like to go ahead." Congratulations emitted from the other end,
and Daphne carefully outlined the next steps. "No problem." I
concluded. "I'll bring them with me when you do the preliminary
tests." After a few pleasantries I replaced the receiver, and turned
to the two women. "Daphne will arrange a tentative reservation at
the clinic, for about three months time. As soon as I return the
initial consent forms. She sees no reason to think the tests would
provide a problem."
Pamela and Stephanie exchanged glances.
Pamela stood up and said she'd make us that drink, while Stephanie
just shook her head in amazement. "Wow, you'd do that for mom?"
"From Russell with love," I said, in exaggerated seriousness.
From that moment the time flashed by. Pamela gained enthusiasm as
she avidly read everything to hand on the subject. We scoured the
Internet - on which we found an archive location where advice poured
out.
Stephanie became a mischievous minx. Whereas I confess I had told
her it was to be no secret, she did delight in specifically
mentioning to visiting friends that I was soon to be doctored as a
love pact with her mother. Their reactions were varied and,
invariably provided Stephanie with much amusement. One or two of
her boyfriends tiptoed around Pamela as though she was some sort of
man hating castratrix.
The girl friends generally thought it a wonderful gesture. There's
no doubt that my decision enhanced my relationship with Stephanie.
Maybe without the sexual imperative I was no longer seen as an
advantaged competitor for her mother's affections.
I never did meet Daphne again in person but the clinic was efficient
and Doctor Wallace was kindness herself. Like an uncomplicated
pregnancy, I was out within forty-eight hours sans testicles.
A week or so later, Pamela organised a small gathering of friends
for a dinner party in my honour. They had obviously been carefully
chosen as there were only two other men present, one like me had
been castrated, the other scheduled. The women were enthusiastic
about the whole process and saw it as a great leap forward for the
relationship between the sexes.
On that score, I remained strictly neutral. Or should I say,
neutered.
End |
The Room II | GAY, TESTICLES, MINOR | Although this story is virtually complete by itself, there is imformation contained in The Room that sets the table. Luke, the first boy that Jason abducted, died, so Jason has returned to the park to find another. Some of you will be relieved by the lack of graphic sex with a minor in this episode, and some...\"The Room\" could be taken as being complete, without this part. I like this conclusion. | ` In "The Room," the first boy that Jason abducted, Luke, died. After mourning
Luke for a while, Jason has returned to the park, in a city in another state,
where he abducted Luke, returning to the creek where little boys catch
crawdads. `
The Room II
I arrived back at the city, bought another car from a private party, giving a
false name and address. This time I disguised myself as a homeless person
pushing a grocery cart around the park collecting pop cans. It was a perfect
disguise. People usually looked the other way, pretending I wasn’t there. I
spent several days watching boys down by the creek, but either there were too
many people around, or the kid wasn’t really what I wanted, didn’t grab my
attention, or my heart. Then one day I pushed the cart down to the creek. I
always had some empty pop cans in it, some garbage bags, and the tranquilizer
gun wrapped in a garbage bag. He was there!
The trees formed a green canopy over the brook, through which sunlight rained,
dancing on his face as a gentle breeze stirred the leaves. His laughter, as he
splashed though the water chasing his prey, tinkled, like wind chimes in the
wind, in tune with the music of the brook. The sun, reflecting from his eyes
struck me like a dart both in my brain and my heart, driving the breath from
my body and all reason from my brain. I had to have; I must have this boy! If
a hundred people had been nearby, I would have taken him anyway.
My hands shook as I lifted the barrel of the tranquilizer gun. Although the
day was cool, sweat, beading on my brow, dripped into my eyes. I had to lower
the gun to wipe the sweat from my eyes, then raised it again, took a deep
breath, let it half out, and fired the dart. It struck his right thigh,
sticking there, emptying the hypodermic into his leg. He jumped at the impact
of the dart, stared at it jutting from his leg, reached down, pulled it out to
bring it up level with his eyes, then crumpled, his legs in the stream, his
back and head resting on the bank. The dart dropped into the water. I knew I
shouldn’t leave it behind, but all my thoughts were of him. Dropping the gun,
I ran to him, gathered him up in my arms and carried him to where I had hidden
the cart. I stuffed him in a garbage bag, placed him in the cart, and poured
some empty pop cans on top. I retrieved the gun, placing it in another bag and
also in the cart. I walked a ways down the stream looking for the dart, but
couldn’t bear to leave him alone for long. I didn’t find it, but didn’t think
that anyone else would either.
The cart, heavier now, left ruts in the soft earth. I wheeled it back to where
I left the car, and, after making certain no one was around, placed him and
the gun in the trunk I couldn’t resist peeling back the bag to look at his
face. Under the influence of the drug he was snoring softly, but his pulse was
strong. I brushed the hair from his forehead, leaned over and kissed him.
Reluctantly I stood up, looked at him longingly, and closed the trunk. I left
the cart next to the trash dumpster. It took all my will to keep from speeding
on my way back to the motor home.
I took him inside, pulled back the covers, and laid him on the bed. Pulling
off his jeans confirmed my suspicions. He was pre-pubescent. It didn’t matter.
As I watched him lying there, “I was charmed with a charm that carries with it
a sense of irreparable loss, tingling with that feeling which begins like a
caress and ends in a blow, in that sudden hurt of a new emotion making its way
into a human heart, with the brusque stirring of sleeping sensations awakening
suddenly to the rush of new hopes, new fears, new desires-and to the flight of
one’s old self”-I had irreparably changed. Sex was no longer part of the
equation, no longer important.
I drew in his beauty “with a long breath, the last long breath of a soldier
before the rush of battle, of a lover before he takes in his arms his beloved;
the breath that gives courage to confront the menace of death or the storm of
passion. He appeared to me with the impalpable distinctness of a dream. The
world suddenly appeared to me like an apparition behind a transparent veil-a
veil woven of light and shadows.” Time stood still. When I moved my hand to
caress his face, it flowed toward his face, like water being poured into a
glass. “You’re beautiful,” I whispered.
I didn’t remember starting the motor home, driving away, or whether I took my
usual precautions to make sure I left no clues behind. By the time I was again
self-aware, or had a conscious thought, I was over a hundred miles from the
city.
When I arrived home, I walked back to where he lay, tenderly picked him up,
and carried him outside. How changed everything seemed! The sky was higher,
the diamond like sparkle of the morning sun on the dew flooded my senses. I
walked through my house, as in a dream, to the secret room I had constructed.
I took off the rest of his clothes, laid him naked on the bed, and stood there
drinking in the sight of him, thirsting for the sight of him, as if I were
dying of thirst for the sight of him.
I wanted him to always be as he was now, to be the beautiful child that I saw
playing in the waters of the creek, to always be able to hear the wind chimes
of his laugh. I knew that I couldn’t stop time altogether, but I knew how to
stop many of the changes. I had done it before with Luke, and, whereas Luke
had already begun changing into a man, this boy hadn’t. When I was through, he
would always keep his beauty, the wind chimes of his laugh.
While he was still unconscious from the drug, I prepared. I strapped him down,
his legs spread apart. Since his scrotum was so small, I split it from top to
bottom. His marble like testicles dropped free of their bag to hang suspended
by their cords. With my gloved hand, I grasped one, pulled it, stretching the
cords. I clamped the cords, sutured above the clamp, and with my surgical
scissors, snipped the cords. The marble rolled onto my palm. When I released
the clamp, the cords retracted, out of sight, back into his body. The other
testicle seemed, somehow, lonely, hanging there without its mate. I turned my
attention to it. It soon joined its partner in the surgical dish beside him on
the bed. I removed his scrotum altogether leaving just enough skin to stitch
it together. He was smooth both above and below his small, precious, little
penis, and he would always be so. I had saved him from the ravages of
testosterone. He would never have to shave, have prostate problems, or lose
his hair.
His name was Kyle. I didn’t use the Room to train him as I had Luke. I
couldn’t stand to not be able to touch him. Being away from him would have
punished me more than him, me more than I could bear. I told him that there
had been a terrorist attack, that a new biological agent had been released,
that his parents were dead, that most people were dead, that we were only
alive because we had the Room, that, to stay alive, he had to remain in the
Room, that the attack had caused the loss of his testicles.
It took a while to convince him, but I can be convincing. I showed him that
there were no stations on the TV, that we could only play tapes and DVD’s. I
slept with him on the bed, comforting him when he cried. I had no sex with
him. Oh, I sometimes masturbated in the control room while I watched him, but
our relationship was beyond sex. When he got older, we might have had sex. It
was, after all, my responsibility to teach him about life, to show him the
pleasures that sex could have brought him. I never got the chance to find out,
though.
Kyle had only been with me about two weeks when they found us. I answered the
door to find my yard full of police armed with a search warrant. Because I was
so mesmerized by Kyle when I took him, I made too many mistakes. The tracks
made by the cart had led them to where I loaded him into the trunk of the car.
They took impressions of the tire tracks of the car, matching them to the car
when they found it. The tranquilizer gun was still in the trunk of the car.
After carrying Kyle into the motor home, I had never given it another thought.
My fingerprints were on the gun, on file, and they had the dart from the
creek.
Although a normal search would have never found the Room, they tore the house
apart until they did. It broke my heart to see the look that Kyle gave me when
he found that everything I had told him was a lie. Then they found the clothes
that Luke had been wearing when I took him. I couldn’t bring my self to throw
them away. They already suspected me because Luke had been taken from the same
park.
Eventually I showed them where Luke was buried. Nothing mattered anymore,
anyway. I had lost Kyle, and any chance for his love. The press called me a
monster. They found me guilty of murder of a child, with added circumstances,
which got me the death penalty. Although I’m guilty of nothing but loving Luke
and Kyle, I’ve waived all appeals. At least, I’ll soon be at peace.
Author’s comments:
I must give credit to Joseph Conrad for his influence on the style I used, and
for some plagiarism of him. Those parts used are enclosed in quotes, although
the content has been changed somewhat. I couldn’t come up with anything on my
own that I liked so well.
Slammr
* * * |
Prison stoy | GAY, TESTICLES | This is a story about a prisoner's experience behind bars and beyond. | At 18, I was sentenced to 5-10 years after my 3rd DUI that resulted in a non-
fatal accident. I didn't know how the prison system works, but now sure wish I
did before I got there. A young inmate who looked about my age came up to the
Admission and Orientation unit and handed me two packs of cigarettes. He
didn’t say anything, so I didn't know where they came from or why they were
given to me, but I took the cigarettes. Two weeks later I was placed in
general population, and this inmate named Mac came to the cell he and I were
to share because the prison was overcrowded. He told me that I belonged to him
because I had sold myself to him when I accepted the cigarettes. Behind him
was the same guy who had brought me the cigarettes. He smiled and nodded in
agreement, then walked away.
I was frozen in fear. He was way too big for me to fight. I told him nobody
had told me there were strings attached to the cigarettes and tried to reason
with him. I said I could replace the cigarettes the next week. He said if I
had three packs right now, he might accept them in place of me. But obviously
I didn’t and I think he knew that. I promised I’d get them as soon as I could,
but that didn’t do any good either. He said everybody knew what accepting
cigarettes in prison means so I’d sold myself and he owned me now whether I
liked it or not. That was the end of the conversation.
He started telling me what he expected me to do. I was to make his bunk as
well as my own, do his laundry as well as my own, and clean his half of the
cell as well as my own. I was not to speak to any other prisoner or any guard
without his permission. I was not to read or send any letters until he read
them first. And most frightening, I was to sleep in the nude, couldn’t even
wear underwear to bed. Having finished, he said abruptly “Now come with me.”
Scared shitless, I did as ordered and followed him through the cell block. He
led me through two checkpoints, telling the guards he was taking me “to see
Doc.” They let us through without hesitation. When we got to the infirmary, he
went up to a guy who clearly was “Doc.” Mac told me afterward that Doc was
serving a 25 year sentence for practicing medicine without a license; he’d
been castrating guys who wanted to have their balls cut off. Mac just told Doc
“My new puppy needs to be fixed” and ordered me to take off my clothes. I knew
there was nothing I could do so I stripped.
Doc told me to climb onto the examining table and strapped down my ankles and
knees so I couldn’t bring my thighs together to prevent what was coming. Then
he pulled out a safety razor and shaved my scrotum. When he was done, he
applied betadyne all over it. Once done, he injected a local anesthetic into
each thigh, adjacent to the scrotum.
He waited a minute or two and then pinched my scrotum on each side. Since I
didn’t react, he went to work. Using a cauterizing scalpel to minimize the
bleeding, he made just enough of an incision to push the left testicle out and
cut the cords at each end. He pushed the cords back into my scrotum and
stitched the incision closed. He repeated the procedure on the right side.
Mac and I returned to our cell 45 minutes after we arrived at the infirmary.
Before we left, Doc told Mac to bring me back to get the stitches removed “in
a week, as usual, and watch for signs of infection, as usual.” I understood
now this wasn’t the first time Mac had done this. We again weren’t stopped at
the checkpoints when we went back. I wanted to say something to a guard but
didn’t dare, and besides it was too late. They couldn’t return my testicles to
me.
It was almost lunchtime, so Mac led me to the day room so we could watch his
favorite tv show. He had me sit next to him and put his arm around my shoulder
to show everyone else he owned me. I suddenly started sobbing. Mac told me to
be quiet or he’d give me something to cry about, so I stifled the sobs and he
patted me on the head like I was an obedient puppy. When the show was over, it
was time for lunch so we went and ate. He again kept an arm around me
throughout the meal.
In this prison, there weren’t jobs for all the inmates, so Mac and I had
nothing to do but go to our cell or the dayroom. We went back to the dayroom
and watched tv the rest of the afternoon. I was going crazy just sitting and
watching tv with Mac’s arm around me, but I had no choice. And this was only
day one of up to three thousand six hundred and fifty. But that would only be
the number if I didn’t get into trouble; if I had any infractions, it’d be
more.
Finally, it was dinner time and we repeated the lunchtime routine. When we
were done eating we returned to our cell. As soon as we got there, Mac ordered
me to strip and bend over onto the bottom bunk. I understood what was coming
and knew that there was nothing I could do to stop it so I did as ordered and
got another pat on the head like a dog being trained. I realized that’s
exactly what I’d become.
Mac stayed fully clothed but pulled his hardened dick out of his pants and
pressed the head against me without any lubrication. He warned me to stay
quiet, so I buried my face into the mattress and waited. After a few seconds,
he pushed into me and grabbed hold of my hips, the entire thick 7” pushed in
with one thrust. If I hadn’t buried my face into the mattress, I would’ve
screamed bloody murder but I knew that would get me into big trouble.
It took a number of thrusts for Mac to get done, but finally he pushed in all
the way and held it there as he shot into me. He moaned in pleasure as he did.
But even though he was done, he didn’t pull out. He continued holding my hips
for some period of time, I don’t know if it was one minute or three or five,
but it seemed like eternity. I kept my face buried in the mattress.
Suddenly, I realized why he hadn’t pulled out and tried to pull away, though
there was nowhere to go. He started peeing into me, saying “Hold still, hold
still and stay quiet.” So now I understood I was to be a toilet for Mac, along
with everything else. Finally, he got done and pulled out, telling me to stay
where I was. After a time, he said to go ahead and empty myself. I got to the
toilet as quick as I could and did so.
While I was sitting on the toilet, Mac got hard again and came over to me. Now
he said “Suck it.” I’d never imagined myself giving another guy a blow job but
realized this was going to be another job I had no choice about, so I started.
I did my best, but a couple of times he slapped me because my teeth scraped
his dick. Each time that happened I adjusted and eventually the slaps stopped.
This time, he came quicker than when he raped me anally, but he made sure I
swallowed every drop he pumped into my throat. Once more he patted me on the
head before stepping back.
For two months, the routine stayed the same. I took care of Mac’s needs and
desires. I learned I could never be certain when he might want sex, but had to
be ready at the drop of a hat. I also had to do other things that violated
prison rules. Getting caught occasionally would add time to my sentence, but I
was trapped. Then, just at the 2-month anniversary of my castration Mac found
a new target, an incoming blond 18 year old in the A and O unit.
This time, he sent me with three packs of cigarettes, saying I knew what to
do. I exactly repeated what had been done to me, handing the poor unsuspecting
kid the cigarettes and quickly disappearing. When the kid arrived in
population two weeks later, Mac and I repeated the scene that he and the other
guy had performed for me and the 18-year-old’s fate was sealed.
What I didn’t know was that I still belonged to Mac. It turned out that the
guy that brought me the cigarettes when it was my turn, along with his
previous turnouts, also still belonged to Mac. Mac simply started renting him
out to other prisoners once I was in his control. The guy didn’t understand
that when Mac told me I’d sold myself; that was why he smiled as if he was off
the hook. But he was quickly pimped to other prisoners with all the money
going to Mac.
So now I was in the same boat. I was forced to take $3 for oral sex, $5 for
butt fucking, and – in a twist – Mac offered us in a “twofer” special where we
had to take it both up the butt and down the throat at the same time for
$6.50. For the rest of his prison time, Mac continued to snag unwitting young
guys that he had Doc castrate, and then continued getting money from them
after he was finished with them himself. When I was paroled, I found out Mac’s
ownership didn’t end then either.
I was released at seven and a half years, the same day as the guy that first
gave me Mac’s cigarettes. A car pulled up as we were waiting at the bus stop
to go somewhere; I don’t think either of us knew for sure where we wanted to
go, we just wanted to get away from the prison. A guy in the front passenger
seat signaled both of us to get into the back seat, which we did, I guess we
were both too used to obeying orders. They drove us to a male brothel in Las
Vegas, where we were forced to continue servicing guys as long as we were
handsome enough to keep the clients happy. It turned out that Mac had sold us
one last time, for $500 each. And he kept selling inmates he’d turned out once
they were released. When he got out at age 50, he kept his newest two catches
for himself. They became his sexual slaves for the rest of his and their lives
* * * |
Summer on Gastern Island, Part III | GAY, PENECTOMY, NULLIFICATION, MINOR | Brendan explores his new fascination with modification. Rob is heartbroken about Stephen, but after a dramatic setback receives some welcomed news. The family prepares for an unexpected visitor and an unexpected separation. | After that blast of cold air at the door, I made my way past the check-out
desk where the two ladies stood checking out books and stuff. Man, I was
excited. I’d only ever come in here once before – it was on the day after we
arrived on the Island. I was really hot and looking for a coke machine (Mom
and Dad wouldn’t let us drink coke, but I had some change and always liked
it), but those ladies had told me to leave because I was running around too
much. I was being very careful not to run now. They just couldn’t tell me to
leave this time, but lucky for me they didn’t seem to notice one naked kid
coming in quiet and disappearing into the bookshelves.
The library back home had the computer section up front where the library
ladies could watch what was going on, but here it was way in the back. Even
better, no one was there. There were eight little cubby-holes each with a
computer and printer, so nobody could peek over my shoulder while I was
looking around on the internet. I slid into the chair at the cubicle at the
very back, in the corner. The cubby had walls almost all the way to the floor,
and I’d hear somebody before they were close enough to read what I was doing.
I turned on the machine and winced a little bit when it beeped loud as it
booted up. The little guy between my legs was hard, though, so I didn’t worry
about it too long. Crap, I was so excited I couldn’t remember what Dad had
called it. Once I got to Google, I put in my search: “cut off cock.” Those
first sites were all just porno. Then I remembered the Eunuch Archive. Bam,
when I put that in, I had found what I was looking for. Lots of stories, a
message board, and even personals. So there were lots of guys into this.
Stephen wasn’t a weirdo and neither was I. Some of them were into losing their
cocks, others their balls, and some wanted to lose everything. Wow.
Then as I kept looking through the message board, I saw Stephen’s name. It had
to be the same kid – he described himself, what he wanted, and where he went
to school. There couldn’t be two blond kids named Stephen at the University of
Florida who both wanted their cocks off and went on vacation on Gastern
Island. So I kept reading. He had wanted it a long, long time. At first it
really made him sad, but I guess that’s because he wasn’t listening to what
his body was telling him.
Stephen’s parents sounded like not so nice people. They had lots of money, but
didn’t want him around. When they found out he was gay when he was about to go
off to college, they just gave him a bank account and told him never to come
back. Part of me was sad, too, sad for him, but this stuff was just too cool
for me to stay that way for long. Nothing made me sad for long, so I kept on
reading. I was clicking the mouse with one hand, so excited about what I was
reading that I didn’t even pay attention to my woody that was pressed up
against the underside of the desk. How often had I ever done that when I had a
free hand?
Turns out Stephen decided to get cut about six months ago when a friend of his
told him about a clinic here on the Island: the Gastern Reproductive Health
Clinic. His post said they specialized in all sorts of unusual sexual
operations. I’d never heard of most of them. Then I found the link directly to
the clinic. Wow, it was right here, just a mile or two away from the beach.
Their website was kind of boring, though, just lots of stuff about where the
doctors went to school and how to make an appointment, so I went back to the
archive.
It turned out that all sorts of guys liked this stuff for all sorts of
different reasons. Some guys were into pain, which didn’t do a thing for me.
Why would I want to hurt my winky? Other guys were into being slaves. That
didn’t do anything for me either. I wanted to be just who I was, not someone
else’s bitch. Other guys wanted to look smooth. Now that was hot. Still other
guys had learned about it at my age and had been wanting it ever since. They
wrote it was a fantasy at first but turned into a need over time. There were
even a couple of guys who had it done later, but talked about how much they
regretted not having it done while they were young like me.
All this stuff really got me thinking. All these guys obviously really needed
it to happen. Why did it take so long for them to listen to their bodies?
Waiting only ended up making them sad or horny, or both. I know it was making
Rob sad. I hated seeing my brother like that, and Stephen had been really
upset on the beach that night. Waiting for something you know you need just
doesn’t make any sense at all to me.
Suddenly, I got an error message: “You have been timed out of the internet.
Library computers are limited to two hour sessions, so everyone can have a
chance.” Two hours? Had I really been reading for two hours? I looked around
the corner of my cubby and saw that all the other ones were now full. I hadn’t
heard a thing and the library was teaming with people. I noticed a flash at
the corner of my vision and glanced out the window to see a strong summer rain
coming down, flashes of lightening in the distance.
It was then that I finally noticed my raging hard on again. I couldn’t walk
home anyway in this storm, so I reached down and started stroking, trying to
be real quiet so no one else could hear. It didn’t take too long because I had
been so excited for so long. When I came in my hand, I realized that I didn’t
have anywhere to put it, so I just wiped my hand off on my legs. As I did, I
noticed dark hairs starting to come in. When did that start? I started looking
around my body and found even more. Little dark hairs were in my armpits, on
my legs, on my arms, even on the tops of my feet.
I stood up with a start, feeling my butt and back, really hoping I wouldn’t
get hair there like my Dad. When I still felt smooth back there, I was happy.
Then I remembered one message on the boards about this guy who had his nuts
out, too. After they were gone, most of the dark hair on his body had slowly
gone away. There was another post where some guy who was cut at my age talked
about how he never developed hair.
I noticed the rain had stopped and knew what I had to do. I shot for the door.
“Stop running, young man. Come back here.” I just kept going, right out the
door and into the muggy afternoon heat. Remembering the map I had seen just a
few minutes before, I turned north on Broad Street and kept on running.
Her hands were tracing shapes in my thick man hair as I looked down at her
smile. We’d been married for eighteen years, and I still loved her as much as
the first day we met. In fact, I loved her and wanted her more every day.
“Lissa, you make me so happy.”
“I know, Robert,” she said, looking pensive.
“What’s wrong? You’re not still thinking about our conversation with the boys,
are you?”
“I couldn’t help thinking about it while you were inside me. I know how I feel
when I’m with you, how you must feel when you are inside me, and I so much
want that for the boys. It really scares me to think that either of them would
even think about giving up forever on the kind of intimacy that we share. It
scares me even more to think about what happened to Gary.” She was gnawing her
bottom lip.
As I bushed her long hair off her shoulders and breasts, I looked into her
eyes. “There’s nothing to worry about, Lissa. I’m sure this will just be a
passing thing. Even if that boy did have himself emasculated, I can’t see
either of our boys wanting to do it. Have you seen how often they beat off?” I
couldn’t help but chuckle at the idea. Rob had been a walking boner for five
years, and Brendan has been following suit even before he knew what Rob was
doing. Monkey see, monkey do.
“You know that didn’t matter with Gary. Once he became obsessed with the idea,
he wouldn’t let anything stand in his way. Now he’s dead because of it.” She
looked out the window, a tear forming at the corner of her eyes.
I wrapped her in my arms. “Look, Gary was a very troubled young man. He had
been suicidal before.” I pulled her face up. “It wasn’t his obsession with
penectomy that killed him; it was a society that couldn’t accept him for what
and who he wanted to be. When he woke up in the hospital and found out that
they had reattached his penis, it was his worst nightmare. If he had had
loving and supportive parents, maybe he never would have killed himself. He
would have gone to them with his problems. Maybe he still would have committed
suicide anyway, even if his self-cutting had been effective, but that’s really
not the point. Our boys are different.”
“I don’t know.”
“However this turns out, and I’m sure you are overreacting a little, our boys
won’t end up like Gary. They know we are here for them, whatever comes. They
know they have our support. Brendan is just still just a child. Anything new
and taboo is exciting to him. Rob has just been through something that could
be very traumatic. I’m really not surprised at their reactions.”
“Robert, but what if…”
“What if one of them decides it’s really what they want?” She nodded, her lips
trembling. “Then we’ll be as supportive as we can be after making completely
sure it is what they want.” She smiled but was still unconvinced.
“I think one of them came home while we were… busy. I think we better check to
see how they are doing.” She kissed my forehead gently and stood up walking to
the door. I stayed stretched out on the bed a minute as I listened to her walk
down the hall. Why did life always have to be so complicated? This summer was
just starting and was already turning out to be a rollercoaster ride.
When I heard her knocking on a door and talking, I knew someone was indeed
home, so I jumped up and went to go see. I found her standing at the door to
our one bathroom, fear and worry knitting her brow. Muffled sobbing was
emanating from under the door. “Rob, sweetie, what’s wrong. Please come out
and talk to us.”
“Go away, Mamma, I can’t, I’m not ever coming out.”
“Rob, this is your Father. Please come out here. If you talk to us, maybe we
can help. What happened? Is Stephen alright? Maybe there’s something we can do
to help the boy if he needs it. I know we can help you.”
“Listen to your Father. You have us worried sick, Rob. We love you and know
you are hurting, but we can’t help unless you come out and talk to us.”
The door opened a crack, and Lissa pushed her way in, taking Rob in both arms
and hugging him tightly. I walked in and put my arms around both of them. Rob
was more upset than I had ever seen him. He was crying uncontrollably. Lissa
was trying to quiet him, get him to calm down, but I knew he needed to let it
all out. With all this raw emotion, there was no way he was going to be able
to deal with whatever had happened.
I took his hand in mine and led him to the living room. More storm clouds had
blown up outside and large drops of rain were intermittently pelting the
windows. The three of us sat on the couch, with Rob in the middle. “What
happened, Son?” Without stopping for a second, he handed me Stephen’s letter.
As I read it, a pit opened up in my stomach. This boy needed medical attention
and fast. “Lissa, take care of the boy. I need to go to the car and get my
cell phone.”
“What’s wrong?” They both asked in unison. I had promised the family that I
was locking the cell phone in the glove box, and only brought it along for
emergencies and to check my messages once a day to make sure the patients I
had left in the care of other doctors were doing well.
“Lissa, I have to make a phone call. Just take care of the boy.”
“Dad, please, what’s wrong?”
“Rob, Stephen needs immediate medical attention. If he’s losing that much
blood, it could be very dangerous.” I handed Lissa the letter and headed for
the car with Rob close on my heels.
By now the rain was really coming down in sheets, a good old fashioned Florida
thunderstorm. As we both got in the car, I opened the glove box and pulled out
the phone, dialing 911. Rob was eerily quiet as I talked to the dispatcher and
explained who I was and what had happened. They were sending the police over
to Stephen’s beach house to try to find the boy’s trail, but it had been
nearly twenty-four hours. He could be nearly anywhere.
“Dad, do you know about the clinic he went to? Maybe they would know about
where he was going.”
“Good idea, Rob. I always knew you were the brain of the family.” I quickly
cranked up the car and waved to Lissa who was standing at the door of the
beach house. I remembered that the clinic was on Broad Street, but I didn’t
know where. As we drove, I called information and got the address. Within five
minutes we were pulling into the parking lot of the Gastern Reproductive
Health Clinic. “Now Rob, I know you are very upset so maybe you should stay
out here while I go in.”
“No, Dad. I’ll keep it under control. I’m so worried, but I really want to
help out and know what’s going on.”
“Alright. Come on, let’s go.” We walked in and up to the reception desk.
“Sir, my name is Dr. Robert Emerson, a psychiatrist. I have referred patients
here in the past, and I have reason to believe that one of your patients is in
great danger. I must talk to one of your physicians or administrators
immediately.” As the clerk ran off the fetch someone who could talk to me, I
put my arm around Rob and hugged him close. He was still trembling, but I was
impressed at how he was pulling himself together. I was so proud of him.
The clerk returned. “Dr. Gonzalez is in surgery, Dr. Price is out for the day,
Dr. Everly is doing a patient consult, and Dr. Snowdon is on the telephone.
I’ve let her know you need to talk with her, and she’ll be here as soon as she
can.” With that we took two seats in the waiting room. It had been about five
minutes when the door to the back office opened. I was sure it was going to be
Dr. Snowdon, so imagine my surprise when my son Brendan walked out talking
with an older gentleman wearing a physician’s coat.
“Brendan?” I asked incredulously. Rob was looking back and forth from me to
his brother like he was watching a tennis match. He looked more than a little
wobbly, but not quite like he was going to pass out.
“Hey, Dad, Rob. How did you guys know I was here?”
“We didn’t. We came about Stephen. Why are you here?”
“Oh, I was just talking things over with Dr. Everly. What’s wrong with
Stephen?”
I stood up. “We’ll talk about that shortly, Brendan. Dr. Everly, I’m Dr.
Robert Emerson. I referred a patient to you several years ago. I am here about
an emergency matter and was waiting to talk to Dr. Snowdon. Can we speak in
your office?”
The kindly older doctor shook my hand. “Of course, what seems to be the
trouble?”
“Brendan, wait here with your brother. Neither one of you go anywhere.” For
once, I was pleased to see that neither of them was putting up an argument.
Brendan sat down next to his brother who just looked dazed. I followed Everly
into his office and began to tell him what had happened. When I finished, he
immediately picked up the phone and sprung into action.
After two brief calls he explained, “Dr. Gonzalez performed the procedure on
Saturday. It went quite well, but the boy refused to stay overnight for
observation. He paid in cash and only left us the beach house and his
apartment in Gainesville as points of contact. We never dreamed this would
happen, but this is exactly why we require at least an overnight stay for all
of our invasive procedures other than vasectomy. Dr. Gonzalez is out of
surgery and will call the authorities in Gainesville at once.”
“Now would you care to explain what you were discussing with my underage son?
I folded my arms across my chest.
“Oh Brendan is a wonderful boy. It seems he came across our website after
reading some of Stephen’s posts on the Eunuch Archive. He came by asking
questions about half an hour ago. I saw nothing wrong with telling the boy a
bit about our services. You can rest assured that I explained to him that we
couldn’t help him with what he wanted until he’s eighteen or has his parents’
permission.”
“What he wants? I don’t understand.”
“You mean the boy hasn’t talked with you about it yet? Now that’s surprising
with all this business about Stephen. Brendan seemed to indicate that your
entire family had discussed it on at least several occasions.” He shrugged.
“In any event, your son wants a radical penectomy and bilateral orchiectomy.”
I was stunned. Brendan had always been impulsive, but by coming to the clinic
and taking things this far, the boy had demonstrated he was at least seriously
considering the procedure. “Thank you Dr. Everly. I appreciate you taking the
time to talk with me. You can rest assured I will talk about this with
Brendan. If he comes back without my permission, please notify me
immediately.” I gave the man my card, noting my cell number. From now on the
cell was staying in the house.
I continued: “In the meantime, my other son is very concerned about Stephen.
They are lovers. While I am sure you can’t give me Stephen’s contact
information without breeching confidentiality, I would appreciate it if you
would keep us posted on his general condition if and when you can find him.
When you nail down his location, I would also appreciate it if you would
forward to him my contact information and impress upon him the importance that
he contact me. If he wishes not to have contact with Stephen I understand, but
we would all appreciate knowing that he is alright.”
“Of course, of course. Thank you for your concern about the boy. Honestly,
it’s a breath of fresh air to have someone from the conventional medical
establishment taking an interest in our issues without sending us threatening
letters.”
“I know how you feel. Many of my peers have a very different view of the
services you provide, but I understand that in some circumstances they are
perfectly appropriate. Let me reiterate, however, that those circumstances
haven’t yet arisen with my son Brendan. Once we’ve had a chance to talk, I
promise I will get back to you on the matter.” With that, the kindly gent
showed me out of his office, and I slowly made my way back to the door into
the waiting room.
Before opening the door, I paused thinking how in the world to best deal with
this situation….
I couldn’t believe my eyes or my ears. Stephen and now Brendan? As my brother
sat down beside me, I couldn’t even look at him. All I wanted was to go to bed
and cry for a month. As Dad walked into the back office, I buried my face in
my hands.
Brendan put his arm around my shoulders. “Rob, what’s wrong with Stephen.” I
started crying, pushing my face against his chest.
It was a good five minutes before I could go on. “He’s gone and hurt, bad.”
“What do you mean he’s gone?”
“I went to his house to see Stephen, and his roommate gave me a letter from
him. He left the hospital early, then left town so he wouldn’t have to see me.
In the letter he said he’d been bleeding a lot and even passing out. Dad
thinks he needs a doctor as fast as possible.”
“I’m so sorry, Rob. I really do hope he’s alright, but that’s what happens
when you don’t do what your doctor tells you. Dr. Everly told me he always
makes boys stay overnight when they have surgery.”
“He told you what?”
“Yeah, when boys come in to have their cock or balls removed, he always makes
them stay overnight at least one night to make sure they are alright. When
they have everything removed, he makes them stay two or three nights. It’s
pretty serious stuff.”
“Why did he tell you all that?”
“Cause I was asking him about it. I mean, I got to learn how it all works
before I have it done.” Everything moved in slow motion. At first, these
glittering black dots started coming from everywhere at once, slipping and
sliding around the room. I tried to stand up, to shoo them away with my arms,
but then it felt like I was turning inside out, my feet and legs, hands and
arms, cock and balls, everything, trying to pull their way inside my body so
the could shoot out of my mouth. I saw shiny metal and then felt the cold
linoleum of the floor smack against my face, but I really don’t remember how I
got down there or why there was vomit all over me.
The next thing I remember was waking up in a hospital bed. Mom was sitting
next to the bed, holding my hand. Brendan was in a chair by the door reading a
Sports Illustrated. I didn’t see Dad at all. “Where’s Dad?” Then I felt the
piercing pain in my forehead and called out in pain as I reached up to feel a
cut and stitches.
“Rob! It’s okay, you just had a little fall, baby. You passed out and cut your
head on a chair. You’re in the hospital.”
“Where is Dad?”
“He’s driving to Gainesville.” She looked more worried than I had ever seen
her, even more worried that the time I swallowed that arrowhead.
“Why, what’s wrong? Did they find Stephen?”
“Rob, just settle down. Everything’s going to be alright. The police found
Stephen and the paramedics got to him in time. He was unconscious and in
shock, but they’ve given him a transfusion and he’s recovering well. They have
him in the psych ward at the university hospital. Your father has gone to see
about him.”
“Rob, I’m so sorry for making you so upset.” Brendan threw his arms around me.
I was still a little out of it. “Bren, are you still alright? I mean they
haven’t cut anything off, have they?” Brendan just laughed, but my Mom glared
at him.
“Your brother is just fine and perfectly intact. We’ve been too worried about
you to even talk about why he was at the clinic without talking to us first.”
Brendan looked a little ashamed and sat back down, returning to his magazine.
“Nonetheless, your brother really helped us out. Before going to the clinic he
had read all of Stephen’s posts on the Eunuch Archive. With that information
at his command, your Father called the hospital in Gainesville and got the
doctors to let him talk to Stephen.”
“He’s talked to Stephen?”
“Yes, and Stephen and his doctors have decided that he’s going to come home
with your Father. You need to get to feeling better so you can help take care
of him. He’s really going to need you when he gets home in a few days.”
I felt dizzy again, but this time not in a bad way. Butterfly central, that’s
what I was. “Stephen is coming home with Dad?”
“Yes, Rob, he is, but it won’t be until next weekend. In the meantime, your
Father’s going to look after him at the hospital, and you have to take all the
time you need to get well yourself. You received a little concussion when you
fell into that chair like you did. What happened?”
I glanced over at my brother who was looking right back at me. He looked like
he was about to cry, too. “All I remember was Brendan telling me why he was at
the clinic. Then I guess I passed out.”
“It sounds like you had a panic attack. The doctors here suspected as much,
and when you come home they’re going to give you some medicine to take so you
won’t have them as strongly.” Mom hugged me tight and turned to go let the
doctors know I was awake and ready for something to eat.
“Bren, are you really going to have your penis and testicles removed?” I
finally felt safe asking him since I was already in the hospital bed.
He was standing beside me again, the magazine on the floor. “I really want to,
but not if it’s going to make you sick. Do you think it will make Stephen
upset, too?”
“I think it may. In his letter he begged me not to look for him because he
didn’t want me to do to myself what he had done.”
“Oh Rob, I am so sorry I made you get hurt. Please believe me that I don’t
want to hurt Stephen either. I didn’t know it was going to make you so upset.”
“It’s just so much to handle on top of what all’s happened with Stephen. It’s
not your fault, Bren.” Tears were running down his tanned cheeks. “Please
Bren, it’s not your fault. How about just cool talking about it for a while
after Stephen gets home.” I pushed the button to raise me up in the bed and
hugged him back. “Do you mind if I ask why?”
He wiped his face and thought for a minute. “I guess I knew I wanted it as
soon as Stephen told you what he was going to have done, but yesterday before
you fell, all that reading I did at the library made me sure positive. I read
all about these guys who had wanted it done since they were my age, but none
of them had been able to make it happen. Some had it done later, but they
always regretted not doing it when they were my age. They had to go through
life being something and someone they weren’t and didn’t want to be. I don’t
want that to happen to me, so when I finished reading I went to the clinic to
find out more about it.”
“What have Mom and Dad said about it?”
“Dad didn’t have much time to talk before he left for Gainesville, and Mom has
been pretty quiet, almost like she doesn’t want to talk about it. They both
said that all four of us needed to sit down and have a family meeting when Dad
gets back. I think he’s coming home tonight to see about you before he goes
back to take care of Stephen. Now that you’re awake, maybe we can have the
meeting tonight.”
Mom walked back into my room, carrying a tray of jello, mashed potatoes, and
meatloaf. It looked dreadful, but I suddenly realized that I could eat a horse
and started digging into it without hesitation. It turned out the doctors
thought it was fine for me to go home as long as there would be someone there
to watch me for a couple of days. They had written my scripts, and we were
even able to pick them up a pharmacy downstairs on the way out. After I
finished my lunch, the doctors arrived for one final examination, and off we
went.
It was a very quiet ride home. Mom and Brendan neither said a word after we
got in the car, and both were usually talking up a storm. I wondered if they
had an argument while I was still asleep, but before I knew it we had rolled
up at the beach house. Mom immediately put me to bed and turned off the lights
in my room. She told me to take a nap until my Father got home, and that’s
exactly what I did. But before I drifted off to sleep, I couldn’t help
watching the ceiling fan spinning. This time, though, when I thought about it
slowly traveling down, I felt nothing but bliss.
“Robert, I just don’t know.” What was he thinking? The boys had never been
separated before, especially not at a time like this.
“Lissa, I really do think it’s for the best. I’m hoping this is just a passing
phase for Brendan, but if he’s determined… Well, you saw the effect it had on
Rob, and you know how it will make Stephen feel. Maybe we could handle it with
just Rob, but not with both of them. Anyway, Stephen will need time with Rob
to adjust to all that has happened to him. I don’t want to be apart from you
or Brendan any more than I have to, but you and I have both agreed that the
boy has no one else to look after him. His parents abandoned him, and Rob
really does have feelings for him, feelings that Stephen returns. They will
both heal better together.”
“But Robert….” Why wasn’t he listening to me? I think all this mess had shaken
his confidence as a parent and as a doctor. If he waited to listen to me, his
whole façade might have come crumbling down.
“And, with you and Brendan back home, we’ll be able to see if this really is a
phase. Out of sight, out of mind, you know. Boys Brendan’s age are easily
distracted. What better distraction than to be home with his friends for the
rest of the summer and away from Stephen and Rob? If it’s a phase, it will
probably be over when we all reunite. If not, we can deal with what to do next
then.”
“What if Rob and Brendan need each other?”
“Well, if that happens, then you and Brendan come back in a few weeks to spend
the rest of the summer. Really, that should be our goal anyway. It may just be
a passing obsession with Brendan. Rob and Stephen are both young, too, and
they may heal quicker than we think. We have to be prepared if they don’t,
though.”
“What about a compromise? Brendan and I will go on a little trip to give you
time to deal with Rob and Stephen. If the situation is still too raw, then
we’ll go home. That way Brendan doesn’t feel like he’s being punished for
expressing himself.” I knew I had him with that one. Confidence or no, he had
to listen to reason.
“Of course, you’re right, as usual.” He beamed at me. “Alright, let’s go wake
up Rob and tell the boys about how all of this is going to work.”
As Robert went to go get Rob, I mussed Brendan’s hair and went to the fridge
to open a bottle of wine. I usually didn’t drink any alcohol that we hadn’t
brewed ourselves, but I needed something to settle me down and didn’t feel
like asking Robert to prescribe Xanax. I could have taken one of Rob’s, but I
didn’t want to start down that road either.
When my husband and sons were all gathered in the living room, I walked in and
sat on the arm of Robert’s chair, facing the two boys. “Your Father and I want
to have a little talk with you two boys. A lot has happened in the last week,
and a lot more will be happening in the next week. Rob, your Father is
bringing Stephen home to live with us this Friday. He’s going to be staying
here with the two of you to make sure Stephen is alright and that you are
handling things, too.” Rob was too overcome with emotion to speak.
Next, I turned to Brendan. “Baby, you and I are going on a trip to Orlando. I
know you’ve wanted to go for years. Well, now we’re going to go, just you and
me.” He was grinning ear to ear. “We can spend as long as you want at each of
the parks, and we’ll book a hotel with a nice swimming pool that’s near the
water parks, too!”
“Oh Mom, you’re the greatest. I thought you might be mad with me the way
you’ve been acting since I went to the clinic, but thank you!”
Robert spoke up. “No, neither one of us is mad with you, Brendan. We’re just
concerned that you are a very young boy to be thinking about the things that
clinic does. We just want to make absolutely sure that you know what you’re
doing before any decisions are made. In the meantime, there’s nothing wrong
with a little fun!”
“Your Father’s right. We both want you to be happy always, whatever that means
to you. We can’t impose our own visions on your life, but we can and we have
to make sure that you’re ready for the steps you take. We have to make sure
you are ready to make the decisions you do while you are in our care. Like
your Father says, in the meantime, we’re going to Orlando!” He ran to me and
hugged me like he hadn’t since he was little.
“I am so excited, Mom. When are we going to leave?” Brendan was giddy.
“I need to make a few phone calls, get us some rooms reserved, and rent a car.
Other than that, the only thing holding us back is packing and taking care of
your brother for a couple of days.” Brendan took off running to the room he
shared with Rob to start packing. I yelled after him, “Remember, the theme
parks don’t let naked boys in – pack clothes to wear for at least a week!”
It was Rob’s turn to speak up. “Mom, Dad, thank you so much for letting
Stephen come live with us. I didn’t know he didn’t have anywhere to go. He
never told me that. Dad, how is he?”
“Very depressed, Rob. He regrets doing what he did and wants to make very sure
before he comes that you don’t get any ideas of trying to emulate him. How do
you feel about it all now?” Robert was very serious. He had on his Robert
Emerson, M.D., voice.
“I don’t know. It scares the hell out of me, but it also excites me. The idea
of Brendan being castrated and penectomized still makes me a little jittery.
Still, I have to admit that I find the idea sexy. I even fantasized about it
before my nap, but after seeing all that Stephen has gone through there’s
nothing father from my mind than wanting what happened to him. I just want to
be with him and take care of him, to let him know that he has at least one
person who cares about him.”
“Thank you for being honest about it, Rob.” I knew it took a lot out of my son
to talk about this with his panic attacks. I moved to his side on the couch.
“Rob, I’m sorry that I have to go. I wish I could stay here with you and your
Father, but Brendan needs some time away from all this. I hope you
understand.”
“I do understand, Mom, and I think you’re right. I think both of us need some
time to sort out our feelings about what he wants, and that’s going to be very
hard to do with Stephen here.”
“That’s right, Son,” Robert added. “Please understand that if after the trip
Brendan is still fixated on being nullified sexually, your Mother is going to
take him home for a while. We’re not trying to make him decide one way or the
other. We just want to give him the chance to think about things with a cool
head and to give you the chance to come to terms with it, too. With Stephen
here, that will be very hard. So that’s why we are doing things this way.”
“Thanks, both of you, for being honest with me, too. I will admit that I don’t
know if I will ever come to accept what Brendan wants after all of this mess,
but I promise that I will try to work through it all. In the meantime, I am
really worried about Stephen. Can I come with you, Dad, when you go back to
Gainesville?” I was never prouder of Rob than I was just then – he was
becoming a man, a man who was willing to face problems and work through them
even though he knew it would hurt. He was honest, sensitive, caring, and
strong. What more could a mother want from her son?
“No, Rob. I think it’s best if you stay here. Stephen is still at a very
fragile stage. I think he will be ready to come home Friday, but before then I
think seeing you might do more harm than good. He’s feeling a great deal of
self-loathing right now, and he still needs some time to get used to his new
self-image before he comes to live with us.” Robert was right; it could have
pushed the boy back into despair if we didn’t handle this just right.
“I understand. In that case, I will do all I can to get ready for Friday.”
“Robert, why don’t you go spend some time with Brendan and make sure he’s
packing some clothes. Rob and I will make us all some dinner. Do you feel up
to that, Rob?” I smiled at my big boy.
“Of course, Mom. Let’s get started!” As Rob and I started working in the
kitchen and Robert went to bedroom to look after Brendan, an odd sense of
normality pervaded our beach house. I really hoped Robert and I were doing the
right thing.
* * * |
A Story from the Children"s Crusade | TESTICLES, Historical | ` A Story from the Children’s Crusade `
By Xan
I know with all my heart that my Master loves me. He calls me his golden joy.
Once he said that like a spring-sprung caterpillar I left a hard life behind
to fly to him as the purest butterfly of his desires. I know it might sound
full of sap, but I love him dearly, and when he tries to find words to share
his love for me, I smile happily and listen, although sometimes it is hard not
to giggle outright. I hope if he ever reads that it doesn’t hurt his feelings.
That is the last thing I ever mean to do. I will tell honestly, had I known
from the beginning all that I would have suffered on the pilgrimage that
brought me to him, I would have had it no other way. He is the reason that I
live.
I do not want to remember how I came here, but for my Master I return once,
more to the beginning of my journey. I force myself to remember the prayers,
the tears, the mountains and the relentless seas. Before I say more I ask you
to forgive my poor penmanship, and my lack of scholarship. I am writing this
while leaning over a pillow within my own room. I do not visit here very
often, only to write this as my Master requested. This room is comfortable,
but I never sleep here. I share my Master’s bed or else a small room besides
his.
.
The wing of the palace where I sit to write all I can remember is known as the
eunuch’s quarters. I am the youngest of them and from the farthest away…
…It started on a beautiful spring day in The Year of our Lord, 1212. I was at
the market in Saint-Denis with my older brother, Phillipe who was twelve years
old. The townspeople were crowding around a shepherd-boy who was preaching at
the entrance to the abbey. We grew curious, and went over to hear what he was
saying. I learned that the boy’s name was Stephen, and he was from the tiny
village of Cloyes in Orleannais.
This remarkable boy had a letter for the King that was given to him by Jesus.
He told all of the children that we could rescue the Moslems against the
heretics of Langueda. He told the crowd that children would flood to the Holy
Land. The very seas would dry up to let us pass. With confidence he said that
all of the children would meet in Vendome in the end of June to be part of the
most successful crusade, which he called the Children’s crusade as we must all
be children for this miracle to happen.
I saw a spark of adventure light up my brother’s eyes but I never dared
believe that we would be given permission to go on this children' crusade
because we were distantly related to the royal family, and I was only seven
years old. I was surprised when my stepmother, heavy with child convinced my
father that our going would be an eternal blessing for our household. I never
thought she would be the one to stand up for us, as I always had the feeling
that she didn’t care for us very much.
When the day arrived we were given two black horses, and coinage, as well as a
list of prayers for us to say in honor of my family, once we got to the Holy
Land. We both wore our pilgrim’s outfit proudly, although I kept tripping over
my long gray coat. When we arrived in Vendome I had never seen so many
children. Stephen liked our handsome horses, and he let us ride next to his
fancy chariot. My brother was given a lance to hold, along with eleven other
boys from noble families. That first day I had never seen so much excitement
and rejoicing!
We finally arrived in Marseilles after a few misadventures. A small number of
unfortunate children, younger than I had perished in the heat, but Stephen
said they would rise directly to heaven so we were not to feel badly for them.
My brother and I stayed with a kind family in Marseilles. Others had to sleep
in the street. We had expected the sea to part as soon as we arrived there but
God must have had his reasons for keeping the sea from parting as it did for
Moses.
After a few days some turned back, but at last a miracle occurred. At least at
the time we were sure it was a miracle. Two merchants, Hugh the Iron and
William the Pig offered us ships to carry us to Palestine. We did not even
have to pay for our passage. We all rejoiced and were ready to leave almost at
once.
In the confusion I was separated from my brother and placed on the second
ship. My brother rode with Stephen on the first one. At first I cried, but an
older boy told me that this was a test of my devotion, and I must be brave. I
would meet up with my brother soon, where we would rejoice in the homeland of
our Lord. A few days out we ran into a storm. Two ships were wreaked on the
Island of San Pietro, which was off the southwest corner of Sardinia. One of
those ships carried my brother.
I wanted to drown too. I had lost all my will to live. As soon as we touched
land a Saracen squadron surrounded us and we were taken to Bougie on the
Algerian coast. We found out that our passage had been anything but free. Our
payment if we survived the sea was our freedom. We were all slaves.
First they separated the girls from us. They were led away. There were only
seventeen girls left. I know now that they all became wives or columbines in a
harem. With the rest of us we were separated by the ones who could read and do
mathematics, from those without education. I joined the group that could read,
although I had very little learning compared to my brother.
They looked at me very carefully. I suppose they didn’t believe that one who
was so small could read and write. They took me over to a separate group, and
I blushed when I realized the other boys had their clothes removed from them.
They were all very pretty or handsome boys, boys without pockmarks or
injuries. Most of them were fair like my brother and me. When they removed my
clothes I shut my eyes. I didn’t want to watch them looking at me.
We didn’t stay undressed as they gave us light robes to wear which would
protect us from the sun. I heard someone say that we were to be taken to
Alexandria in Egypt. When we were placed on ships rejoining the literate boys
I was sure that was were we were headed. A kindly looking Governor had
purchased all of those boys, and had his retainers meet them at the waterfront
of the astounding Egyptian City. These boys were told that once they could
speak the language of the Nile they would all become scribes.
The pretty boys were left behind, and I was herded into that group. One of the
older boys looked like my brother and he let me hold his hand as we were
finally taken off the ship. I forget much of our land journey. All I can tell
you is we arrived after a long ride in a caravan of camels and wagons, in a
large Arabic city, Baghdad.
We were told to pray to Allah because we would be going into harems in Islamic
homes, and we had to accept our new religion. They say that eighteen of my
group was martyred for refusing to accept Islam, but that’s not how they died.
We had been chosen for special slave markets. There were fifty of us. They
made us take off our robes, and then we were tied up. I remember having my
arms tied behind my back. Three men came along and forced me to lie down on my
back. Two of them held my legs as the third tied a string tightly around my
scrotum. They held on to me, almost clamping me as another man came over with
a sharp knife.
He picked up my sac and cut it off with one horrible swipe, as if he was just
cutting a piece of roasted lamb. Another man applied a hot iron to the wound
as I howled. Then an elderly man came by and put ointment on the seeping
wound.
I was delirious with pain, but the older boys seemed to take it much worse, as
the men went down the line, with their blades cutting one boy and then the
next. The screams were unbearable.
One boy died of shock, five bleed to death, and twelve died of infection or
fever. I survived. I learned that usually they would have been more careful
with us but there was so many to fix for the market, and we were already in
bad shape due to our long harsh journey from France.
I lay for three days not eating and barely drinking water. My pain was not as
intense as the pain in my soul. The forth day I turned around and was able to
be helped up. Instead of the glories of Jerusalem I was led to a platform
where many eyes glared at my naked body. My Master was there that day.
He said that although I was a wisp of a shadow he fell in love with my sad
little face, my golden hair, and my sky-blue eyes, that had a rainstorm ready
to fall from them. I was fortunate. My Master was always kind to me. He never
beat me, even in the beginning when I would never obey him. He also promised
that one day when I am just a little older he will take me to Bethlehem, and
we will leave an offering to my brother, together.
The End
* * * |
|
The Firing Squad. | BI, TESTICLES | This story is adult erotic fiction, and it should not be posted on forums where minors are likely to see it. It is not to be duplicated without the written consent of the author. The story is part of a series of other fictional emasculation accounts that are independent from one another, yet, are related in a perverse sort of way. The other stories are "The Chair", “Hanged by His Balls”, "Castrated by a Needle", and “Unmanned by the Guillotine.” None of them are for the squeamish.] | ` The Firing Squad.
I have to smile. It's been a while, and I love the smell of gunpowder and the
shock that a bullet can do when it's traveling at thousands of feet per
second. Yeah, I love it. It seems a good justice too, and it's fast. Very
fast. I don't think there is any way to castrate a man faster. God...I love
it...the sound, the shock on the prisoner's face, the look then as their nuts
disappear in an explosion of shattered tissue that unmans them in less than an
instant. Yeah...it’s a good justice, and I'm thankful that I'm in Oklahoma and
they still know how it's done. I love my job.
I am the senior warden at the Oklahoma State prison, and I don't question what
it is that we do. I guess being a woman some people would say I don't
understand, and that I can't really empathize with them when I take their
balls. Well, perhaps, but then I don't pull the trigger and so I don't unman
them in the true sense of the word. Oh, I'm there, and I wouldn't miss it for
anything actually. I don't really feel too much concern for them at any rate.
Instead, I do my best to remember the victim, or in this case, the victims,
and perhaps as we take the prisoner's balls in that sense we avenge the many
women that deserve to be avenged. I hate rapists, and I like making sure they
are punished. They are the worst of their kind as far as I'm concerned, and I
have no respect for them and no mercy feelings towards them at all.
Yeah, they deserve their fate. This one, like every rapist, deserves to be
nutted and as far as I'm concerned it should have been done a long time ago.
Yeah, Hanson deserves it all right, and I for one will be glad to be a part of
doing it to him. He's a strange one, and he still doesn’t get it. Hard as it
is to believe, he even claims his innocence. He's not innocent by a long shot
though, and his inability to understand what it is he did is reason enough to
take his balls. That's the way I see it anyway. I think in a very real way we
will be doing him a favor. His sac of balls have been nothing but a problem
for him since he first came into puberty, and now, at twenty-two, it is well
past time to get them off of him. Hell, he's fucked so many girls out of
wedlock he makes me sick, and as I see it castration is hardly enough
punishment for him.
His balls own his mind, and have driven him to put sex before common sense.
While he probably wouldn't agree, I really do sincerely think we are doing him
a favor, and once he's been unsexed life will get a lot simpler for him. In
the end, he may even come to appreciate it and if he thanks me for it later he
wouldn’t be the first inmate to do so. Right now, he's just a typical
oversexed guy that loves pussy so much its all he thinks about. I don't think
he can get it off of his mind. Of course, now that he's here, I'm about to
change that.
Even when I in-processed him he stared at my tits, and I saw his dick stir in
his pants as he answered my questions. Yeah, he's an oversexed man, and he
deserves what's coming. Hell, he was probably fucking as soon as he was
capable of it. One thing is for sure--he's had sexual problems since early in
puberty. His record is several inches thick. In the seventh grade he was
caught masturbating in his school utility closet, and that got him counseling.
You would think it would have helped, but instead of learning something things
only got worse. Hell, he had two girlfriends pregnant before he graduated from
high school and one of them pressed charges that almost cost him his nuts.
Almost, but a good lawyer and a sympathetic judge got him off free and clear.
Still, if the courts had known at the time what he was doing on his paper
route they probably would have taken his balls at seventeen. He was one busy
kid, and as he delivered his papers he made a game of flirting with the
married women along his route, hopping in the sac with anyone of them that
would let him. He destroyed two marriages I know of with that teenage dick of
his. He was proud of it too. In school he would laugh and brag about the women
he was mounting, but nobody believed him even when he was telling the truth.
His antics increased after high school, and college finally was his downfall.
He was a party animal, fucking every woman that would go out with him, and he
went through so many I don't think even he can remember them all. He fucked
them no matter their age, young and old. If they were old enough to have a
period and to wear a bra he was all over them. He popped the cherries of
several high school girls, even as a college man, and he would meet them at
the mall and then bring them to his dorm room. One Saturday he did six high
school seniors, one after the other, which would have been impossible for most
normal men. But his nuts recharge fast I guess, and he somehow got hard for
each of them one after the other. According to the girls' testimony, he did
them all. They were just high school girls, and only one of them was over
eighteen, but at the time none of them pressed charges either and I guess they
all got off on losing their cherry to a college man. The prosecutor found them
with an ad in the paper and a promise of money, and they certainly didn't help
his case later when he was on trial for his balls.
But his real downfall was that he liked doing the married ones too. He got a
kick out of fucking another man's woman, and thought it was funny that he
could give them something their husbands could not. The final straw was the
last one, a married woman in her forties who he claims was willing. Well, if
she was, she sure changed her mind before he was done. What can't be disputed
is he was deep into her when her high school son walked in on them. After
that, things got ugly in a hurry. Yes sir 'ree, her fourteen year old son
caught Hanson red-handed, slapping his balls up against her pussy as he pumped
his cock in and out of her like a human jackhammer. When the kid opened the
bedroom door he was just shooting his load and that's when the woman started
screaming in hysterics. Yeah, the pubescent boy was old enough to recognize a
rape when it was happening in front of him, and so after that things turned
ugly. He fought with Hanson, defending his mom's honor, and the two of them
exchanged quite a few blows before the neighbors came and help subdue him.
After that, it was pretty much over.
With the boy as a witness and her being married there wasn't a lot he could
say to justify what he had done. The DNA proved it was his semen, and it was
definitely in her pussy and of that there was little doubt. She was adamant he
had raped her, and her son backed up the story, so no matter what he said
after that it was pretty much a done deal. Anyway, with the mall girls'
testimony there was certainly enough to get him convicted of a sexual assault
in small town USA. And with his background, the jury was anything but
sympathetic.
Some think he got railroaded, and the woman had asked for it. I personally
don't buy that line. Hell, he was twenty-one at the time, and you have to ask
what he was even doing in her bedroom. He knew she was married, and he should
never have been there. Even if she wanted it initially it doesn’t make any
difference to me. He's just oversexed, and his balls are his problem. What he
needs is what we are about to do, and women everywhere will be lot safer for
it.
I look over at his cell, and Mark Hanson stares back at me. He looks angry,
and his face is flushed, although that is no doubt a partial result of the
pill he was given a little while ago. Already the 75mg of Viagra are surging
through his system, and his prick is filling with blood and will soon be
engorged and stiff and eager. The medicine wasn’t really necessary to give him
a boner, but it will insure he stays hard even if he starts to get really
scared. And a boner is necessary. A hard prick keeps his dick high in the air,
stiff, and up and out of the way, and that's important. Once we strap him into
position if it slips from its sleeve and falls down for some reason it would
be a disaster. A dick hanging in front of his balls would become part of the
target, and if that happened it would be pulverized along with everything
else. While that might be ok with me, it would probably cost me my job and in
any case I wouldn't want to have to explain how it happened. So, his dick
needs to be up and stiff and safely out of the way during his castration, even
if he does not want it to be.
As I stare at him I can tell that Hanson is scared. Still, his face is set in
anger and I know he thinks his sentence is unjust. But even as I look at him
he reaches down with his right hand to the front of his orange jumpsuit, and
moves his dick to accommodate its growing length. He is stiffening up, and
will soon be as hard as a piece of steel. Castration. By firing squad. It's a
tough sentence, but in Oklahoma that's the method and while at one time it was
pretty unusual, that's not true anymore. He's not happy about it, and he has
made it clear he feels he's being screwed. I could care less what he feels,
and no matter if he accepts his sentence or not, it is still going to happen
and that's his reality. As I look at him looking at me I find I am actually
looking forward to seeing him nutted. In fact, I can hardly wait.
One thing about him is that he has that perfect male body. Firm, lean even,
with a swimmer's build that makes him every woman's dream. His stomach is flat
the way it should be on a male, and under that prison jumpsuit I know there
are horizontal lines of muscle that accentuate his washboard abs. His hair is
a dirty blond color, but sometime not so long ago he's had it highlighted, and
there are still remnants of the little tufts of bright blond that make him
look cute as hell.
He looks a little younger than he is, with the baby-faced look and the sharp,
bright blue eyes that capture your attention and hold it there. Right now
those eyes are angry and defiant. He thinks he's being wronged. Well, yeah,
let him be the tough boy to the end. Soon enough we will be strapping him
down, into position, and I wonder then how tough he will be. Yeah, once his
legs are spread and his balls are hanging down, waiting for the bullets that
will end their existence, I wonder how he will handle it. Of course, he will
not go easily, and of that there is little doubt. He was shaved two days ago,
and it took a half dozen of my biggest guards to hold him down for the
procedure. God he fought! He fought so damn hard, but in the end it didn't
matter, and while we held him down and he grunted and yelled we shaved his
balls and took his pubic hair and I laughed while we did it. That's all part
of the procedure and he hated every minute of it. Even so, he popped a stiffy
while it was being done to him and that got a good laugh from all of us.
Perhaps that's why I enjoyed watching him be shaved so much.
As a man goes he's got a hot body, and his prick is something to see. It's
quite the hose, long and thick, and I know he's proud of it. As for his balls,
I've seen bigger, but they aren't anything for him to be ashamed of either. Of
course, they won't be his much longer, and so in that since it really doesn't
matter anymore how big they are. Without his balls, his big prick will lose
its firmness, and soon enough he'll only have a wet noodle for a cock. In
fact, looking at him and his big erection that is now tenting up his jumpsuit,
it occurs to me that he may well be enjoying his last stiffy. For some reason,
that makes me smile.
I wink at him, and he looks away. He knows, knows I will be there, watching,
watching him as the bullets take his balls. He's as smooth as a baby boy right
now, his sex hair stolen from him and now just a souvenir stuffed in a plastic
ziplock bag on my desk. I see him shift again, and his hard cock rubs the
fabric of his jumpsuit. As I watch a dime sized wet spot appears there,
indicating his dick is drooling as it grows hard. He's so horny he's dripping,
literally, even as he is about to be castrated! Who would have ever thought
that would happen? I am looking forward to getting his dick in position, and
out of that jumpsuit, so I can watch it stiff and quivering and oozing as we
get ready to unman him.
I wonder what he's feeling. Obviously, he's horny as hell. Of course, he
hasn't touched his dick in a month. I know, because I put him on observation
that long ago, and we haven’t left him alone long enough for him to do it
since then. I don't allow my prisoners to masturbate prior to nutting them,
plain and simple, as I think it does them good to be shot when they are horny
and hard and begging for one more ejaculation that will never come. Some might
think that's cruel, but I don't think so and it's my prison. There is nothing
in the law that requires me to allow them to shoot their wads when they feel
like it, so simply put I just don't allow it. If they wanted to get their
rocks off they should have behaved themselves and kept their dick in their
pants when they were supposed to. Anyway, that's the way I see it.
The capital cases get moved to the prison a month prior to their castrations,
and that's when I get them. Consequently I have them all watched closely from
the moment they get here. It’s a long month for them, and I know they long to
pull their pud and of course more than a few of them try. Too bad I say! One
good thing about watching them is that it makes certain they can't do anything
to prevent the sentence from being carried out. More than one prisoner has
tried to castrate himself to keep from having to face the public humiliation
of the firing squad. I can't allow that!
One thing that has always been true for every man I've had shot is that on the
day we nut them their dicks are always hard, and that's an important bonus. Of
course, what I like most about it is that like most men who haven’t touched
their dick in a long while, the condemned like Hanson are flooded with sexual
thoughts stirring in their brains that they can't get rid of, even as they
wait to be unmanned. I think knowing that makes it better for me, and helps to
make their punishment more appropriate. One thing to me that is especially
important, is that I have no intention of allowing any of them any
satisfaction before we unman them.
Odds are Hanson will ejaculate anyway, but there is no certainly in it.
Frankly it doesn’t matter to me one way or the other as long as he is naked
and the witnesses are watching it if he does. As long as he loses his balls,
and on time, then whatever happens as its done is of no concern to me. Still,
Hanson will probably shoot, and I know it. He's young for one thing, and his
nuts are very full of cream and without doubt by now he literally NEEDS the
release. Once his cock's in the tube he probably won't last long, although it
won't be long before he's unmanned so it's hard to say which will happen
first. Once the bullets have done their work, if he hasn't shot his wad then
he won't. That's another thing I know....his cock will shrink like a dead worm
as soon as his balls come off. That always happens, almost as if they are
connected and even the Viagra won't keep him up without his nuts attached.
Either way I guess I don't care, and hell, if he does shoot a load then he'll
shoot in front of everyone, and if he does that it will add to the spectacle
and to his humiliation. Still, I hope he doesn’t, and I'd much prefer it if he
gets unmanned with his load of semen still unspent, stored up and leaving him
frustrated beyond belief. Yeah, that's something to hope for I guess.
I look at the clock on the wall. It's about time to put things in motion, and
I feel an excitement as the time nears. I'm going to be relived when it's
done, and the witnesses have gone home and the crowds outside have dispersed.
This time Hanson's punishment has caused quite a stir in the press, and there
are lots of protestors out on the lawn chanting their displeasure. I have to
admit that the firing squad is an ancient method of punishment and it is a
little messy. But in Oklahoma it has worked for many years, and it is
effective and quick. Sure, the electric chair may be faster, maybe, but I
don't know as I've never watched a man's balls get fried. But I do know that
when the bullets fire the resultant castration happens so fast it is over
literally before the prisoner has time to even realize it's started. For the
prisoner being unmanned, that seems to me to be a much more humane way of
doing it.
The witness rooms are really made from a single split room, with two separate
entrances and a wall running down its center, each sharing half of a large
rectangular window. Today, both rooms are in use, and one of them is packed.
One room has witnesses that are sympathetic to the prisoner, and the other
room is full of the victims and people that he harmed. I was in that room
earlier, to see the crowd and to get a sense of the people that would want to
come and watch such a thing. Right in front was the last woman Hanson fucked,
along with her son and husband there for support. Several younger girls are in
the room too, and a couple of other married ones he did. As for the family of
the woman he raped, I wonder what they will think as they watch the young
man's balls be pulverized. Will the woman long for them? Will the husband
laugh with relief? Will the boy shake with fear or clap for joy or get hard
with excitement?
At least they will all see it be done, to know without doubt that the college
man with the big stiff overeager cock is no longer a man, no longer a threat
and without any ability to pass his genetic material on to future generations.
In short, they will see him be unmanned, in every since of the word, and if
nothing else they will at least know that he has paid a price and that justice
has been done. As a eunuch, Hanson will no longer be a threat for any woman,
and that is something good that perhaps is worth watching.
It is twenty minutes until noon, and it is time.
I move to the cell, and nod to the guards that have been waiting nearby. Then
I say to him: “Hanson...it’s time. You need to just come along quietly and not
fight this. It will be much easier that way, and you can't stop it. OK?”
Hanson stands up, and starts to back across his cell. The front of his orange
jumpsuit is tented out, straight out, and his cock has thickened and is now
fully erect. The drug induced boner is very apparent, and I find that I cannot
help looking at it. He sees me staring, and then he says: "I'm not going! I
don't deserve this, I don't! Don't get near me....I swear....."
The guards nod and the lock opens with a click as the electronic solenoid on
his cell door is activated. He backs all the way to the wall, and his hands
turn into fists.
“FUCK YOU -- FUCK YOU!!!" he yells.
He stands poised to fight. He's a strong young man, and at twenty-two he's all
muscle. The guards are on him, and as he struggles one of them pushes a stun
gun right against his body and presses the trigger. With the zapppppppppppp
Hanson eyes go wide, and he crumples like a rag doll. He shudders,
disoriented, and then he tries to swing but his arms only flail wildly and in
uncoordinated directions. He gets up on one knee though, and a wild swing
connects with one of the guards, but it's not a solid hit. However, it earns
him another short shot with the zapper, and with it Hanson collapses, the
fight gone out of him like the air leaves a balloon. The guards pick him up
then by the arms, and drag him out of the cell and down the hall toward the
execution area, carrying him by the arms as his feet are dragged behind him.
We pause at the last door before we enter the courtyard, and take a minute out
to strip him. He will not need his clothes anymore until after his balls are
removed, so this is a good point to get them off. He's still awake, but his
brain can't control his muscles. He knows he's being stripped, but he's
helpless to do anything about it. He tries to flail, but it's a feeble effort
and soon enough he's totally naked. When his boxer shorts come down I look at
his cock, hanging from a bald crotch, and it's immediately apparent that he's
lost most of his erection. I'm not worried. Experience tells me that once we
get him into position and the effects of the zapper wear off then it will come
back.
Stripped, he's ready, and then we are all buzzed through the last door, and
then into the yard where he will be unmanned. The firing squad will do the job
in the prison exercise yard, and while that's not the ideal place it has
worked in the past. As he's brought into the sunlight he looks around, still a
little groggy but definitely waking up fast and now fully aware of what is
happening. The big window to the witness rooms is still covered, and as Hanson
is dragged to the restraint frame still quivering from the stun gun I am glad
for it. He starts to struggle again, but it doesn’t make much difference.
Almost before he realizes it's being done, he's strapped down, his arms
stretched wide apart.
The frame is set up so that he is bent slightly forward at the waist, leaning
forward slightly to face the window and the witnesses that will watch his
punishment. Off to either side are the six gun ports, and he faces them as he
faces the window. They strap his legs into the frame, and pull the straps very
tight, so that his legs are stretched and spread wide, very wide, with his
knees slightly bent. His body is bent over that apparatus, and is facing
forward, exposing his genitals and allowing his balls to hang free and clear.
A metallic collar is clamped around his neck, so that he can't move his head
and is forced to look forward, staring at the window and the area where the
shots will be fired. I think the witnesses deserve to see his expression when
his balls are taken, and the collar insures that he will be facing them as it
happens. His legs are clamped wide apart now. He is exactly twenty feet in
front of the window, directly in front of the gun ports. I am standing behind
him as this is being done, and I stare at his ass and can see right into his
hole. His legs are so wide apart that his hole is open, exposed to the air,
and I can see the hairs that ring it as it lays open for me.
Beneath his legs is his sack of shaved balls, and I cannot stop staring at
them. I lick my lips, and anticipate what will happen to them. I walk up to
him then, to get closer, and allow my hand to brush his naked ass, before
dropping it between his legs to fondle his balls. I like the feeling, of
holding the condemned manhood, and feeling the stones within his sac that will
soon be blown into non-existence. It’s a powerful feeling. I pull down on his
sac, because I can, stretching Hanson's sack of balls and pulling it downward
toward his knees.
He doesn’t like me doing that, but he's powerless to stop it. We are getting
close and I am eager, even if Hanson is not. The execution technician looks at
me, and then nods with a smile. He's in his late twenties, with deep brown
eyes, and it occurs to me he would make a good fuck. I smile back at him, and
then, taking the cue, I slip the two latex gloves on, and then let him hand me
the can of marking cream. I am standing behind Hanson then with the can, and
as I do my heart is pounding. This is something that I like to do myself. The
can is open and I reach into it and pull out a thick gob of the florescent
orange marker dye. It's a thick cream, and I take the big glob in my hand and
then reach up under him, until I heft his bag of balls.
Hanson gasps as I touch his sac again, and the feeling of a woman's hand on
his balls is enough that he stiffens more and then in seconds is fully hard
again. I heft his balls and feel them, carefully feeling the stones within his
sac as I massage in the bright orange cream and work it deep into the skin.
The skin of his shaved scrotum is very smooth, and I like touching it. He
gasps louder, and struggles then, even as I work the cream into his balls and
paint them day-glow orange in the process. I do not hurry, but savor the
feeling of holding his manhood. I own him, own his balls, and in a moment in a
very real way I'm going to take them from him. That makes me grin. I am
holding his balls and I will be the last person that will ever do so. It's a
wonderful feeling of power.
Hanson grunts as I fondle his balls, and I give them a squeeze, to remind him
who is in control. He gasps, and his eyes are wide then, and as I work his
nuts his hole opens more and he thrusts forward and into the restraint bench.
He's ready, ready to be castrated, and his dyed nuts are so bright orange now
they glow. There is no way they will be missed by the gunmen.
As I work his balls and spread the dye his cock gets harder and harder. He
knows what I am doing, painting his balls, making them oh-so-visible so they
will make a perfect target. His voice cracks, and as he feels me working in
the cream can't help but beg to me.
“OH...oh...warden.....please....PLEASE DON'T....OH FUCK...FUCK.... OH FUCK
......OH FUCK...PLEASE.....DON'T CASTRATE ME!!!!”
I don't say anything to him. Instead, for an answer I give him a firm, final
and very hard squeeze, just to let him know what he's about to lose. Then I
drop his balls, allowing them to swing free, and peel off the stained gloves.
I look him over, and put my bare hand on his back, feeling the sweat there.
His back is hard, and the muscles ripple. I pull my hand down it, and then
over his ass, slowly making a circle around his hole with my finger.
He gasps...feels me touching him, and he powerless to stop it. His mouth
opens, and he sucks in a deep breath, feeling my finger as it dances through
the hairs that ring his hole. He's trussed out, and in position, his balls
hanging down and now dyed bright orange, ready to be shot off with a single
word from me. He is living his last minutes as a man. I stare at his perfect
body, so well defined, strong and powerful, and his dime-sized nipples like
points, the way they are on a young man who still has his nuts.
Well, it doesn’t matter. Soon they will fatten up too, and it won't be long
until he has a belly. I grin with that thought. His days of being a stud are
about to end, and as he serves out the next five years in prison he will no
doubt become much fatter. In fact, as soon as he loses his balls he will be
open game, and as I stare at his hole I wonder how long it will be until it
gets filled with its first cock. I do not imagine it will be very long at all.
The muscles of his big thighs are straining, trying to close his legs and to
protect his balls. I guess I can't blame him. But the restraints hold him
firmly, and everything is exposed and ready. The prisoner looks so desperate
now. I look down at his bright orange balls and almost laugh. Well, they have
been his problem, so in that since we are doing him a favor. At least, I think
we are.
There is one more thing that must be done. The execution technician hands me
the banding pliers, and he's already loaded them with a green rubber
castration donut. I hesitate, and decide to walk around in front of Hanson
before I use them, just to look him in the eye and let him see the device in
my hand. Of course, being from Oklahoma, he knows exactly what it is. From the
look of disbelief on his face it is obvious it never occurred to him that he
would one day feel a bull bander being used to snap a ring of rubber around
his own nuts. Well, three years ago he wouldn't have, but we have learned a
few things and now we use it with every man we castrate. The big advantage is
it prevents any major blood loss, and it works so well it use is mandatory
now.
All Hanson knows for sure is that he doesn’t like it, and when he sees it
there, loaded on the pliers, his eyes go wide and his voice cracks. He starts
to beg me: "Warden...oh PLEASE. DON'T....DON'T USE THAT! IT'S FOR MAKING
STEERS FOR GOD'S SAKE!"
I grin, and then I say "Yes...I know."
As I walk around behind him, his big thigh muscles strain, trying to close his
legs. I slip the open pliers up, and slide the spread rubber ring around his
dangling sac, and as he feels it being done to him he gasps. He tries to jerk
hard, and then his voice cracks in fear like a pubescent teenagers as he says
"Oh..OH GOD....DON'T....DON'T BAND ME! I'M NOT AN ANIMAL FOR GOD'S SAKE!
PLEASE DON'T BAND ME!"
Just as he says that I release the pliers, and the little ring of rubber snaps
off the open prongs and closes tightly around the top of his scrotum,
strangling his sac of balls in the process. He bucks his hips hard, into the
restraint device, and grunts loud as his nuts feel the snap. It hurts like
hell of course, and yet his boner gets even stiffer, totally erect and hard
and almost as if the very act of being banded is sexually stimulating. Hell,
for him, perhaps it is.
They say it feels like a hard kick in the balls that doesn’t let up. I don't
know of course, but whatever it feels like Hanson doesn’t like it. He bucks
and jerks and shakes the device he's strapped into, struggling like a madman
as he tries to shake off the band. For such a tiny ring of rubber it certainly
makes him go crazy, bucking his hips like a madman. It is very obvious that he
doesn't like it at all. I can't help but stare at his bottom jerking around to
the extent he can move it, which isn't much because the straps are so tight.
He bucks his hips and drives forward as hard as he can, into the bar that he
is strapped against, almost humping the restraint device as he fights the pain
in his nuts. Between his legs, his florescent orange balls look funny, the top
of his sac now cinched closed and ready for the bullets to do their work.
The execution technician reloads the bander and then hands it back to me,
loaded again with another green donut. This band has a small stainless steel
wire threaded through it, so as I put it up and over his balls I literally am
attaching the wire to his nuts. He's struggling the entire time, but it
doesn’t stop me from slipping another band over his nuts one more time. I snap
off the second band, so close it touches the first, which double insures his
nuts are banded and there is no doubt that they have been well-noosed. He
screams "NOOOOOOOOOOOOO" with the second snap, and he slams his head back into
the metal collar that secures it in his frustration. There is nothing he can
to do prevent any of this, and I'm smiling as I watch him sweat and struggle.
The steel wire that goes through the second band has two loose ends running
down from it, and the technician sets them behind his balls so they aren't
visible from the front. The loose ends of the wire loop are then pushed
through a hole in the bar that runs between his knees and which has been
drilled to accommodate it. The bar is then turned with a lever, and as it is
the two pieces of the stainless steel wire become shorter, which pulls
downward on his scrotum and stretches it at the top. The bar is turned some
more, and the wire grows even shorter, and then shorter still, pulling
downward even more on his scrotum full of balls. He throws his head back and
slams it into the restraint collar again and again and again. He is so mad and
yet he can't do anything about it. As his nuts are stretched out and the bands
hold his scrotum closed, keeping the blood from reaching his nuts, he grunts
and bucks his hips and struggles hard to escape the feeling of the ever
increasing ache in his ball sack.
In effect, Hanson nuts are being pulled downward more and more and because of
the bands his balls have already in a real way begun to die on the vine. Of
course, they are still very much alive, and will remain so at least until the
bullets have turned them into mush. Since he's firmly strapped into position,
his dying balls are being stretched from his body one millimeter at a time
with every turn of the bar. More importantly, the wire effectively clamps his
nuts fast to the bar, so that even if he moves or struggles or jerks his body
his balls will no longer be able to move upward or side-to-side. Even if he
lifts upward with his hips the skin on his scrotum will stretch and neck down,
but the balls themselves and the sac that contains them will remain where it
is, held tight by the unstretchable wire that holds his package in place for
the bullets to destroy. The result of all of this is that his nuts are now
being held totally stationary, and he cannot even wiggle them and they no
longer swing free beneath him. Even if he moves his hips the only thing that
will happen is that the skin will stretch above his balls. The short piece of
stainless steel wire holds his bright orange nuts stationary no matter what he
does, presenting the perfect target for the marksmen that will be soon be
aiming at them.
Hanson can't believe it, and he's fighting hard now, the effects of the zapper
completely worn off. He balls are aching now, but more than that he's really
scared, and as he struggles it almost gives the impression he's humping the
device he's strapped into. It's not really true of course, but since he's held
bent over, with his knees apart and his head up, it does give the impression
he's mounting a woman. His cock has stayed stiff, a combination of the Viagra
in his system and the extended time since he's been allowed to have an orgasm.
His prick is literally oozing semen, a thin line of goo hanging out of the end
of his cock like snot. Even so, he's so scared he's on the verge of total
panic. In spite of that he finds the strength to fight the feeling, and his
ass pushes up and then down, driving his hips forward even though his wired
balls don't move as he struggles. To me it increases the illusion and gives
the impression he's fucking the air.
The only thing left is to secure his cock and keep it up and out of the way.
After that he can be unmanned. This time I watch, as the execution technician
takes a protective stainless steel tube and slips it over the end of his big
man-sized cock. It is lined with soft rabbit fur of all things, and is fuzzy.
It's not done to make him feel good as much as it is to keep the tube from
scratching him or causing any abrasion injuries. When he struggles his cock
can get jerked around within the tube, and if it wasn't lined with something
soft it could be injured. Of course, the fur does give him some pleasure, and
sure enough as the fur lined tube is slid over his big pulsating dick his
expression tells me that it is tickling the end and sides of his cock.
Immediately, his stiff dick grows even stiffer, and then it begins to thicken
more than I would have thought was possible. I'm afraid he might ejaculate,
and I bite my lip hoping it doesn’t happen. His stiff prick swells and
thickens as I watch, and soon literally fills the metal tube like a plump
sausage, dripping from the end.
He could cum at any minute. I can tell the feeling of the fur touching his
dick is giving him pleasure, and I make a mental note to use something else
next time. As I watch, the technician next threads an elastic cord down the
end of the tube. Attached to the end of the cord is a strong spring clamp,
with ugly, jagged and very sharp teeth, and it is defiantly not something you
would want to feel clamped anywhere on your body. That doesn’t stop the man
preparing Hanson though, and he pushes open the clamp exposing the wicked
looking teeth. Hanson's dick is quivering, bouncing slightly with the pounding
of his heartbeat, close to squirting and his orgasm rising within him from all
of the attention. Just about the time I think he will start shooting out his
goo Hanson grimaces, and a look of shock and pain spreads across his face,
steeling his orgasm just before it starts. It happens the instant when the
technician grabs the loose skin directly underneath the head of his dick and
snaps the jaws of the clamp into it.
Hanson's dick is circumcised, so there is nothing in the way as the clamp is
snapped closed and bites into the loose skin there, which is what's left of
his dick's frenulum. It's still a bundle of nerves, and it hurts like hell!
Hanson screams then, and bucks his hips, hard, and after that he's struggling
like a maniac. His feeling of pending orgasm is gone with the bite of the
clamp, and instead a sharp pain in his dick has replaced the pleasure he had.
He bucks his hips and jerks hard, straining every muscle in his body as he
desperately tries to dislodge the green rings around his nuts and the sharp
clamp now biting into the underside of his dickhead. His eyes are wide open,
in disbelief perhaps, and his back glistens as he struggles and sweats like a
pig. One thing is certain; he doesn't like the feeling! Well, too bad I say!
Hanson drives forward, hard into the restraint device, and his hard cock
slides within the soft fur of the steel tube as he does. The other end of the
elastic cord is pulled outward until the cord is stretched, and then it's
clipped to the metal clamp that is holding his neck and keeping him facing
forward, toward the window and gun ports. The stretched cord in turn pulls
upward on his dick, which makes sure his dick stays high and up and out of the
path of the bullets. The cord stretches and pulls on his cock no matter how
hard he struggles, which makes the teeth on the clamp bite into his dick skin
deep and with an intensity that he cannot believe. It is obvious that it hurts
like hell, and as his cock is pulled upward within the metal tube he grunts
and struggles and shakes in desperation from the jabbing pain of it.
Next, the technician secures the tube at its base by two cords that are tied
tightly to the sides of the frame, just to make sure he doesn’t attempt to
move his genitals side to side. Hanson shudders, and gasps....and stares. He
jerks his entire body trying to fight the feeling, but his cock is stretched
out and upward then, pulled out with the stiff elastic cord. He is freaking
out, in a panic, and he shakes his entire body in his desperation. Everything
wiggles it seems but his orange nuts, which are clamped firmly in place by the
wire, held rigid and still no matter what he does. They are the target, and do
not move at all, even as he struggles as hard as he can. Of course, that
result is intentional, and the stillness of his bright orange nuts will be
their doom.
With the Viagra in his system and his cock sliding within the rabbit fur it
grows stiffer in spite of the pain from the clamp. Even the end of his dick
turns purple in spite of the sharp points jabbing under his dickhead. Soon,
his cock is dripping even more, literally, and soon once again he's on the
very edge of ejaculating, his full nuts bulging and fat with his cream. He
stares and waits then, for what is to come, and if anyone would stroke his
dick right now he'd shoot his wad in a second. But nobody touches his dick,
and instead it just hangs in the air on the very edge of squirting, within its
tube, stiff and hard and oh-so-eager, pointing up and aiming at the window.
His full nuts hang below, all by themselves and waiting for the order and for
their destruction.
The time is going well, and he is ready. I do one more thing, just before I
leave him and let the witnesses see him. I don't really want him too defiant,
and when the victims are looking at him its good to see a man in remorse. I am
behind him, looking at the sweat on his back, and then I lean over to him, and
as I do I let my hand take his nuts into my fist one last time. I give him a
gently squeeze, and then I whisper to him: "You know Hanson, you have fucked
your last woman. Yeah....I've got your nuts now, and it’s the last time you
will ever feel a woman holding them. In a moment, they are going to get shot
right off of you, and you know it and I know it and there is nothing you can
do at this point but wait for it to be done. I'll give you one warning, and
you had better heed it. Do you hear me speaking to you?" As I asked him the
question I squeeze his nuts, not too hard, but hard enough he knows I mean
business.
He stares straight ahead, feeling me holding his manhood, and his eyes are
wide with fear. He nods his head, not daring to speak. Then I say "Good....I'm
glad you do. In a moment you will have a chance to speak, and all I had better
hear you say is an apology to the woman you fucked and an admission you
deserve your castration. If you say anything else you're going in the open
cell bay when this is all over. Do you know what that means?"
He shakes his head, staring. He hasn’t thought things out that far. He's no
longer struggling, but is instead listening intently. I drop his noosed nuts,
and bring my hand up, until my index finger is next to his hole. Instinct
takes over and he closes his ring of muscle, his virgin pucker hole slamming
shut like a clam. I feel it, and laugh, and then I just push my finger through
his muscle, until it is in him, deep, all the way in until it's literally
touching his prostate. As I do that he gasps and his eyes go wide with the
feeling. That's when I say: "Well...it means if you say the wrong thing your
hole is going to be the home to a lot of hard cocks over the next few years.
I'm sure you don't want that, do you?" As I ask that question, I work my
finger over his prostate, around and around his walnut sized bud. He gasps
louder when I do...and his cock drools more cream. He's on the very verge of
ejaculating. I own him.
He shakes his head back and forth, back and forth. We understand each other.
Then I say: "You want to cum one more time?"
He nods his head, up and down........begging me not to stop. I pull my finger
out with a pop, and then give his nuts one more squeeze. With the rubber rings
closing the top of his sac, his nuts have become ultra sensitive and I know
they are starting to burn. I circle my middle finder and thumb and then flick
my finger into his sac, hard, and when I do he grunts, loudly. I slide my
finger back into his hole, and let it move in and out, fucking his anus. His
eyes are wide, and I have his full attention. Then I say, "Well...I bet you
do. Be a good boy and say the right thing, and give a sincere apology to that
women you raped. And make SURE you tell her and everyone else that you deserve
to lose your balls. I want to hear you say that and then we will see."
I pull my finger out then, with a pop, and walk away from him. I give a nod,
and the curtain is drawn back, and for the first time the witnesses see the
prisoner who is about to be unmanned. He is staring at the big window, and
they in turn at him. He's stark naked, and all trussed out, leaning forward
and with his stiff dick pointing upward and out, almost as if he's just pulled
it from a woman. There is a line of clear seminal fluid drooling out the end
of his cock, catching the sunlight and going all the way to the ground. The
end of his cock is flared big and purple, on the very verge of shooting his
wad, and yet he can't quite put himself over the edge. The view makes the
woman he fucked gasp, and someone in the rooms says "How dare him! Look at
HIM....the pervert is HARD!"
Hanson's face flushes red with humiliation. He's totally embarrassed, and that
makes me glad. Most everyone in the room with the woman is grinning, staring
at him staring at them, looking at his big hard cock and his balls hanging
down and waiting for the bullets to take them. The window is shared by two
separate rooms of course, and in the separated area a few of his friends are
gathered for support, including his brother. Unlike the crowd in the other
room staring with glee and eager anticipation, they stare with pained
expressions, shocked at what they are seeing. Hanson's bright orange balls are
oh-so-visible, and since they still believe his innocence they stare with a
look of terror and helplessness. While all this is happening the shooters go
to their posts, and I see the guns move as they are picked up one by one.
My thoughts for a second go to the shooters. I love the dynamics of a firing
squad, the way each man is part of the team, yet unable to stop or prevent
what the team as a whole will do. No matter his personal thoughts, no shooter
alone can stop the outcome, and even if he didn't fire, the rest of the
shooters would insure success and he would be chastised forevermore. So, in
that since, there is no incentive not to shoot, and so because of that every
man will do his job.
At the same time, one of the shooter's guns is loaded with a blank, but none
of them know which of them it is. In the end, after it is done, all of them
will have the feeling that their own recoil was a little light, and so they
will each imagine that it was they who fired the blank round that did nothing.
Still, the truth is that six of them will shoot, and five bullets will rip
through and into that bright orange sac of flesh that currently defines the
man waiting with his legs spread wide. As they do the sac of balls will be
obliterated, and only a sexless eunuch will remain.
It is time. I move to the microphone, and then I say my lines:
“Mark Hanson, you have been found guilty of rape by a jury of your peers, and
by the laws of the state of Oklahoma you have been sentenced to have your
testicles removed by firing squad. Does the prisoner have anything to say
before the sentence is carried out?”
I wait, and the microphone below his chin is turned on. The clock shows
exactly one minute until noon, and depending on what he says and how long it
goes we will be on schedule. I am hoping I scared him enough to make him
apologize, as that always gives the victims some satisfaction and it is nice
when I can make that happen.
His voice cracks, and he stares at the woman who put him here. I can tell he
wants to say something else, and his voice cracks again. For a second I think
he's going to proclaim his innocence and give his old arguments of being set
up. But then he looks over at me, a quick glance. I make a fist with my left
hand, and insert the index finger of my right hand into the hole there, and
push it in and out with a fucking motion. His face goes white and after that I
know I've got him and I can almost see any thoughts he had of being defiant
totally disappear. He looks at me one more time, and then back to the window
and the faces looking at him. He stares at the woman who he fucked, and then,
weighing what he would gain against what he could lose, he mumbles "I......I'm
sorry.....I.....didn't......I mean....I'm sorry....and....yeah...OK...OK; I
raped...raped her. Oh fuck....oh FUCK...yeah....I RAPED HER."
He looks down in shame, and his face goes red. He looks back at me, and I am
looking at him, with a look of concern on my face. I move my lips, and
silently mouth the word "MORE".
He gets the message, and then he adds: "I...I DESERVE TO.....I DESERVE TO LOSE
MY BALLS."
I almost laugh with glee. So, he said it! Hah! I'm so good! What a fool!
Hanson looks over at me, and I am smiling, with a big toothy grin. I wave to
the technician and with a click I have his microphone turned off before he can
change his mind or his words. At that same instant, a light goes red and the
firing line goes hot.
I nod, and give the OK to continue, and immediately I hear a voice on the
loudspeaker, clear and distinct:
"R E A D Y"
He stares.
Suddenly, as I watch, Hanson looks away from the woman he has been staring at,
and shifts his gaze to the other side of the window, where his brother's face
is looking totally aghast. His friends can be seen too, and they look shocked
and are obviously very bothered by the words they heard him say. All of them
have heard his confession and did not expect it. Hanson notices them then as
well, and his face has the look of surprise. He had not expected them to be
here, and as he sees them its quite apparent to me that he seems to change his
mind. He tries to say something else, perhaps to explain it to them, but I've
shut off his microphone and he realizes it. He looks at me with pleading eyes
and I wink back at him and giggle. He panics then, and starts to shake his
head, trying to yell out something in protest. I need to hurry things and I
look to the technician to do it.
A loud voice on the speaker drowns out his words: "AIMMMMMMMMMMMM"
He starts to struggle...wildly, trying to wiggle his balls, to jerk them, to
make them move and to keep them from being shot off of his body. He thrusts
forward, hard, and then backwards and forwards and backwards and
forwards....faster and faster and faster. His balls do not move even so, as
the wire holds them still, although his cock slides somewhat within its fur
lined tube with each thrust that he makes. He tires to swing his balls with a
desperation that is hard to describe, and I almost want to laugh as I watch
him work as hard as he can to protect his manhood. His cock moves a little
more as he struggles, sliding in and out through the fur lined sleeve that
holds it up high and out of the way.
He screams "NO! NOOOOOOOO! DON'T!!!!!" Then, suddenly, he starts to ejaculate,
the feeling of his cock sliding through the rabbit fur enough to put him over
the edge in spite of the pain from the clamp under the head of his dick. As he
does his entire body shudders and everyone see it. He yells out "OH....
GODDDDD" as he begins to pump out his load, the intensity of his orgasm
rocking his entire body. Oh well, I knew it could happen. It’s a huge
ejaculation....and his cum squirts out of his prick like a series of thick
white ropes, shooting out in rhythmic pulsations one right after the other. He
is shooting one of the most massive and intense wads I've ever seen a man
produce, pumping out his semen with an intensity unlike anything I've ever
witnessed. His big cock is flared, and it is pumping squirt after squirt after
squirt.
The first of his wad goes half way to the window, and the second squirt goes
almost as far. His goo is thick and copious, and as he pumps it out he stares
with an open mouth and eyes wide, the look of disbelieve on his face as he
shudders from what is almost certainly the single most powerful orgasm of his
life. And, of course, it is also his last.
I never hear the final command. Instead, suddenly there is a shockwave of
sound that is sudden and intense and has no bounds. It catches everyone by
surprise and it is much louder than anyone was ready for. No matter how many
times I hear it I too am never ready when it comes. It literally ripples,
echoing through the entire prison as six shots ring as one, and in that
instant everything changes and the man becomes a eunuch.
"KA-BOOMOOM OOM OOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMM mmmmmmm!!!!"
He is castrated so fast he doesn’t have time to realize it's being done.
Instead he just hears the sound and realizes it's already happened, as his
balls are splattered into smithereens. In less than the blink of an eye there
is nothing left between his legs where his balls were hanging, although the
remains of his sac are splattered against the wall behind him, a mush of red
goop that almost looks like a big glob of paint. There is nothing in fact
between his legs to indicate he ever had testicles, and his scrotum has been
removed so cleanly that only the little green rubber donuts are left, still
cinching the skin together that once grew down and into a scrotum.
His eyes are really wide, and he shakes, slamming his head back as his balls
are vaporized and his orgasm is ended before it was finished. He knows
immediately he's lost his balls and that it has been done, and he feels the
shock of it of course like some giant powerful kick in the nuts. The bile
comes up in his throat, and he almost vomits. As he swallows it back down he
feels a dull ache and a tremendous feeling of emptiness that fills him
completely. The woman he had fucked falls over in shock, but the boy and her
husband start laughing, hysterically, laughing with an intensity that I won't
soon forget.
Hanson can't believe it, and he slams his head back into his restraint collar
in frustration. He struggles hard for a few long moments with every muscle in
his body, almost as if he could somehow get loose and find his balls that have
been stolen. I let everyone watch the new eunuch struggle. His big cock is
still twitching, although his wad stopped squirting when his balls came off.
Still, his cock remains stiff and proud for a few minutes more, and he just
stares with an open mouth in total disbelief that he's been unmanned. His
orgasm, as intense and satisfying as it was, was snatched from him in the same
instant that he lost his nuts, and now only the dull ache where his balls used
to be remains.
On the ground in front of him are his lines of spent semen, laid out like
little white ropes, squirted out for everyone to see. It seems a waste to have
pumped his last seed in the dirt, but to me it is fitting too, and I for one
am glad to see he's finally been castrated. As far as I'm concerned, it is
something that should have been done to him a long time ago.
I give the nod, and finally, the curtain is closed on the witness window and
it is done. It has gone well, and the castration of Mark Hanson is complete. I
watch as the medical technicians enter the yard and begin to undo the straps
that held the prisoner in position. He doesn’t fight them now, and he is meek
and in some ways he acts like a rag doll. As they take the clamp off of his
cock and slide the metal tube from his shaft, his spent prick falls downward,
already relaxed, just a wet noodle and shrinking ever smaller by the second.
His ball less worm looks a lot less impressive now and it certainly is no
longer anything to be proud of. Two technicians take him by the arms and with
their help he half walks, and I watch as he shuffles to the wheel chair that
will take him to the infirmary, his spent hose hanging like a dead worm
between his legs. It's already shrunken now into a thin nub of a cock, and
without any pubic hair he looks like a little boy. It occurs to me that
without his nuts his hair won't be growing back again and that makes me smile.
I think it’s a nice look for him.
There is no fight left in him. No defiance whatsoever. The doctors will work
on him of course, but they won't do a lot, although they will sew the skin
closed that is currently held together by the little rubber donuts. By
tomorrow he'll be back in the main prison to serve out the remaining five
years of his sentence.
As he is taken away I look at the stain on the wall, and try to imagine it as
more than a smear of color. It's hard to see it as a man's balls, and yet
that's exactly what it is. I decide that I'll let him have some privacy with a
cell of his own, until his stitches come out, but after that I know I'll have
to put him out and let things happen as they should. I have little sympathy
for men that rape women, and after taking their balls I honestly feel the best
way to avenge their crimes is to allow them to get a taste of what they did.
Hanson looks over his shoulder and we lock eyes one last time. I grin, and
give him a wink, and his faces blushes red with the embarrassment of what he
has become. He's totally defeated, and the defiance he had has evaporated with
his balls. As I watch him go I think about his virgin hole, and how it was so
tight and pushed against my finger as I probed it into him. Well, that's about
to change. Soon Hanson will find himself bent over a prison bed with a train
of eager cocks wanting their release. One after the other they will soon be
pumping so deep into his ass they will slam into his prostate and fill him
with their cream. When that happens I know it will be something he richly
deserves. Yes, I think that's fitting. Very fitting in fact. In fact, by the
time he gets out of my prison his hole will be twice its current size and
he'll have sucked so many cocks he'll be good at it. Yeah, that thought makes
me smile. One thing I know without doubt is that I am going to have a really
good time making sure that happens.
[Authors note: © Copyright May, 2004. All rights reserved. Not to be copied
without the consent of the author. All comments are appreciated, more than you
can know. [email protected]]
* * *
` |
The fancy dress castration SS Style | `
# The fancy dress castration SS Style
By: Millie
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[STRAIGHT] [PENECTOMY] [TESTICLES] [NULLIFICATION] [MINOR] Other: Snuff and
lesbian incest
Sophie and Nicky get to castrate Nicky's new boss at a Fancy Dress
Party for just the three of them.
* * *
`
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* * *
Sophie looked up at her Wife and Mother Nicky and purred, “I know
how we can celebrate our first wedding anniversary.” “How’s that my
darling?” asked Nicky. “We should have a fancy dress castration
party.” Giggled Sophie a breathless sexually excited whisper. Nicky
smiled with approval and quickly agreed that they should celebrate
their first wedding anniversary with a fancy dress castration
party. “Ok, Nicky you get the man and I’ll get the fancy dress
costumes and toys to perform the castration.” Purred Sophie with
eager anticipation. About a week after starting a new job in the
town they had just moved to and two weeks before the party Nicky
walked into the office of her new boss. Her boss Mr. Jones did not
hear Nicky walk in to his office and stand behind him. Nicky felt a
flush of excitement as she very quietly stood behind her boss and
looked over his right shoulder and looked at his computer monitor
to see that he was looking at up-skirts porn sites on the internet.
Nicky slowly crept out of Mr. Jones’s office and then started to
plan a way of getting him to get him on his own with Sophie at the
fancy dress castration party. The next day Nicky went to work and
made an appointment to speak to Mr. Jones about some pretend
problem she was having at work. Nicky made sure that she wore her
shortest and most revealing skirt for her appointment with Mr.
Jones and sat opposite him in a chair that would make sure that
every time she moved he would have an excellent view up her skirt
at her thighs and knickers. Nicky smiled like an angel at Mr. Jones
as he sat intently listening to her problems whilst trying to sneak
peaks up her skirt when ever he thought that she wasn’t listening.
Nicky felt revulsion and hatred for him as she watched him look up
her skirt but rather beat him she smiled softly at him.
As the conversation was about to be drawn to an end Nicky lied that
she was having problems with Sophie her young daughter (and lesbian
husband) and that she would need some assistance or advice from a
mature wise person. Mr. Jones smiled and asked Nicky to call him
Ian and offered any help or advice that might be of help to
Nicky. “You could do something for me. Sophie and I are having a
fancy dress party maybe you could come and have a quiet chat with
her and see if you can get her to be nice to me?” asked Nicky. “I’d
love to, just let me know when.” Replied Ian. During the morning of
the party Nicky called into her bosses office when she knew that he
was alone and told him that the party was planned for the evening
and that he need not worry about getting a costume as one had been
arranged for him. Nicky felt herself becoming very sexual aroused
when he said that he would go to the party that evening and wear
the costume that Sophie had bought for him.
Nicky and Sophie made themselves ready for Ian to arrive and
prepared the trap for him. Sophie had made sure that Nicky had no
idea what any of them was to wear at the party and wrapped Nicky’s
costume up carefully and put it on their bed and hid her costume in
the bathroom and then wrapped Ian’s costume and put it on the spare
bed. Sophie then went downstairs and waited with Nicky for Ian to
arrive. When he knocked on the door Sophie ordered her mother to
let him in and then send Ian to the spare bedroom and put on his
costume and then go to their bedroom and put on her own costume.
Sophie then went to the bathroom, put on her own costume, and
waited in the bathroom whilst Nicky and Ian put on theirs. Sophie
waited for about 15 minutes and walked onto the landing between the
main bedroom and the spare bedroom. Sophie then called for both
Nicky and Ian to close their eyes and make their way onto the
landing to join her and only to open they eyes when she let them.
Sophie smiled with eager excitement as she watched Nicky open their
bedroom and walk slowly out with her eyes closed. She loved her
very much and her heart raced with passion whenever she saw Nicky
but her heart pounded with intense sexual desire when she saw Nicky
in her costume. When she saw Ian make his clumsy way onto the
landing, she laughed to herself as she imagined what they were
about to do to him. Then when they had both been positioned in
front of her she gave then order for them to open their eyes. When
Ian opened his eyes, he felt his cock suddenly start to stiffen
into a big painful erection when he saw young Sophie in her black
Waffen SS uniform. As he turned to see that Nicky was wearing a
similar costume, he felt that he was about to cum in his pants.
Looking at Sophie and then Ian Nicky felt her pussy get very wet
and hot when she saw Sophie’s SS uniform and then she felt herself
start to pant with blood lust when she saw Ian’s prisoners uniform.
Sophie then snapped, “I am Oberführer Sophie of the 3rd SS-Panzer
division ‘Totenkopf’ and this is Standartenführer Nicky you are now
our prisoner! Move down stair swinehund!” When Sophie had pushed,
punched and kicked Ian downstairs into the basement She smiled at
his bright eager face as he looked with open desire at Sophie sexy
young body clad in a black SS uniform. He looked lovingly at her
black Jackboots and admired her young body in the tight fitting
trousers and tunic. Ian swooned with excitement as Nicky and Sophie
grabbed hold of him and threw him onto the floor at their feet and
then started to kick him with their boots. He could not understand
it but her was loving every kick they threw at him. Then to his
great joy and pleasure they pulled him into a spread eagle position
on a wooden board his back and then tied him to it.
Then they pulled down his trousers and Sophie grabbed hold of his
cock and balls and snarled “You sub human scum I am going to make
sure that your kind never prove to be a danger to the Lesbian Reich
or to myself and my wife Standartenführer Nicky!” Ian felt his cock
stiffen and throb with desire in Sophie’s soft young hands. Sophie
then brought the toys, attached some probes to Ian’s balls, and
started to give him painful electric shocks. She started to shocks
at a very low setting just to get herself and Nicky in the mood for
the higher settings. As Sophie increased the settings to the higher
setting Nicky felt herself get so excited as Ian started to scream
in pain that she pushed her hands into her SS pants and started to
play with her clitoris. Nicky could hold herself back any brought
herself to a huge orgasm as Sophie put the electric shock setting
to the highest and gave Ian a huge powerful electric shock into his
red and inflamed balls causing him to scream loudly and faint.
As they waited for Ian to regain consciousness Sophie and Nicky
kissed and caressed each other with passion. When he came round
Nicky took her Officers SS knife and placed the tip of the blade
against the skin of his right ball and savoured the sexual feelings
of pleasure as she slowly pushed the blade deep into his ball and
out the other side. The feelings of pleasure it caused her to
experience was heightened by his screams on pain, jerks and
writhing in agony and the spurt of blood that covered her knife and
hands. Whilst Nicky was pushing her knife into his right ball
Sophie started to play with herself and enjoyed the sight of Ian’s
suffering and the pleasure it gave to Nicky. When Nicky had
finished stabbing and twisting her SS knife into his right ball
turning into a bloody mess Sophie took a piece of cheese wire and
wrapped it round the base of his balls and started to pull it tight
so that it cut off his balls. As she did, this Nicky stood behind
Sophie so that her breasts rubbed against Sophie’s back and slipped
her hands into Sophie’s knickers and played with her pussy. When
Sophie had cut off his balls, she put the wire round the base his
cock and slowly cut through its shaft.
Nicky slowly brought Sophie to an orgasm as the wire cut through
his cock meat and severed it off his body. They then ate his cock
and balls and then wrapped they thighs round his neck so that they
could kiss, and touch each other breast and pussies as they
strangled him between them as they made love. They then squeezed
the vile life out of him as they made wild lesbian love bringing
each other to a huge orgasm as he breathed his last breath.
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||
Oh Boy | WARNING, MINOR, age regresssion, diapers, bizarre body mods, hypnosis, humiliation | A totally normal guy takes his friends out on a bar hop on his 18th birthday. When close hour hits they end up in a gay bar. Here our hero meets his master, though he doesn\'t know it yet. Master takes our hero home and turns him into his boy toy. This is rather longish story about humiliation and frustration, and it does deal with diaper usage. But rest assured, our hero won\'t cum once. So, if you aren\'t afraid of diaper usage, enjoy this story... | Meeting Daddy
=============
I'm still wondering how all this could happen to me. I think it was his
irresistible charisma that made me fall for him.
My story begins on my eighteenth birthday. After having a few drinks with some
of my friends at my flat I invited them on a bar hop. Everything on my tab. I
could afford this, since my parents died in a tragic car accident some time
ago, and I had inherited a small fortune. Well, not really a fortune in the
grand scheme of things, but some 75.000$ and a house is a small fortune for
someone like me.
First, we went to some striptease clubs. Then closing hour hit, but we found
one bar still open.
We were too drunk to realize that this particular bar had a gay only party
this evening. We also didn't notice that nearly all guests were male, and that
some of them were kissing passionately in dark corners. My friends wanted
another drink on my tab, and that was OK with me. We sat down and ordered
another round from a beautiful, big breasted waitress.
Since we were really, really drunk then, we became louder and louder. It
didn't take long until a really huge guy came to our table and told us to
quiet down.
Though I didn't give a damn about almost anything then, I didn't want to start
a fight. So I invited him to a beer. He sat down at our table, next to me. He
told us about his life. He had traveled the world. He had been to Asia,
Africa, Australia and Europe. He even claimed having been in Antarctica. I was
mesmerized by his stories and hang onto his lips. Until then I hadn't been to
any foreign country, not even Canada.
He also spoke a few foreign languages and gave some examples. I simply
couldn't break away from him. Along the way I noticed that my friends bade
their farewell. They were absolutely wasted and had to hit the bed. But I was
so fascinated by him that I slowly got sober again.
"So, since your friends are gone we can get a little closer.", he said
suddenly.
"What?", I replied disgusted.
"How comes, you are gay, aren't you?", he asked.
"Definitely not! What makes you think that?", I said agitated.
"Well, for starters, this is a gay party, didn't you know?", he asked and put
his hand into my crotch.
"NO! Stop it! I'm not gay!", I shot back.
"OK, I get it! Calm down! But do me the favor and let us have one last beer.
I'll pay. Until now we were so good friends. I don't want to spoil that. You
seemed to be quite open. Maybe we can be friends anyway. I promise that I
won't touch you again.", he said quite disappointed and took his arm from my
shoulders.
His obvious disappointment and his charisma made me weak.
"OK, one last beer, but then I have to hit the bed. I have to admit that
you're a really fascinating guy, but nothing more!", I said firmly.
Then I ordered the beer from the big breasted waitress. I felt a boner growing
in my pants the instant I saw her.
"I understand. No gayness from me any more. I understand that you don't like
it. I guess I'll have to live with it. Though I'm kinda surprised that you
didn't leave immediately. You seem to have an open heart.", he replied.
When the waitress brought the beer, we clinked glasses on our new friendship.
I had no idea how close this friendship would become. I though we were only
having a beer together. So I thought... But shortly after I took the first sip
I got terribly sick. Everything began to spin around and then I passed out.
The Awakening
=============
As I woke up again I wished I hadn't. I felt really, really sick. My head
throbbed like someone was beating it with a sledge hammer. I didn't dare to
open my eyes. That probably would make things even worse. Slowly I remembered.
Gosh, that was one hell of an evening. No wonder I had a giant hangover. Such
excessive drinking couldn't pan out well.
While the feeling slowly returned to my body I felt that something definitely
was not right. This wasn't my bed. But that could be a good thing. I clearly
remembered the big breasted waitress. I hoped that this was her bed.
I tried to move my arms, but I couldn't. I was restrained. I tried again, this
time more vigorously, but I still couldn't overcome the restraints. The
headache became worse, though. It seemed that I eventually had to open my
eyes.
I did it and looked directly into his face.
"Good morning, my little one!", he greeted me gleefully.
"Wh... What...", I stuttered.
Slowly I remembered that part of the evening. This was the guy I met in the
gay bar! But why was he here? Did I sleep with him? No way, I wasn't gay! I
desperately tried to remember what happened after the last beer, but there
only was a big, black hole. It was as if I had passed out after that. Maybe I
had, or I had a huge blackout.
"What happened?", I asked helplessly and tried to move my arms again.
"Why am I restrained? What's the meaning of this?"
"You're simply too good to let go. I couldn't let this opportunity pass.", he
said.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Do you remember last night?", he asked.
"Yes, kinda, blearily.", I replied.
"You do remember that I am gay, don't you?"
"Yes."
"Then let me explain. I'm not just gay, I also like little boys. Boys where
puberty hasn't kicked in yet. Small, helpless boys who are totally dependent
on me. Those are my favorites. Some would call me a pedophile."
"That's disgusting! But why are you telling me this?", I asked.
This guy was definitely sick. He needed professional help. I couldn't stand it
when someone abused helpless persons like women or children.
"Like I said, I couldn't let an opportunity like you pass.", he answered.
"You said that. What does that mean?"
"Well, It has become more and more dangerous to have fun with real children.
The media tend to hype those cases and chances are that I get caught. So I
devised an alternate plan, and you're the key to it.", he said.
"I don't understand a word.", I said slightly scared.
This was bad, though I still didn't know what he wanted from me.
"Then let me explain. YOU will be my little boy. You'll be the boy I can abuse
every day without the danger of being caught.", he explained.
"But I am not a little boy...", I said perplexed.
I was an grown man, eighteen years old. One could argue whether being eighteen
years of age really meant to be a grown up, but that's a completely different
thing. By law I was an adult when reaching the age of eighteen. Admittedly I
wasn't that tall, only about 5'7", but that didn't make me a little boy.
"Not yet, but soon...", he murmured.
"What the hell does that mean?", I asked.
"Seems you're quite slow today. I am a surgeon. And I'll turn you into my
little toy boy. I don't care if you like it or not. You'll be my little boy.
Actually it's not that difficult. I'll reduce your height to about 4'11" and
your weight to about 110lbs. With such a small figure you'll already look very
much like a little boy. It'll only take some admittedly quite sophisticated
surgery, but it is doable. But that won't be all. I have some other ideas. And
when I'm finished and everything went well you'll be my perfect toy. You'll be
even better than a real eleven year old boy. You'll see. One thing is as sure
as hell: When you wake up again you'll be forever mine. My eleven year old
Eric, who will be totally dependent on me and can't live without me."
"Surgery? Eric? You're insane! You can't do that to me! That's madness! Let me
go and I'll forget that this ever happened! Please let me go...", I cried
desperately.
"Of course I can. You'll soon see for yourself. And saying that I'm insane
isn't nice. I'll hold you accountable for that, Eric.", he replied and then
emptied a syringe with a transparent liquid into my arm.
After that everything went black again.
Eric is born
============
When I awoke the next time I felt even worse than before. I didn't know where
I was and my whole body was in pain. Every single nerve in my body seemed to
be on fire. Fortunately it didn't take me long to pass out again. I didn't
care what happened to me, I just didn't want to feel this pain any more.
One day I awoke and the pain was gone. I didn't pass out again, but I was
totally disoriented. I didn't know where I was or what had happened to me.
"Good morning, Eric!", I heard a voice say.
The voice sounded vaguely familiar, but who the hell was Eric? I slowly opened
my eyes and looked directly into his face.
I promptly remembered. This was the madman! He wanted to turn me into his call
boy!
"Don't you want to say Hello?", he asked.
I had to get out of here, away from this mad house! I tried to move my arms,
but I was still restrained. Desperately I tried to get free, but it was
futile. The restraints held me back relentlessly.
"What did...", I said and then fell silent totally befuddled.
I cleared my throat and tried again.
"What did you...", I tried again, but the result was the same.
Once again I cleared my throat. Then I noticed a slight grin in his face.
"What did you do to me? What did you do to my voice?", I shouted at him.
The voice I heard was completely unlike mine. The pitch was way too high. Just
like the breaking of voice hadn't happened! And my mouth felt strange.
Something was missing. In panic I felt my jaws with the tongue. I didn't have
teeth any more! Not a single one! What had this madman done to me?
"So you won't say hello to me, will you? That's not very nice. Quite impolite,
I think. I think I'll have to punish you for that.", he said with a slight
grin.
"What have you done to my teeth? Let me go immediately!", I demanded with my
still very unfamiliar and high pitched voice.
"Well, little boys like you loose their baby teeth at your age. Obviously the
adult teeth grow very slowly in your case. You've lost all your baby teeth but
the other ones haven't grown yet.", he explained.
"Baby teeth? You're insane! I'm an adult!", I yelled.
"Very funny. Your voice hasn't broken yet and you think you're an adult? I
doubt that an eleven year old is an adult. And I doubt that you'll ever grow
up.", he said.
"Breaking of the voice? Eleven years old? What's all this shit? What have you
done to me?", I cried and jerked at the restraints.
"Watch your mouth, little one! Or I'll put you over my knee!", he threatened.
"Fuck off! Let me go! NOW! Asshole!", I shouted.
"THAT'S ENOUGH! You won't call me that again!", he shouted back agitated and
slapped me in the face four times.
"UNDERSTOOD?"
I was completely taken aback from the slaps. They were quite fierce and
painful. My cheeks became hot immediately and I began to cry from the shock.
"What do you want from me? Let me go!", I howled.
"Do you understand, I asked!", he said instead and slapped me again twice.
"Yes!", I cried.
"Yes, Daddy!", he explained and held up his hand threateningly.
"Yes, Daddy!", I cried desperately.
"Good. But don't think that I'm done with you. The proper punishment is still
to come. But now let's see how the wounds have healed.", he said to my sheer
horror.
"Wounds?", I asked scared.
"Yes. I think I told you that I wanted to turn you into my toy boy. That's
exactly what I did, and I have to admit that I did a superb job with your
face. Just perfect. There's no cuter eleven year old than you. Do you want to
take a look yourself?", he asked.
"My face? What...", I said, but he ignored me and disappeared behind my bed.
When he came back he held a mirror in his hand.
"Ready?"
I honestly didn't know if I was ready, but I nodded anyway. Then he turned the
mirror around. I yelped. That couldn't be my face. Never! I barely recognized
myself! My nose was smaller, my cheeks bigger, my skin smooth like a baby's
bottom and totally hairless. I looked at least ten years younger. Just like a
little boy! And the missing incisors greatly amplified this impression.
"What did you do to my face? I look like a ten year old!", I yelled.
"Wonderful, isn't it? It wasn't easy, but from now on you'll look like this
forever. I've injected silicon into your cheeks to make them look fuller. I
also took the liberty to reduce your nose a little and remove your beard. From
now on you don't need to shave any more. Isn't that nice? And I chiseled your
chin a little to make your face rounder. Quite impressive how you can change a
face with a little surgery.", he explained.
"Forever? What the hell does that mean?", I asked scared.
"It means what it means. Forever. Even in five years you won't look one day
older. After I worked on your face I tightened your skin a little and
administered a a special ointment. This ointment prevents the skin from
changing. I guess you could say that I kind of impregnated you.", he said.
"You can't do that to me! Undo it! NOW! I want my old face back! I'm eighteen
years old. I'm not a child any more!", I sniveled.
"Look at you and tell me that this is not the face of an eleven year old. Like
everything I did to you this can't be undone. I fear you're stuck with this
face for the remainder of your life. I don't care if you get used to it. It's
your choice. But you'll look like this forever."
"Please tell me that I'm dreaming! You're mad!", I cried.
"That's another ten blows on your sweet, smooth behind. I hope you'll learn
fast, otherwise it'll be quite painful for you. You have to learn a lot,
anyway. You'll see. But now let's take a look at your hands.", he explained.
Then he removed the sheet a little until my hands appeared. I could only see
the back of my hands, but I knew immediately that he had done something
terrible to my hands.
"I'll loose the restraints now. Behave or you won't be able to sit any more
today. UNDERSTOOD?", he said threateningly.
"Yes."
And then he slapped me in the face again.
"Didn't I tell you to call me Daddy?", he said.
"Yes, Daddy!", I cried.
Then he loosened the restraints and lifted my hand so I could see it. The hand
looked quite strange. I could only see the first segment of my fingers, and
the gap between the fingers was gone. There was skin and a barely visible scar
where the gap should have been.
I stretched my fingers but the other parts of the fingers didn't appear. I
also couldn't see my thumb. I tried to move it, but despite my efforts the
thumb didn't appear.
"Good. It healed very nicely.", he murmured.
Then he turned my hand so I could see the inside of it. Now I saw the full
extend of his work. He amputated the missing segments of my fingers and my
thumb! And he sewed the remainder of the fingers together! Like this my hands
were utterly useless! He could have removed them completely, it would have
been the same.
"What have you done to my hand? It is totally useless like this, asshole!", I
yelled.
He slapped me again.
"You're foul-mouthed again. I won't tolerate that. Understand this: either you
stop that or you'll be in a lot of pain soon. And don't be surprised when the
other hand looks exactly like this.", he said and showed me the other hand,
equally mutilated.
"Why did you do that? How could you do this to me?", I howled.
"I already told you: I want my boys totally helpless and dependent on me. With
hands like this you are helpless. You won't be able to do anything on your
own. I doubt you'll be able to even open a door with them. Maybe you can hold
big things like a baby bottle with both your hands, but that's about it. This
way you'll be totally dependent on me.", he said.
In shock I stared at the totally useless stumps at the end of my arms. It took
me some time to realize that he was absolutely right! With those hands I
wouldn't even be able to hold knife and fork properly, let alone feed myself!
When this sank in I began to cry like a little boy.
He tried to comfort me but it didn't work. I couldn't stop crying. When he
realized that all his efforts were futile he slapped me in the face again.
"Now stop crying, for god's sake! I'm not finished!", he said harshly.
"Not finished?" I whined.
"The best is yet to come. I also took the freedom to work on your crotch a
little.", he said much to my horror.
"Crotch? What have you done to me?", I asked with a trembling voice.
"Though your dick wasn't very big in the first place, it was still too big for
a little boy like you. I had to size it down a little.", he explained and
removed the sheet even further.
"What does that mean?", I asked scared.
"Take a look for yourself!", he said and pointed to my crotch.
Hesitantly I looked down at myself. Actually I didn't know if I wanted to see
what he had done to me down there. But eventually I had to deal with it. Maybe
better now than later.
I screeched when when I saw my crotch. My former proud dick was now a 2" small
stub and I could barely recognize my balls and sac!
"What have you done!", I cried.
"As I said, your former dick was too big for an eleven year old boy like you.
I have removed the spongy body of your penis and replaced it with some fatty
tissue. With this procedure I could reduce your prick to 2" in length and a
mere 0.75" in diameter. At first I thought your balls were way out of
proportion and I thought about implanting them into your abdomen and replace
them with rubber balls, but I discarded that thought. With your balls still in
the sac I'll have much more fun with you. Isn't it beautiful?, he explained.
"Beautiful? Beautiful? This tiny thing is useless! Even my thumb is bigger
than this! And you've circumcised me!", I screeched.
"Now don't make such a fuss from that. Don't tell me that you've really made a
woman happy with your former dick. Because it can only be a lie. And I don't
want you lying to me. It wasn't that impressive, really. This one fits you
much better, believe me.", he sneered and began to play with my little stub.
"Don't touch me there!", I cried.
"I'll touch you where I want when I want to. Just try to understand that
you're my little boy now and that there's no turning back. You're totally
dependent on me and totally at my mercy. There simply is no way out.", he
stated.
"I'm not your little boy. I'm a grown up man! Let me go now!", I demanded
sullenly.
"You're telling me that you're a grown up man? Take a look at you! You look
like a little boy in your face and in your crotch. You even sound like a
little boy. You're utterly dependent on adults, you can't even dress yourself!
I don't really care if you accept your fate or not. From now on you are my
little Eric. Forever.", he said coldly.
I still couldn't believe it, but I had to admit to myself that he was totally
right. I definitely looked like a little boy, and I sure as hell sounded like
one. And with my mutilated hands I was even more helpless than a real eleven
year old boy. I was totally dependent on him or any other adult. Totally
devastated I began to cry like a baby.
"Stop crying or I'll have to punish you.", he said menacingly and held up his
hand.
After I calmed down a little he began to play with my prick again. He
stimulated my penis with his thumb and his index finger and tickled my now
exposed head. Though I wasn't gay and felt disgusted when another man touched
my dick, it was somewhat pleasant in a strange way this time. I waited to feel
an erection coming, but it didn't come. It didn't matter how gently he teased
the underside of my penis or caressed my balls, my dick didn't get hard!
"How does that feel?", he asked.
"Very nice, but why don't I get an erection?", I asked hesitantly.
I knew that I wouldn't like the answer.
"Little boys like you use their pee-pee only for, well, peeing. Since I
removed all of the spongy tissue there's nothing left for getting hard. I'm
afraid that you'll never have an orgasm again. But on the other hand that's
not really a problem since your only purpose is to please me. And I'm sure as
hell that you're up to that job.", he explained.
"What the heck does that mean? I can't cum any more?", I asked desperately.
"It means what it means: You'll never again experience an orgasm, you'll never
again cum or jerk off, call it what you want. It doesn't matter how horny you
are, your tiny little dick will never grow and become hard. And one other
thing: since I left your balls intact you'll be quite horny very soon. Maybe,
just maybe, and only if you're very lucky, you may get off when I fuck you in
the ass. There is a chance that this will stimulate your prostate and you'll
get off. But I wouldn't count on that.", he explained.
"Fuck me in the ass? That's never, ever going to happen!", I dared to object.
"Never say never! That's exactly why I worked on your cute little butt.", he
said.
"You worked on my butt? What have you done to me?", I asked with a trembling
voice.
"I made it a little rounder to make it look even more seductively. But the
real piece of art is your nice fuck-hole. You see, it's no secret that you'll
loosen up over time the more I fuck you. But I like it tight. I intend to have
fun with you for a long time. So I devised a way to prevent your asshole from
getting loose.", he explained.
"What... what did you do to me?", I asked really scared now.
"Well, first I stretched it as far as I could without completely destroying
it. I didn't want you to feel nothing when I'm inside you. Then I implanted a
ring consisting of a special material into your anus. This ring is connected
to a little battery that I also implanted into you. With a remote control I
can activate it. When I do that, two things are going to happen: Your asshole
is being stimulated so that it contracts. Second, the ring itself contracts
and makes your nice asshole tighter. The ring itself is flexible so it can
widen again, even when it's powered up.", he said.
I didn't understand a thing. I only knew that he was totally insane.
"What does that mean?", I asked.
"It means that your asshole will always be quite tight when I activate the
ring. I can control it with this. Can you feel it?", he asked and pressed a
button on the remote.
When he pressed the button I noticed how my sphincter contracted. It wasn't
painful, but I startled and yelped in shock. I tried to relax my sphincter but
I wasn't in control any more. It stayed contracted, no matter how hard I tried
to relax.
"Yes!", I squealed.
"I have to say, I'm kinda proud of this solution. There's only one catch: When
the ring is not active, your fuck-hole is nearly useless, since I had to
stretch it quite a lot for this procedure. Then I could fist you with both my
hands and you wouldn't notice a thing. That means that you are incontinent
when the the ring isn't active. And unfortunately I can't activate the ring
permanently, because that would drain the batteries very fast.
"Incontinent? What the heck does that mean?", I asked scared.
"It means that from now on you're in diapers 24/7"
"Diapers? You've got to be kidding! I don't need diapers", I cried.
This had to be a very bad joke. I was an adult man, for god's sake! I didn't
need diapers!
"Believe me, you'll need diapers from now on. Otherwise you'd mess your pants
in no time when you have to poop. I doubt that your stretched sphincter can
hold it back for more than half a minute. And that isn't much, I guess.
"You're lying! Tell me that it isn't true! I don't need diapers!", I whined
desperately.
I seriously doubted that he was lying, because until now everything he said
turned out to be true. But the thought that I had to actually use diapers
again made me sick. I simply couldn't accept that. That simply couldn't be
true.
"I never lie. Maybe we should talk about this again when you have messed your
pants in public for the first time. I don't have a problem to try without. It
will be a sight for the gods when we walk the pedestrian zone and you wet
yourself shortly before you mess your pants. That shouldn't happen to an
eleven year old boy. You'd be a great attraction, I think.", he explained.
"Why should I pee myself?", I asked frightened.
"Well, I've thought long about that one. But since you'll have to wear diapers
anyway, I decided to disable your bladder also. So you don't need to think
about when and where to use your diapers. It will simply happen. You won't be
able to control it. And it's a permanent reminder that you're now my little
boy. And as a matter of fact little boys like you can't control themselves
very good. I have to admit that you're an extreme case, but I can't change
that any more, can I?"
"You turned me into an eleven year old boy who needs to wear diapers? You
don't really mean that, do you?", I cried.
"I mean every word I said. I already told you that I like it when my little
boys are totally dependent on me. And if you can't even control yourself,
you're even more dependent on me. I don't have a problem with changing dirty
diapers. It's a great way to humiliate you.", he explained.
That couldn't be real! Me in diapers? Never! But on the other hand he was
right. Diapers were better than to mess one's pants. Part of me still hoped
that he was just kidding, as a means to frighten me. But the other part knew
that it was real.
"And now the last change. I've reduced your body height to make your look even
more boyish.", he said and removed the sheet completely.
I recognized scars above both knees.
"It wasn't easy, but it worked. I removed parts of your thighs and your lower
legs. The results are quite promising. I reduced your height to about 4'11".
And the proportions still match. That's just the right height for an eleven
year old boy."
I was stunned. Slowly I realized that he wasn't kidding when he said that I
would be his toy-boy. This man was insane. Plain and simple. But by now I had
learned that it was painful at best to call him names. But I'd get my chance
to escape from this madhouse. Right now I had to play his game. I didn't say a
word and dazedly stared at my knees instead.
"Oh, and I almost forgot: I administered an unique drug while you were asleep.
It atrophies your muscles to assure that you're only as strong as an eleven
year old boy. Unfortunately, it has a little side effect: It also prevents
your body from rebuilding your muscles. Plain-text: Your muscles won't grow
back. Right now you're as strong as an eleven year old boy and it'll stay this
way for the rest of your life. So don't even think about hitting me. I'd be
quite disappointed, but other than that nothing will happen. You won't hurt me
physically, that's for sure. Maybe you're still strong enough to let me feel
the blow, but only maybe. You definitely won't be able to do me any harm.
Well, I'll be gracious. To resolve all doubt I'll allow you to hit me."
He didn't have to say that twice. Meanwhile I hated him so much for what he'd
done to me that I wanted to beat the shit out of him. I tried to make a fist
with my right hand but even that didn't work any more. I tried the best I
could. Then I hit his stomach with all my strength, but nothing happened! My
hand seemed to bounce, and he began to laugh hard.
"Ouch!", he mocked.
In fact he didn't move one inch or even grimaced at least a little. I was as
weak as a little boy!
"See, you can't hurt me any more. With this issue out of the way, I can tell
you about the other side effect of the drug. It also tricked your body into
degrading your bones a little. So now your bone structure also is that of an
eleven year old boy. Additionally I put you onto a quite extreme diet during
your sleep. The bottom line is that you now look like a real little boy. Your
bones won't grow back like your muscles won't. And you won't be able to gain
any more. This drug was designed to help adipose people to reduce their
weight, but the side effects were to severe. So they abandoned it. But for my
purposes it was perfect. Really nice what modern medicine can accomplish.
I had to hold myself back not to call him names, but I managed.
"Now, do you want to take a look at your new self?", he asked.
I hesitated, but there was no reason to delay the inevitable. So I nodded.
"OK, then you may get up, but be careful.", he said.
I moved my legs over the edge of the bed and got up. My knees were a little
shaky but I managed to stand.
"Follow me.", he ordered and grabbed my hand.
He led me to a big mirror. For the first time I could see me in full. I didn't
believe my eyes. That couldn't be me looking back from the mirror! I really
looked like a little boy! It wasn't just my face that looked boyish, my whole
body was that of a little boy! He had turned me into his toy boy for real! He
really did it! I couldn't believe it, but the mirror didn't lie. I cried
again.
"See, your totally my little boy now. Just perfect for my needs. I'm sure
we'll have much fun together.", he cheered.
"Meaning YOU will have fun with ME. You ruined my life!", I howled.
"Now stop crying. I can't stand it any longer. I think I seriously have to
sort that out. NOW! A thorough spanking will do it. I won't tolerate your
whining any more!", he said agitated.
Learning by pain
================
Without effort he picked me up. It seemed my weight was down to nothing. I'd
guess that I only was about 88 lbs now. He carried me to a chair, sat down and
put me over his knee.
"Stop it! Let me go!", I cried but he ignored me.
I tried to resist with all strength I had left but it was futile. I was way
too weak and he easily fended off my attempts to get free.
I felt his hand hitting my butt. I heard a sound and immediately felt a
stinging pain on my butt.
This couldn't be real! He was spanking me and I couldn't do anything about it!
What else did I have to endure in this madhouse?
"Stop it! Please stop it! You can't do that to me!", I cried desperately.
"Don't you see that I can? I'll teach you manners, for sure.", he grunted.
I took the second and third hit, but when he hit me the fourth time I began to
cry. When he reached twenty he had enough. I was crying like a baby then.
"That was the first part. Now let's get to the second.", he said much to my
horror.
Then he hit the other cheek with all his strength. I had to endure twenty more
blows there. When he was finished with me I was a sobbing wreck. Tears
streamed down my face in torrents.
"You know, your butt has a nice dark red color now. It's a shame I have to put
it into nice tender diapers. But then, it shouldn't take long to get hot in
there. And when you pee yourself for the first time, I hope it'll start to
burn quite nicely. I think you'll enjoy this feeling for some time. You do
have learned your lesson not to contradict me, don't you?", he asked.
"Yes, Daddy!", I sobbed.
"Good. Then let's dress you appropriately. I've decorated your nursery while
you were asleep. I hope you like it. I tried really hard.", he said.
"Definitely, Daddy!", I sobbed.
"Good, then open the door!", he ordered.
The door had a big knob to turn. Since I was used to it I grabbed the knob
with my right hand and tried to turn it. But that didn't work. I couldn't even
grasp the knob with my mutilated hand. The knob slipped out of my hand every
time. Without a thumb and with these short fingers I wasn't able to get a
proper hold of the knob. I took my other hand to help, but even that didn't
help. The knob still eluded me. Also it seemed to be quite rough-running.
"Daddy, it's stuck!", I cried.
"Let me see, darling. I really doubt so.", he said, grabbed the knob and
opened the door.
"You see? The door isn't stuck. It seems you're too weak to turn the knob with
your tiny hands. The problem is that you can't really get a hold of it. Now,
can you see how dependent you are on me? You can't even open a door for
yourself! I'm afraid that all doors in here have such knobs.", he explained.
I really had to control myself not to cry again. This simply couldn't be true!
It seemed that right now he could confine me by just closing an ordinary door
with a knob! It couldn't be that an unlocked door with a knob was an
insurmountable obstacle for me! Again I felt tears welling up, but I managed
to suppress this feeling of utter helplessness and desperation.
"Turn left! The nursery is that way.", he ordered and hit me on my still quite
sore bottom.
"Ouch!", I cried.
We went through an endless, wide hallway until he stopped at a door with a
light blue sign saying 'Eric's nursery' on it.
"Do you want to give the door another try?", he asked with a big grin in his
face.
This door also had a big round knob also. The door opened to the inside and
had a heavy door closer at the top. I still couldn't believe that I wasn't
able to open a simple door any more, so I tried again.
"Yes, Daddy.", I replied.
Once again I tried to turn the knob with both my hands, and once again I
couldn't grasp it properly. It slid out of my hands every time. After a while
I gave up frustrated.
"It doesn't work!", I whined.
"Let me help.", he said and then opened the door easily.
"This is your new room.", he said and showed me in.
I went into the room and looked around. He had to be kidding me! Everything in
that room was in some shade of light blue. The wallpaper was light blue and
decorated with little teddy bears. The carpet was slightly darker and also
decorated with those teddy bears. The ceiling had the same color as the
carpet. On the left side of the room was a large play area with lots of toys.
There was a large wooden rocking horse, a box with large LEGO bricks and some
wooden bricks. He also provided me with some storybooks printed on thick
cardboard.
Right opposite to the door was a large window. And even the window had a knob
like the doors. Also, my new room was obviously located in one of the upper
floors of the house. I wouldn't be able to escape from this madhouse through
the window.
On the right side of the room, directly alongside the window, was a large crib
surrounded with bars. The bed also was light blue.
Right beside the bed was a large closet. And lastly, there was the changing
table with a diaper pail beneath it. Above the changing table were shelves
with cremes, lotions, paper cloths, rubber pants with playful imprints and
lots of diapers on it.
When I saw the diapers I painfully remembered that I was supposed to use them.
"To the left is your playground. So you won't get bored too fast when you're
on your own. I have to earn some money occasionally.", he explained.
"You want me to play with bricks?", I asked trying not to sound reproachful. I
didn't want to risk another spanking.
"Of course. I know that eleven year old boys would rather play with computers,
but I had to compromise here and there. To be honest, I doubt that you'll be
able to operate a computer with those hands. And you won't be able to play
with anything more filigree than these bricks. I had to find something you can
grasp and play with. And in the end there were only those bricks left.", he
explained.
He was right. I wouldn't be able to hold or grasp anything smaller than these
bricks. And to type on a computer keyboard would be outright impossible.
"Yes, Daddy.", I said obediently.
"You'll sleep in my bed most of the time, so I can cuddle with you. Then you
can also give me a blow job when I wake up. But just in case I don't want you
in my bed you have your own.", he said.
I cringed when he mentioned that he intended to share his bed with me, let
alone cuddle with me. I wasn't gay. The mere thought of touching another man
intimately made me sick. I was a perfectly normal heterosexual man, for gods
sake! And this madman didn't only want to cuddle with me. He already said that
he wanted to fuck me. God knows what other things he had in mind. But I
managed to suppress this disgusting thought for the moment. I'd cross that
bridge when I came to it.
"Now it's time to dress.", he said and picked me up.
Then he put me onto the changing table, and he wasn't very careful. I felt a
quite intense stinging pain on my still very sore bottom and yelped. When the
pain slowly faded I relished the coldness of the rubber sheet.
"Lay down.", he ordered and took a diaper from the shelf.
I laid down on my back and stared at him in disbelief. I still hoped that he
was joking about diapering me.
"Angle your legs and lift your cute ass. You do still know how this works,
don't you?", he teased.
I lifted my butt and he put the diaper underneath my behind.
"And down again."
I put my butt down again and he secured the diaper around my crotch.
"Now, that wasn't that bad, was it?", he consoled me.
Then he put me onto my feet again. Being diapered wasn't that bad at all,
there he was right. The problem was that he made me wear a diaper in the first
place and that he expected me to actually use it! And there was this
treacherous crackling noise I heard with every move I made. Also the diaper
was quite enormous. I could hardly bring my knees together any more.
Then he took a pair of plastic pants from the shelf and held them down in
front of me so I could step into them.
"Feet in here!", he ordered.
I stepped into the plastic pants and he pulled them over my diaper. They were
wide enough to fit over the big diaper without a problem.
"Nice. Now you're safe. Now an accident won't be such a big deal any more. And
believe me, you'll have an accident sooner or later.", he grinned.
I could barely hold the tears back when he fetched a T-Shirt from the closet.
It was white and had this ubiquitous teddy bear on the sleeves. After he had
pulled the T-Shirt over my head he took a pair of short-alls from the closet.
They also had a picture of a teddy bear embroidered on the front side. He
pulled them up my legs and buttoned up the suspenders on my back. Then he put
me onto the changing table again.
Because of the padding from the diaper it didn't hurt that much this time.
Instead it became hotter and hotter inside the diaper. And that wasn't very
pleasant either.
Lastly he fitted me with white socks and and blue plastic sandals.
"Finished. Wonderful! You truly look like a little boy now. Care to take a
look?", he asked and took me from the changing table.
I went to the closet and examined myself in the mirror. Once again I barely
recognized myself. Dressed like this I looked even more boyish than naked. I
almost completely looked like an eleven year old boy. Only the thick diaper
ruined this impression. The short-alls did a really bad job hiding this
hideous piece of garment. I had a huge bulge in my crotch and I heard them
crackling with every move I made.
"And, do you like it?", he asked.
To be honest, I thought I looked quite silly but right now I had to play his
game.
"Yes, Daddy, I like it.", I replied dumbly.
"I'm glad to hear that. Then it's time for breakfast now.", he said.
He took my hand and led me out into the hallway. It seemed to be endless but
after a while we arrived at a huge staircase. We went down two floors and
finally arrived in a large kitchen. I had been right before. My room was
located in one of the upper floors, so no chance to escape through the window.
"Sit down and be a good boy while I prepare breakfast.", he ordered.
I sat down on a chair very, very carefully, but it didn't help much. My sore
bottom didn't like the weight it had to carry and reacted with stinging pain.
I yelped, and he seemed to enjoy it. I could see a short grin on his face when
I cried out.
He made bacon and eggs. When the delicious smell entered my nostrils I
realized how hungry I was.
"I bet you're nearly starving. You haven't had something real to eat for quite
some time now.", he explained.
"Yes, Daddy. I am.", I said eagerly while he set the table with all this
deliciously smelling food.
"Just a minute and I'll have yours fixed, too.", he then said.
"Mine? Don't I get eggs and bacon?", I asked dumbfounded.
He laughed shortly.
"Don't be silly. Well, you can have your share if you tell me how you intend
to chew it without teeth. Well? Thought so. I'm afraid you'll have to put up
with some mush then."
He was right again. I had totally forgotten that he plucked out all my teeth.
I watched how he cut apples, plums and bananas into pieces. Then he put them
all together into a blender and added some milk. Then he turned it on until
everything was a thick, light colored mush. He put it into bowl and placed it
in front of me.
"But your's smells so good and I'm really hungry.", I dared to complain.
"Maybe. But since you couldn't tell me how to chew it the only thing you'll
get is this mush. End of discussion.", he said sharply and then put a bib
around my neck.
I almost complained about the bib also but then I remembered what would happen
if I provoked him too much. So I shut my mouth and endured that humiliation. I
didn't want to be spanked twice a day.
Then he put a big class of milk in front of me and gave me a plastic spoon.
"Enjoy your meal!", he said and then devoured his breakfast.
"You, too, Daddy."
Out of habit I tried to grasp the glass of milk with one hand, but I couldn't
get hold of it. It slipped out of my hand immediately. Without a thumb it's
nearly impossible to properly grab almost anything. With both my hands I
managed to bring the glass to my mouth. It seemed to be quite heavy, though.
After I eagerly emptied half of the glass I tried to pick up the spoon. And
this also was way more difficult than it sounds.
I tried to get my fingers beneath the spoon but they where too short and
unshaped for that. I only managed to push the spoon around on the table. In
pure desperation I put one hand at the edge of the table and pushed the spoon
onto my palm with the other one. Then I found out that I couldn't grab the
spoon this way. My fingers were to short for that. The spoon fell to the
ground.
When I looked up I realized that Daddy watched me closely all the time. He
obviously liked my total helplessness. He was grinning quite broadly.
I felt like crying. I wasn't even able to feed myself!
"Daddy, it doesn't work...", I wailed.
"Let me help. You are really quite helpless. Totally dependent on Daddy's
help, aren't you?", he grinned and picked up the spoon.
Then he fed me until the bowl was empty. The mush didn't taste as bad as it
looked, but it wasn't really good, also. It was bearable at best. After
emptying that bowl I felt totally bloated. One more spoonful and I would've
vomited.
"Now finish your milk.", he ordered.
I really had to concentrate not to throw up while drinking the milk. I was
totally full. After that my stomach gurgled angrily and I felt sick.
"I'm afraid you're on your own this morning. I have to take care of some
things. But you'll have lots of fun with all your new toys, won't you?", he
explained.
I didn't mind. I could try to find a way out of this madhouse when I was
finally alone. It didn't look good. It seemed he thought of everything. But
then, nobody is perfect. There had to be a way.
He took my hand and brought me into my room.
"Have fun!", I heard him say before the door closed.
Finally alone
=============
I immediately walked to the window and took a look outside. I was on the
second floor and looked over a huge park. His estate was apparently quite
isolated. I also assumed that it was surrounded by a fence or a wall, though I
couldn't see it. Even if I managed to open the window I couldn't escape. The
way to the ground was too far and I was quite sure that I wouldn't be able to
climb properly with my mutilated hands.
That left only the door. I didn't hear him locking it, but it seemed that
there was no need. I wasn't able to operate the knob and open the door. He
made sure of that.
Despite my former experience I tried again. I still didn't believe that he
could trap me with a simple unlocked door. That couldn't be true! Desperately
I tried to grab the knob and turn it around, but it always slipped out of my
hands. I wasn't able to turn it even one inch. I began to cry again from
frustration and desperation. After a while I gave up. My hands were utterly
useless.
I definitely couldn't escape from my room. So I had to take my chances with
him and wait patiently until he eventually made a mistake.
Frustrated and exhausted I sat down on the rocking horse. That turned out to
be a really bad idea. My sore bottom reported back and reacted with a sharp,
stinging pain. I immediately jumped up again and sat down on the floor
carefully after the pain faded.
I put my hands into my face and began to cry desperately. This had to be a bad
dream! He couldn't do that to me, could he? I was an eighteen year old man and
no little boy, for heaven's sake. But in reality he could stop me with an
unlocked door. I was so utterly helpless that I couldn't hold a spoon! I
couldn't even feed myself any more! How could he do that to me?
While I cried like a baby I tried to convince myself that this was all a very
bad dream. There had to be a way to make me wake up. Once awake I would be my
old self again. How could I wake myself up? Pain! That's it. The pain had to
be intense enough and I'd wake up. It wasn't easy but I managed to pick up one
of the bigger wooden bricks. I almost hit my head with the brick. But then I
realized the I had already felt a great deal of pain today. Daddy spanked me
really hard and I didn't wake up!
And that pain was real. I could still feel the aftermath. Whenever I put too
much pressure onto my sore bottom the pain increased. Maybe this wasn't a
dream at all? But on the other hand my predicament couldn't be real, could it?
Perhaps it helped to look at me in the mirror again, I thought. Then I would
truly realize how silly I looked in this strange dream and wake up laughing.
I got up again and looked at myself in the mirror again. What seemed to be a
good plan turned out to be a horrible one. The problem was that I didn't look
silly or ridiculous at all. My image in the mirror looked like an ordinary
eleven or twelve year old boy. Maybe his dress was a little too boyish for his
age, but that was about it. There was no trace left of the grown up man
actually living in that body. The boy in the mirror had the same small frame
you'd expect from an eleven year old. And also his face showed no traits of an
adult man. It was round and hairless like that of a little boy. It didn't even
show the beginnings of a beard.
And the worst part was that this little boy moved when I moved. Slowly, very
slowly I began to realize that this wasn't a dream. That it was in fact real.
This little boy in the mirror was me!
"No, No, NOOOOOOOOOOOOO! I don't want to be a little boy!", I cried, growing
louder and louder.
But even my voice betrayed me. It sounded quite unlike that of a grown up man
and totally like that of a little boy. It was bright and high pitched, like
his voice hadn't broken yet.
He really did it! He had turned me into his little boy!
Desperately I looked at my hands again. They were utterly useless. Maybe I
should try something easier. Though I wasn't able to dress myself, maybe I
could at least undress on my own.
First the short-alls. The suspenders were buttoned up at the back. I turned
around a little so I could see the buttons in the mirror. Each suspender had
two buttonholes. I only needed to get the buttons through the buttonholes.
That sounded easy enough, but it proved to be much more difficult. Out of
habit I tried to open the button with one hand. But without a thumb I couldn't
even grab that small thing. Then I tried with both hands, but I didn't manage
to open even one single button! I tried over and over again, but after a while
I realized that those mutilated hands were the wrong tool for such a filigree
task.
"AAAAAAAARGH!", I cried desperately.
Frustrated as I was I slid both my hands under the suspenders and pulled at
them with all my strength. I tried to tear off the buttons. But even that
didn't work. It seemed that I was too weak for that! It didn't matter how hard
I tried, the buttons wouldn't come loose!
"AAAAAAAAARGH!", I cried again with my high pitched voice.
What had this madman done to me? I was weaker than a baby!
I became more and more agitated. I ran over to the bricks and picked one up. I
wanted to throw it against the wall. But at first it slipped out of my hands
and fell down on the floor again. Then I picked it up with both hands and
hurled it against the wall. But the brick never hit the wall. I wasn't strong
enough to throw a small wooden brick 10'! The brick fell down 1.5' before the
wall.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!", I cried and sat down on the floor again.
Totally frustrated I kicked the bricks with my feet but even that didn't move
them much.
Then I began to cry again. Meanwhile it had sunken in that I was now totally
helpless and dependent on him. I was completely at his mercy.
It took some time to calm down again. Then I got bored quite fast and I toyed
around with the bricks a little. Though that wasn't as easy as it sounds it
became dull quite fast. And it was totally humiliating. A grown up man playing
with bricks!
After that I played with the Lego stuff for some time. But after a while that
was utterly frustrating, also. I tried to assemble a house, but it was quite
difficult to undo a brick again once it was set. That took all my strength and
remaining skills.
It didn't take long until I was totally bored again. I picked up a picture
book. It was Cinderella.
I tried to turn the first page, but that proved to be difficult, also. Despite
being printed on thick cardboard it took several attempts to grasp the first
page. It slipped out of my hands again and again, but after a while I
succeeded.
It was a real storybook. There was some text on each page but it wasn't really
necessary to understand the story. While thumbing through that book I noticed
that I had to go to the bathroom soon.
Suddenly I remembered that I was wearing diapers now. I totally forgot about
that during my useless attempts to use my hands for something serious.
I swore myself not to let this happen. Never ever I would actually use the
diaper! I seriously doubted that he'd let me use the toilet, but maybe I would
get the chance to pee at him once he changed my diapers.
I held it back but only some seconds later the need to go increased. I was
still able to hold it back but I was surprised about how fast the urge got
stronger. Some more seconds it was excruciating. I endured it for some more
seconds but then I lost control. The urge was so strong that I couldn't hold
it back any more. First I felt a little pee dripping into my diaper. Meanwhile
it was really painful. Then I totally lost control. Though I didn't want to
and tried everything to hold it back I peed into the diaper. I felt how I
flooded it slowly at first, and then the gates opened completely. I
desperately tried to hold it back but my body didn't obey me. It didn't stop
until my bladder was empty!
And I could absolutely nothing against it! I felt how the pee spread further
into the diaper. Helplessly I noticed how the heat increased at the front side
and then spread to the back. When it reached my sore bottom the pain got
stronger again. The acid fluid wasn't exactly the best cure for that.
I had given up trying to regain control. It was useless. It was like being a
front-seat passenger in your own body. I couldn't control it any more.
When my bladder was empty and my diaper wet I screamed out desperately and hit
the book with my hands like a little boy having a tantrum. This couldn't be
real! He had really made me incontinent and diaper dependent! I didn't have
control over my body any more! I had just peed my diaper like a baby! Somehow
I managed to pick up the book and threw it against the wall. But it also
didn't make it that far.
That frustrated me even more and I started to cry again. I hit the carpet with
my mutilated hands until they began to hurt seriously. I stopped and sat up
again.
But I still couldn't stop crying. I had never thought that he meant it for
real when he said that I would actually use my diaper! Why the hell did he do
that to me? This was all so utterly humiliating that I could barely find words
for it.
The worst part of it was that I realized with every movement what I had just
done. The wet diaper was even bulkier than the dry one because of the pee.
Every time I moved my legs I felt the wet diaper.
Maybe that was the reason why he did it. Perhaps he wanted to remind me of my
state as a little boy every moment of my life. That was it! I guessed it
wasn't his favorite task to change wet diapers.
Or maybe he had a diaper fetish. But that was rather unlikely.
For some time I sat on the floor trying to devise a way to escape from this
hell. But I couldn't find one, no matter how hard I tried. While I pushed some
bricks around on the floor I suddenly felt another urge. This time I had to
poop!
There was no way I would do number two in them, also, no way in hell! At least
so I thought. I didn't want to sit in my own shit as well! The pee was bad
enough.
I tried to ignore the urge, but it was the same again. It didn't take long for
the need to become stronger and stronger. After only a few seconds I had to
concentrate really hard not to let go. I pressed my butt cheeks together with
all my strength. I could barely move without losing control.
And then it happened. The urge was too strong. Once again I wasn't able to do
anything against it. Again I was only a passenger when I felt myself pooping
the diaper. I felt how the shit pushed into my diapers and spread in my butt
crack and then reached my sac.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!", I cried.
It didn't take long until the whole room was filled with the smell of my shit.
And with every move I made the content of my diaper spread a little further.
Never in my life before had I felt so dirty and disgusted.
And again I began to cry from frustration and desperation. This couldn't be
real. It simply couldn't! It couldn't be fun for him to change dirty diapers,
could it?
After a while the frustration and desperation gave way to incredible anger. He
had absolutely no right to do that to me! I got up, ran to the door and hit it
with my hands.
"LET ME GO NOW, ASSHOLE! I'LL NEVER BE YOUR TOY BOY, YOU DISGUSTING PERVERT!",
i cried.
I couldn't stop myself from hitting the door. But it didn't matter. The door
didn't gave in. Only my hands began to hurt.
After a while I sat down on the floor again, totally exhausted. Again I felt
how the mess in my diaper shifted around. This feeling was so utterly
humiliating and disgusting! I'd never get used to that. This couldn't be real,
it simply couldn't.
But unfortunately it was quite real. He had me where he wanted me to be.
Totally at his mercy. How did that happen? I just wanted to have fun with some
friends and now I was the toy boy of a insane madman.
Again I sat in front of my bricks and tried to think of a way to escape, and
again I couldn't think of anything.
Eric gets to work
=================
After what seemed to be an eternity the door opened and Daddy returned.
"Hello Eric, I'm back! Oops, it seems you had an accident, hadn't you?", he
said and wrinkled his nose.
Nevertheless he was grinning broadly.
"Yes, and I couldn't control it! Change me immediately! This is utterly
disgusting!", I cried.
"Well, you'll have to get used to that, I'm afraid. But it was necessary.
Otherwise you'd loosen up quite fast and that would diminish my satisfaction
considerably. We can't have that, now can we? And don't forget the little side
effect: you're constantly reminded of your position. You're my little boy
now.", he explained.
"But it's unbelievably disgusting to sit in my own shit! And don't dare to
tell me that you like changing soiled diapers!", I complained.
"Watch your mouth, Eric! Little boys like you say poo instead of shit. Is that
clear?", he dispraised.
"Yes, Daddy. But nonetheless it's disgusting to sit in my own poo.", I sobbed.
"Get used to it. As I said before, you'll have to live with it. And I don't
mind changing dirty diapers. During my time at university studying medicine I
worked in a retirement home. Believe me, I changed many diapers back then. So
I really don't mind.", he said.
"How could you do that to me? Change me immediately! This is disgusting!", I
shouted at him.
"Calm down or you're in for another spanking! While I'm at it: that reminds
me. What did you think when you called me an asshole? For that alone I should
beat the daylight out of you!", he said threateningly.
How did he know that I called him an asshole? Was he watching my room? Where
was the camera?
"Well, another thing you have to get used to. Since you're so helpless and
dependent on me I have to look after you all the time. I don't want you to get
hurt.", he explained while I was searching for the camera.
"Every room in this house has a surveillance camera. As long as you're in this
house I can watch ever step of yours. Anyway, I guess you'd like to be changed
as soon as possible, don't you?", he asked.
"Yes, Daddy, please!", I pleaded.
I couldn't stand I this gross feeling any more. It was so disgusting that I
let go of the last bit of self-respect I had left and begged him to change me.
And that in turn was utterly humiliating. But I couldn't stand sitting in my
own shit any more.
"OK, but before I do something for you I want you to do something for me.", he
returned.
What the heck did that mean? For sure I wouldn't like it at all.
"What do you want me to do?", I asked hesitantly.
"I think I already told you more than once that you are my toy boy now.", he
said and went to the changing table.
Then he pulled down his pants. A giant bulge formed in his underpants. When he
pulled them down, a giant erect penis appeared. He sat down on the changing
table.
I understood immediately.
"Never EVER I'll give you a blow job! Never in HELL! I'm not gay!", I shouted.
"Your choice. I'll change you only after you've given me a blow job. To make
myself clear: First a blow job, and only then you'll get rid of the dirty
diaper. You'll be in that diaper all afternoon if you don't get your mouth to
work. Think twice.", he said coldly.
I didn't know what to do. Of course I wanted to get rid of the dirty diaper.
But for that I had to take the penis of another man into my mouth! Even the
thought of this was more disgusting that sitting in my own shit. Eventually he
would have to change my diaper, regardless of the blow job.
"No, I won't do it. Never in hell I'll take your dick into my mouth!", I said
defiantly.
"As you wish. But I'm really disappointed.", he said while he pulled up his
pants.
"Don't think you'll get away that easily. For one I bet your cute little butt
will be quite sore this evening. And I want you to do it voluntarily. I could
easily force you into giving me a blow job, but I don't like that. That
doesn't please me. I really want you to do it voluntarily. If I don't get that
from you I'll take more drastic steps. I know people who would like to get
their hands on you. I don't know what they will do to you. Maybe they'll force
you to do everything they want. But maybe they won't even let you be little
Eric any more. One guy I know would pay any price for you, of that I'm sure.
But he doesn't like little boys like me. He likes babies. I'm quite sure he
would order some additional procedures before buying you. When he's finished
with you, you won't be able to talk or walk any more. You will only be able to
babble like a baby and to crawl. If he feels like it. There's also the chance
that you won't even be able to crawl any more. Another friend of mine is
talking about getting a little girl to have fun with for some time now. It's
quite easy to turn your nice little pee-pee into a tight little girl's pussy
and make you look more like a little girl. And then there's the free market.
Everything is possible there. I've seen men being turned into living urinals.
And some people like their fuck-holes totally defenseless. Their arms and legs
are removed and they're another cushion in master's bed. Occasionally he
sticks his dick into one of his slave's orifices. It's as simple as this:
Either I get what I want or I'll sell you. The latter really would be a shame,
though. Right now you're a piece of art and it wasn't easy to turn you into
what you now are. I'd hate to destroy that. But I'll do it if you prove to be
useless for me. Anyway, I'll be back this evening. I expect your decision.",
he said and then the door closes behind him again.
I was totally mixed up and sat down on the floor again. That couldn't be true,
or could it? He was making all this stories up. Sex slaves without arms and
legs? Human urinals? Nowhere in hell could this be true. Or could it? Me as a
little girl? That should be possible. I've heard about sex change surgeries
before. And I was quite sure that he could take away my ability to speak
properly. But then, he only wanted to frighten me, or didn't he? There was
still the fact that he turned me into his little boy, though. But could he do
all those things he said?
The whole afternoon I thought about what he had said. Whether he meant what he
said or not. In between I had to use my diaper and there was nothing I could
do about it. When I got up I realized how heavy it had become in the meantime.
It was sagging severely between my legs. I guessed that the plastic pants were
dirty also. I really needed to be changed soon.
The whole afternoon I pondered if it was worth it to take my chances and not
to believe him. Maybe he was just playing with me. But on the other hand, if
he meant business, how bad was it to have another man's dick into my mouth? I
definitely wouldn't die from that. A good part of the world's population did
that on a regular basis. And there was another thing: If he wasn't kidding and
really sold me I'd have to do that anyway. And if he sold me to someone who'd
have my arms and legs removed I wouldn't even have a chance to resist. And
even with my arms and legs I was way too weak for that.
When my bottom began to hurt more and more from getting really sore I decided
to give him his blow job. How bad could it be? Definitely a better choice than
being a living urinal.
He kept me waiting. When he finally entered the room again I was squirming in
pain on the floor.
"Eek, quite a nasty smell in here. Have you made your decision?", he asked
grinningly.
"Yes, Daddy.", I said.
"So tell me. But I have to warn you: I have made some phone calls this
afternoon. If you say no I will make good money with you. I have a potential
buyer. You won't like what I'd have to do to you before, but that won't matter
then.", he said.
"Please stop it. I'll do it.", I whined.
"Very good! I really hoped so!", he cheered and pulled down his pants.
Then he sat down on the changing table again. This time he didn't have a
boner. Obviously he didn't expect me to give in.
I stared at his penis. Even flaccid he was huge. I doubted that he'd fit into
my mouth once he was erect. Very slowly I made my way to the changing table. I
felt totally sick but there was no way out other than to obey him. It was the
right choice to stay with him rather than being sold.
"Well, what are you waiting for?", he asked impatiently.
Secretly I hoped that he would change his mind about this and let me off the
hook. But that was quite unlikely.
And I had no idea what to do. I had never done this before. I doubted that it
was as easy as simply sticking his dick into my mouth. There had to be more to
it. But he'd definitely explain that to me.
I raised his dick with my right hand bent forward a little and took it into my
mouth. Never before I felt such intense humiliation. Nevertheless I advanced
my head until my nose was buried deeply into his crotch hair.
"Oh! Good! Stay there and use your tongue!", he moaned.
His giant cock already went down my throat, even though he wasn't stiff at
all. Still, I obeyed. With my tongue I worked on the underside of his dick.
And he seemed to like then. He got hard immediately. His dick grew in my
mouth. It became longer and wider.
It protruded further into my mouth until I had to choke. I withdrew my head
until only his head was left in my mouth. Then I licked the underside of his
head with my tongue and he began to moan in turn. His dick was totally erected
then.
As I once again took it further into my mouth he grabbed my head and pushed it
forward. I tried to resist, but I was too weak. He pushed my head until my
nose was in his crotch hair again. It smelled disgustingly like sweat and
musk. And his dick war so far down my throat that I had to choke again. But of
course he didn't care.
"Oh! I want to feel your tongue!", he moaned.
I obeyed and played around with his dick for a while. He pulled my head back
after a while. Then he pushed it forward again. First slowly, then faster and
faster.
"Uh, oh! Better than I expected. I want you to swallow everything to the last
drop!", he said.
He was fucking my face! What was I doing? How did I deserve this? I have never
felt so humiliated and embarrassed before.
He had taken control. I could do nothing but work his dick with my tongue.
He kept it up for quite some time and moaned loudly, but then he was ready.
Suddenly he stopped and his dick began to jerk. Immediately I felt a slimy,
salty fluid entering my mouth. It squirted directly at my palatine and I
nearly choked on it.
And then he really got off. I felt his dick jerking in my mouth again and
again, and every time another load of his cum entered my mouth. His loads were
huge. It seemed he had waited a long time for this moment. I couldn't hold up
with him very long. I simply couldn't swallow it all, and it didn't take long
until I felt his cum running down the corners of my mouth.
He moaned loudly and had his fun while I prayed that he'd finish soon. For me
it seemed to be an eternity until his he finally stopped squirting his semen
into my mouth. He remained in that position for some time and relished the
gigantic orgasm. My nose remained in his crotch hair.
"Quite good for the first time. I didn't expect that. It takes some practice,
I know that. But then you'll be my perfect boy toy.", he said satisfied.
Then he released my head, and I finally got rid of his dick. He looked me in
the eyes and gave me a kiss on the forehead.
"You didn't swallow everything. There is some sperm in the corners of your
mouth. But I'm pretty sure you'll learn.", he said with a broad grin on his
face.
"Just swallow that, also, and I'll change your diapers.", he added.
I obeyed. With my tongue I licked his cum from the corners of my mouth and
lifted his half erect dick with one hand. Then I licked the remaining sperm
from his dick.
I was a total wreck at that moment. I felt dirty, humiliated and embarrassed.
I had tears in my eyes. Why did he do that to me? I didn't have done anything
to him. How could he be so cruel?
"I'm quite satisfied with you. It wasn't as bad as I expected for the first
time. With some practice you'll become a perfect boy toy. And now I won't keep
you waiting any longer. I keep my promises. All of them.", he said while he
pulled up his pants.
Then he jumped from the changing table and put me onto it instead.
"Then let's get you changed. The afternoon must've been horrible.", he said
while he undressed me.
"Yes, Daddy. My botty hurts.", I whined.
"You'll have to live with that. As I said: I keep my promises.", he explained.
In the meantime had removed everything except the plastic pants and the
diaper. I was soaking wet. The plastic pants were fogged on the inside. The
diaper couldn't absorb a single drop any more.
"Eek, that's a dirty diaper. I'm glad I put you into plastic pants also,
otherwise the short-alls would be ruined.", he said and showed me the plastic
pants.
It wasn't only fogged on the inside at the front but also brown at the back.
And the diaper wasn't blue any more, but yellow over and over.
"Look at this! It's soaking wet! This is a special brand. The cover changes
its color to yellow when it becomes wet. It's a nice wetness indicator. And
this one is yellow over and over. You don't seem to have much control over
yourself any more.", he explained with a wide grin on his face.
He seemed to utterly enjoy my predicament.
"No, Daddy! I tried to control it but it didn't work! I simply couldn't hold
it back!", I cried.
"Exactly as it should be.", he murmured while he cleaned me up.
The nasty smell and the thoroughly dirty diaper didn't seem to bother him at
all. He changed me like it was the most ordinary thing in the world.
"I really hoped that you would come to your senses eventually. Good choice. It
would've been a pity if I had to sell you. But from now on you're mine
forever. For a moment I feared that all my efforts would have been in vain.",
he explained while he wiped my bottom.
"As I said, you need some practice, but eventually you'll be a really cute boy
toy. And you'll get plenty of practice, believe me.", he added.
I grimaced, but didn't say a word. I didn't want to take the risk and annoy
him again. Maybe he'd change his mind and sell me after all. I hated to give
him blow jobs, but right this moment I was defenseless. I had to play his
game.
"Now, with this little problem sorted out I'll prepare a nice dinner for us.
Then we'll watch a fine movie together. I'm really looking forward to our
first evening and night together. I bet you do, also, don't you?", he asked.
"Yes, Daddy.", I replied.
Of course I had no desire whatsoever spending an evening and a night with my
tormentor, but I had no choice. I had to obey him for now.
"Good."
Then he put me into a fresh diaper and clean plastic pants. After that he
dressed me with these silly short-alls again and put me onto my feet.
He took my hand and led me back to the kitchen. And there things repeated
themselves. When I smelled his dinner I realized that I was quite hungry. I
didn't have anything to eat since breakfast.
And once again I was only allowed to look and smell. For me he prepared some
baby food from the supermarket. The ingredients were carrots, potatoes and
beef. And a big glass of milk. It didn't taste that bad, but I longed for his
steak with fried onions, potatoes with sauce and vegetables.
There was only the slight problem that I didn't have teeth any more. The only
way to eat his dinner would be as mash. And I seriously doubted that it would
still taste as good as it smelled after it came out of the blender.
While I gulped down my milk, he cleaned up the kitchen. Then he took me to the
living room.
The first evening with Daddy
============================
It was a giant room with a dining area and a huge LCD TV. The TV was attached
to the wall. Beneath that was a cupboard with a hi-fi and home cinema system.
A large leather sofa stood in front of all that.
He sat me down on the sofa and began to fiddle around with the DVD player.
"This movie is my favorite. It has everything a good movie needs. Just about
perfect.", he said and then sat down right beside me on the sofa.
Then he embraced me and played the movie.
The title was "Big Tits, Giant Dicks". It was a hardcore porno!
The background image of the opening credits was a big titted woman slowly and
pleasurably licking a giant black man's dick. This woman came close to being
my dream woman. She had big, round tits, a really cute face and endless legs.
I got horny in an instant.
"I hope you like this one, too", Daddy said.
I didn't say a word. I didn't really know what to make of this, and I had to
play his game for now.
Then he snuggle against me and put his hand into my diapered crotch. Then the
movie started. It wasn't simply a porno movie with big tits and dicks, it also
had a sadomasochistic and domination theme. The women were forced to lick the
men's dick. And the women got spanked until their butt was beet red. Like me
today.
After the spanking they were quite eager to give the men a blow job. That
didn't bother me, though. These big breasted women made me horny beyond
belief. There was but a slight problem. Absolutely nothing happened in my
diaper. I became hornier with every second, but nothing happened. Normally I'd
have a boner right now that would tear the diaper apart, but absolutely
nothing happened! Not the slightest stir in my diapers! Nothing, naught, nil!
This feeling was totally frustrating. I was absolutely horny, but nothing
happened to release the pressure. I didn't even get a boner! Feeling my stiff
member pressing against the diaper would have helped a lot, I think, but even
that I wasn't granted.
It took me some time to notice, but Daddy always rubbed the front of my diaper
when a woman gave a man a blow job.
It felt quite pleasant, but it didn't give me the release I needed so badly.
Quite the opposite. It made me even hornier.
"Do you like the movie?", he asked.
"Yes, Daddy. But it's so frustrating! I'm really horny, but I don't get a
boner! I want to cum!", I whined quietly.
"I can assure your, that's not going to happen. Little boys like you can't
cum. You're still not past puberty. It's a pity that you can't even get hard.
But that's how it is for little boys like you.", he said with a huge grin in
his face and rubbed my diaper even more vigorously.
"But I have to cum! You're kidding, right?", I cried and gazed fascinated at
the TV screen.
"Believe me, you'll never ever cum again. As I said, since you've not reached
puberty yet, it won't work.", he replied.
"Please tell me that it is not true! Please! I have to cum!", I pleaded.
He had to be kidding! It simply couldn't be true that I wasn't able to cum any
more! I needed to feel my cock jerk badly! I was so incredibly horny. I
thought I was about to explode. I couldn't live without cumming! The pressure
was so intense! If I wouldn't cum I'd go mad.
"I'm not kidding. I'm totally serious about that. You won't cum ever again.",
he said.
"I don't believe that! I HAVE to cum!", I whined.
"Try it, if you don't believe me. Are you hard already? I don't think so. If
you're not hard by now, it won't happen at all, I believe.", he explained.
"I don't feel a thing!", I cried.
"Exactly. And why do you think that will change? You are my little boy now,
and you'll never feel a boner again. Never ever. Believe me, I made sure of
that.".
"You're lying!", I shouted and rubbed the front of my diaper vigorously, still
not believing him.
But nothing happened. Well, almost nothing. I got hornier every second. But I
didn't get a boner. I just got more and more aroused.
"Do you need help?", he asked grinningly.
Then he took my hand and rubbed the diaper even harder. But nothing is exactly
what continued to happen. Not even the slightest hint of an erection. Nothing,
zap, naught, nil! This couldn't be real!
"NOOOOO! This can't be real!", I sobbed.
"Believe me, it is. You'll have to learn to live with that. Maybe it'll help
when I fuck you in the ass and my dick teases your prostate. But I wouldn't
count on that.", he said.
I froze in fear when he said that. Until now I had managed to forget about
that part. But in that moment I realized that he wanted me not only for blow
jobs. In time he'd also fuck me in the ass! And I feared that this moment
wasn't far away.
"What does that mean?", I asked frightened.
"I explained to you what I did with your cute little butt. That wasn't just
for fun. Soon this little fuck hole of yours will see some action.", he
explained.
"But, but...", I sobbed.
Then I stopped. If I complained again, maybe he would reconsider selling me to
some mad customer of his.
"Look at it this way: You can't escape. You are what you are now. My little
toy boy. A toy boy solely for my pleasure. You yourself don't need to feel a
thing. It suffices when I'm pleased with you. And when I'm pleased with you
I'll treat you well. That's how it works. Maybe, just maybe, there is a chance
that you'll feel something pleasurable when I fuck you in the ass and
stimulate your prostate. You should be thankful that I didn't take your
prostate, also. But, the good thing is: I still get to fuck you in the ass for
that.", he said lustful.
Once again I had tears in my eyes, but I didn't object. I gazed at the TV
again. One of the big titted women just got fucked by one of the studs. While
being fucked she gave a blow job to another man. I became even hornier seeing
this. I didn't think that I could become any hornier, but it happened. And
still nothing happened in my diaper. Instead of feeling a raging boner I had
to pee!
I had given up to try and control it, let alone trying to hold it back. It was
useless. I just let it happen, as humiliating as it was. But I had no choice.
As I wet my diaper I once again realized how embarrassing and humiliating all
this was. I was an adult man, for heaven's sake! A grown up man watching a
porno flick with really hot chicks. But instead of feeling a raging boner in
the pants I peed my diapers! This couldn't be real!
And if this weren't already enough there was this frustration driving me
crazy. I could hardly bear that. The movie seemed to be endless. I tried to
distract myself from it but I couldn't resist to watch the TV. Every time I
stared at these beautiful women I got hornier. Just a little, but it drove me
crazy. I had no means to release the tension building up inside me.
At the end of the movie I was totally desperate. I was horny as hell and I
could do nothing to release the tension. It felt like I was about to explode.
"A wonderful movie, don't you think?", he asked while the ending credits ran.
"Yes, Daddy.", I responded.
"I'm glad you also liked the movie. Now it's time for bed. I have some work to
do tomorrow.", he said.
"Are you wet again?", he asked.
"Yes, Daddy.", I said humiliated.
"Then I'll change you before we go to bed."
He undressed me and put me onto the changing table. Then he removed my wet
diaper and played with my tiny penis.
"It's really cute, I have to admit. Your dick is a success. And so utterly
useless. That's what I like most about it. You know, I thought about removing
it completely and only leave a nice little pee hole between your legs. But
such a sweet little useless tiny boy prick is much nicer than just a little
hole.", he explained.
"Yes, Daddy.", I replied.
"And your nice, cute little butt... It's so sweet. I can't hold myself back
any more. I'll do it now. I just have do deflower you right now. I've dreamed
of this all day long.", he said to my horror.
Then he pulled down his pants. Once again I had to face his giant prick. He
already was as hard as he could get. He was so incredibly huge! I feared it
would hurt a lot.
"You may lubricate it. But see to it that I don't cum! If I cum in your mouth
I'll sell your anyway. I want to enjoy the first time inside your little
ass!", he warned.
I was terribly afraid of what I was about to endure for the first time, but I
didn't say a word. I felt like I was remote-controlled when sat up and brought
my mouth closer to his monster.
I gazed at his prick disgustedly. I was scared as hell having to take his
monster into my mouth again, even though I had done it before today and knew
what to expect. But I had no choice. I had do obey him. For now.
Disgustedly I took his member into my mouth and lubricated it with my saliva.
I was careful as hell. He was so incredibly horny that every wrong move would
get him off.
He even moaned lustful when he felt my tongue touching his dick. I, however,
felt once again tears welling up.
"That's enough. Lie down. Knees to the head.", he ordered after a while.
I obeyed. Shortly after that I heard a clicking noise and felt how my
sphincter contracted.
And then I felt the head of his dick touching my asshole. I could feel how he
slowly, very slowly, pushed it inside me.
I hated it immediately. It was totally sickening and unpleasant. Instinctively
I tried to get rid of this unnatural intruder, but of course that didn't work.
At first it wasn't painful, just disgusting and unpleasant. But after his head
was inside me and is dick widened the pain began.
His dick was so wide that I felt like being split in two. It was a sharp,
burning pain in my ass becoming more intense with every second. At first I
sniveled lowly, but after a short while I cried uncontrollably from the pain.
"Uh! You're incredible! So unbelievably tight! Incredible!", he moaned
completely ignoring my crying and pleas for mercy.
Mercilessly he shoved his dick further up my ass. Very slowly. Until I felt
his crotch touching my ass. In this position he remained for quite some time.
"You are really incredible. There can't be anything better than you. And rest
assured, I like it when you cry like this while I'm at it! It really turns me
on. It only tells me that you're totally at my mercy. You're absolutely
helpless without me!", he moaned.
After a while he was satisfied and pulled his dick back out slowly. Then he
began to fuck me. Slowly at first, then be became faster and faster.
Unfortunately the pain didn't abate. It just changed. After a while it wasn't
a sharp, burning pain any more, but a dull, throbbing pain. And that
definitely wasn't an improvement. The faster he fucked me, the more intense
the throbbing pain became. The whole time I cried uncontrollably from the
pain. But that turned him on even more, just as he said.
After what seemed an eternity for me he became slower, and I could feel how
his prick expanded a little further. Then his dick began to twitch inside me.
I felt how he pumped load after load of his cum inside my ass. I thought it
would take him forever. While he came his moans of lust even drowned my
crying! He was definitely having fun.
This feeling was the worst I had to endure until now. It was even more
disgusting than shitting my own diaper and having to sit in my own wastes for
a whole afternoon. It was so humiliating and embarrassing that I stopped
crying from the pain, and instead began to cry out of shame and humiliation.
Finally he pulled his member out of my ass and pressed a button on the remote.
The pain decreased immediately. It was like heaven! This time I cried from
relief. Finally it was over!.
"And now clean it up!", he grunted.
He didn't really mean that, did he? I ignored him and savored the feeling of
the abating pain.
"Is your hearing somehow impaired? Clean it up, I said!", he shouted at me.
I sat up, but that wasn't the cleverest thing to do. My sphincter reacted with
a stinging pain, when I burdened it with my weight. I cried out from the pain,
but he didn't bother.
Again I gazed at his instrument of torture. Only this time it was limp. It was
covered with his cum and a little shit of mine.
"Now go on!", he ordered impatiently.
With a trembling hand I lifted his half limp dick and shoved it into my mouth.
The mere thought of where it just recently had been made me choke. And the
taste didn't really help.
But I managed not to throw up. I licked him clean and swallowed the remnants
of his adventure inside me. I cried like a baby all the time.
"Very well. Well done. You are really incredible. If you weren't already there
I'd have to invent you.", he said with a broad grin on his face.
When I was finished and sat up again I felt that my bottom somehow became wet.
I looked down and saw a little puddle of his cum between my legs.
It's time to put you back into a fresh diaper, I think. Otherwise you'll soil
all of the changing table with my cum. It would have surprised me if you were
able to hold on to that.", he said grinningly as he noticed puddle of his
sperm between my legs.
Then he took a diaper from the shelf and put a diaper doubler into it.
"For the night we need some extra security. I don't want you to ruin my bed.
Legs up!", he said.
Then he put this even bigger diaper around my crotch. After that he pulled
rubber pants over this already huge package.
Next, he produced a romper suit from the closet. On the back it had a strap,
just at level with the hip.
"We don't you go AWOL tonight, do we?", he said grinningly and put me into the
romper suit.
He picked me up like I weighed nothing and carried me into another room.
Obviously this was his bedroom.
Right to the door was a giant king-size bed, opposite to it a huge closet.
Spellbound I stared at the huge window just opposite the door. Behind that
window was a balcony, so the window could be opened.
But then I noticed that this window also had the same knob as every door and
window in this goddamn house. I already knew that I wouldn't be able to open
it with my mutilated hands, but it still was worth a try.
He went straight to the bed and removed the sheet. Then he put me onto the
mattress and laid me down on my side. I could feel him fiddling around on the
back of my romper suit. Then I heard a metal clicking sound.
"Don't run away while I'm in the bathroom.", he said impishly and then
disappeared in the adjacent bathroom.
This was my chance! At least I could try if I was able to somehow open the
window. I he'd catch me doing this I could still tell him that I wanted to
enjoy the view. No risk, no fun, as they say.
I sat up and tried to leave the bed. But something was wrong. With every move
I felt something jerking at the romper suit. I scuttled to the end of the bed
and sat down on the rim of the bed. But as I tried to sit up I was tugged back
by something. Just like I was on a rubber band. I tried repeatedly, but every
time I was pulled back on the bed again.
Then I turned around and discovered the strap attached to my romper suit. The
strap disappeared right in the middle of the mattress.
I crawled there, only to discover that it was covered with a flap. It was a
plastic flap with a slot for the strap. The flap could be opened, but to do so
I needed real hands. My mutilated fingers were much too crude for that. I
didn't manage to open the flap.
After realizing that I desperately pulled at the strap. I wanted to see how
long it really was. I wanted to unwind it completely. But that was way more
difficult than it sounded. The strap was quite tight and hard to grasp. And it
rolled up again when the tension decreased. I failed miserably. The strap slid
out of my hands again and again.
Then I had to try another way. I tried to leave the bed on both sides, but the
strap pulled me back every time. It seemed be exactly as long as the bed was
wide. I could move freely in the bed, but I couldn't leave it. I was caught in
the bed as long as the strap was fastened to the bed.
This didn't work. I turned my head to see how it was attached to the romper
suit, but I couldn't see a thing. I tried to find the fastener with my hands
but without my thumbs and my sensitive fingertips this was totally useless. I
could only feel that it was made from metal. Otherwise it seemed to be plain
without any edges.
Desperately I laid back on the bed again and choked down the need to cry
again. This madman seemed to think of all and everything! He double checked
and triple checked everything! He knew exactly that I wasn't able to open one
single door in this house, but he still thought that it was necessary to tie
me to the bed! He seemed to be a security fanatic.
After a while Daddy returned. I turned my head to him. He was stark naked and
his hair was still wet. His giant dick dangled half erect between his legs. He
stared me directly into my eyes while I mustered his well trained body.
Without a word he went to the opposite side of the bed and removed the sheet.
Then he laid down on the bed. Next he snuggled against me. His dick pressed
against my ass again. Then he embraced me and pulled me further to his side,
so that I could feel his six packs on my back.
"Though you were, and still are, a quite rebellious and naughty boy, you are
still really incredible. If I hadn't created you someone would have to for
me.", he whispered into my ear and then kissed my hair.
I was still quite disgusted by the fact that I was sharing the bed with
another man, let alone this intimate contact he had with me. But I couldn't do
anything against that. Right now he had absolute control over me, so I
remained silent.
Then he bent over a little and kissed me onto my cheeks. Then he turned my
head and kissed me onto my mouth. Short at first, then longer. I didn't
respond to his approaches. I only let it happen without interest.
"So unbelievably sweet and helpless. I love you...", he murmured.
Then I felt how his tongue touched mine and his beard scratched my face.
"And your tender skin....", he whispered into my ear and fondled my hands.
I was totally disgusted by all this. I felt sick, humiliated and utterly
helpless. And I felt how he got hard again. I could even feel it getting
bigger and bigger through the thick diaper. He had managed to push his tongue
into my mouth. He was toying around with mine. I let it happen apathetically
and didn't respond to his affections. I was wondering what else I had to
endure, and for how long I could stand this and play his game.
After a while he released my head and stopped kissing me.
"We'll have to practice the kissing. But rest assured, we'll also manage
that.", he murmured disappointedly.
"Talking of practice. You made me so horny again that I can't sleep..."
He laid on the back and the sheet vaulted considerably where his crotch was.
He removed the sheet and stared at his dick first, then in my eyes.
"That's your fault. Take care of it.", he said grinningly staring at his dick
again.
He had to be kidding! He couldn't be horny again! Just ten minutes ago he had
fucked me in the ass! He seemed to be insatiable.
I sobbed shortly and looked at him with begging eyes, but he didn't care.
"You know what to do.", he said threateningly and looked me deep in the eyes.
I began to cry again. Tears ran down my cheeks but I didn't say a word. I just
wondered how much more humiliation and embarrassment I had to endure before I
was able to escape from this hell. If I got a chance at all.
I sat up again and brought my mouth to his erect prick. This time I knew
exactly what to do.
At first I kissed the head of his dick and then licked the underside of it
with my tongue. Slowly I worked my way down until I reached his sac. then I
played with his big balls a little. Next I worked my tongue up his dick again
until I reached his head. After that I tried to take his member into my mouth
completely without choking. This time it worked out much better. I did it
without him pushing my head down.
Meanwhile he was once again moaning softly. I did some tricks with my tongue,
and he seemed to like that. His moaning got louder and louder. I pulled my
head back slowly and played with his head again.
This I repeated, slowly at first and then faster and faster. His moaning got
louder, until I noticed that he was at the brink of another giant orgasm. It
wouldn't take him long now to shoot load after load of his cum down my throat.
I prepared myself emotionally to once again taste his cum into my mouth. And
then he came. His dick began to throb and shortly after that his cum flooded
down my throat. This time I knew what to expect and manged to swallow
everything.
When his boner withered I pulled my head back and licked him clean until no
trace of his sperm was left on his dick.
"Good boy. You're a quick learner. That was much, much better than the first
time. In one week time you'll be perfect. I didn't think that you'd give in so
fast.", he said satisfied.
"Thank you, Daddy.", I said disgusted by myself.
"And now go to sleep."
I laid down beside him. He cuddled against me, embraced me and tucked us both
in.
"Sleep well!", he whispered into my ear and kissed me on my forehead.
After a couple of minutes he was fast asleep. I, however, couldn't sleep. I
could still taste his cum in my mouth. And I had a thick diaper wrapped around
my crotch. I wasn't used to that and pretty sure I would never accept that.
The diaper was always in the way and bothered me with every move. The problem
was, that after what I experienced this day I was pretty sure I would need it.
Otherwise we'd both wake up in a pretty wet bed in the morning. As I realized
this I began to cry again quietly. I was incontinent! I'd need diapers for the
rest of my life! And my ass still hurt from being fucked by him.
How the hell could I let that happen? From my point of view I was a quite
normal eighteen year old guy just yesterday, and now I was the boy toy of a
madman. And I was totally at his mercy. I was totally dependent on him and his
moods. He could do with me what he wanted, and I could do nothing against it.
Waking up with Daddy
====================
When I awoke the next morning I didn't know where I was. But one thing I knew
for sure: Everything felt strange and wrong. When I realized that Daddy still
had his arm wrapped around me and felt his boner on my ass I remembered
immediately.
After that I realized why I woke up. I had to pee quite urgently. But shortly
after that realization it was already too late. Helplessly I felt the pee
flooding into my diapers. I couldn't control it or hold it back. I could only
let it happen. The diaper felt even thicker and bulkier that the evening
before. And I had an itch at my sac. I tried to scratch myself there but the
diaper was too thick. It didn't work. And Daddy awoke from my movements.
"Good morning, Eric.", he said and kissed me on the forehead.
Then he turned himself on the back and stretched. Next he removed the sheet.
"Eek, I bet you have a very dirty diaper, don't you?", he said and wrinkled
his nose.
I smelled it instantly. As I sat up I felt the mess shifting around in my
diaper. I shit my diaper while being asleep and didn't even notice it! I
really was completely incontinent! This couldn't be true! I couldn't believe
that I didn't wake up for that! Once again I felt tears welling up.
"Yes, Daddy!", I sobbed.
"And did you wake up when you had to go?", he asked.
"No, Daddy!", I whined.
"Don't cry, Eric. Little boys like you have an accident now and then. No need
to cry for that.", he tried to console me.
"But, Daddy, I'm a big boy. I can control myself!", I sobbed.
"Obviously not. But don't bother. It happens. No need to cry. You'll have to
get used to that.", he replied.
"Yes, Daddy.", I cried.
"Very well. Right now there are more pressing issues needing your attention.
You know what to do...", he said and stared at his crotch.
I followed his look. He had giant boner. Oh no, not again, I thought, but I
had to obey him. I wasn't in the position to put up a fight at the moment.
While I stared at his erect dick I cried louder and harder. He immediately
noticed.
"Don't do that. You told me you'll be a nice boy. Is that still true?", he
said threateningly.
"Yes, Daddy!", I sobbed and sat up.
While moving I felt the smelling, soft mush shift inside my diaper. Even as I
knelt on the mattress and brought my mouth to his prick I felt it move around
with every move I made. I would never get used to this humiliating and
embarrassing feeling. Why did he do this to me?
Nevertheless I had to pay attention to his mood. I didn't want him to get mad
at me. And for that I had to give him another blow job. I got over my disgust
and did my job.
With every time he seemed to like it it more and more what I did to his dick.
This time he was moaning lowly after a short while. After he shot load after
load of his sticky cum into my mouth I licked his dick clean.
I looked him in the face and he seemed to be quite satisfied. He had his arms
folded behind his head and stared me directly in the eyes.
"You really are a quick learner. This one was even better than last evening.
Not bad. I have to pee but I don't want to get up just yet. But soon you'll
take care of that also.", he said while still relishing his orgasm.
"Daddy?", I said and looked at him quizzically.
"What?", he replied.
"What do you mean by that?", I asked frightened.
"Hm, don't tell me that you still think that I'll use your sweet mouth for
blow jobs only. Pee is also fluid, and it can be swallowed perfectly.", he
explained.
"But Daddy, please don't", I pleaded aghast.
"Watch your mouth! You'll do what I tell you or our ways will part.", he said
threateningly.
"Yes, Daddy.", I said frightened and disgusted.
He had to be kidding me! Never in my life I'd drink his piss! But I thought
the same about some things he made me do yesterday. I wasn't sure about that.
Maybe he'd really make me drink his piss.
"Good boy. We'll have to practice for that, though. If we did it now the bed
would be completely messed up, I guess. But I'm really looking forward to the
first time. And since your are a really fast learner I don't think I have to
wait long for that.", he explained and closed his eyes.
I laid down beside him and thought about that. Before he made me drink his pee
I had to be gone. I simply had to! This man was mad, a total maniac! Never
ever he'd make me drink his piss!
For a while he just laid beside me with closed eyes. Meanwhile I once again
felt the need to pee. I didn't try to fight it any more. I let it flow freely.
It was futile even to try. But when I felt the pee flowing down my sac I had
enough. This was unbearable.
"Please change my diapers, Daddy.", I dared to ask.
"Nope, little boy, you'll have to wait a little longer.", he said and then got
up.
"Don't run away while I'm getting ready.", he said grinningly and then
disappeared in the bathroom.
As I heard the water running in the bathroom I realized how badly I needed a
nice, hot shower and a tooth brush to get the taste of his cum out of my
mouth. There was the slight problem though. I didn't have any teeth in my
mouth any more.
And I desperately wanted to get out of this dirty diaper. My sac itched
terribly. I tried to scratch myself again, but it didn't get through the thick
diaper. I sat up and slid around on the spot trying to get rid of the itch.
But the only thing I accomplished by this was to distribute the smelly content
of my diaper even further.
I wasn't sure what was worse: the itch or feeling the dirty diaper with every
move I made and sitting in my own shit.
In the meantime Daddy had returned from the bathroom. I didn't hear him
coming.
"What's up, boy?", he asked.
"My sac is itching!", I whined.
"Watch your mouth, Eric! Little boys like you don't use adult words. Sac...
Where did you get that? Little boys like you say 'down there' or 'crotch'.
Understood?", he reprimanded me.
"Yes, Daddy. I have a really bad itch down there!", I whined.
"Better. But there's nothing I can do about that right now. It will go away
all by itself. Just wait.", he said.
"Yes, Daddy. Will you change my diapers now?", I asked hopefully.
"No, not yet. Just get some more sleep. I'll place a call with a good friend
of mine. She's a very good hypnotist. Maybe she can do something about you
using scatology all the time. There has to be something she can do.", he said
much to my horror.
I was just about to object as he threateningly lifted his forefinger.
"Just keep it to yourself, Eric! You promised me not to cry any more!", he
said.
"Yes, Daddy!"
"Good. I'll pick you up when I have prepared breakfast. See you soon! And get
some more sleep.", he said and disappeared.
Great! Now he wanted to mess around with my head also! What else did he have
in mind for me? I had to get out of this madhouse. Now!
I crawled to the edge of the bed but once again I was held back by this damn
strap. I jerked at it with all my strength, but I couldn't get rid of it. It
pulled me backup in the bed every time. After a while I gave up and laid down.
I began to cry from frustration and helplessness again.
I tried to get some more sleep but I wasn't tired any more. And the itch was
still there. I rolled around in the bed to get rid of it, and with every move
I felt the disgusting content of my diaper shift around.
Finally Daddy returned.
"Hello Eric. Did you get some sleep?", he asked.
"No. I couldn't. Could you sleep with a diaper full of shit and piss around
your crotch? You should try it.", I said sullenly.
"This scatology again. But that will stop soon. I talked to my friend. She'll
come around this morning. She assured me that she can fix this with only one
session. She'll give you a shot of a highly experimental drug and then it
won't be a problem. This drug has just one side effect. You'll be worn out for
about one day, but I can live with that.", he explained and removed the strap
that tied me to the bed.
After that session I'll never hear such gross words out of your mouth again.
I'm really excited, I have to admit.", he added and picked me up.
He carried me into my room and put me onto the changing table. When he removed
the diaper I could see the extent of my accident. It wasn't just a little bit!
I had dumped a full load of shit into my diaper while being asleep! My
sphincter was so weak that I couldn't control myself at all! And I didn't
notice a thing!
The diaper was totally dirty and wet. Then I noticed some white spots. At
first I thought the diaper was clean there. But then I realized that it was
his cum he pumped inside me yesterday.
Once again I felt tears welling up, but I didn't show a sign.
He cleaned me up without batting an eye. But when I thought he'd put me into a
clean diaper he fetched the remote from his pocket and pressed a button.
I felt my sphincter tighten immediately. Not again, I thought. Just an hour
ago I gave him a blow job! He seemed to be insatiable. I sobbed shortly. Then
he removed his pants and I could see his giant boner.
"I'm sure you wanna lubricate it, don't you?", he asked.
I knew I couldn't resist him. So I did my job with tears in my eyes. I
lubricated his prick with my tongue as good as I could until he had enough.
"What's up, Eric? Don't you like me inside you?", he asked grinningly.
"It hurts so much, please don't, Daddy!", I whined.
"That's exactly how I like it.", he grunted and then I felt his dick at my
ass.
"Don't hold yourself back. Cry, howl an whine as much as you like. That only
makes me hornier. If I hadn't created you, someone should have done it for
me...", he said.
Then he plunged his dick into my ass. This time he wasn't as careful as last
evening. He didn't bother any more. He simply used me. As he was half inside
me I cried uncontrollably.
"Louder, cry louder!", he moaned.
I tried to stay calm but I didn't manage. Like last evening I felt like being
split in half. It was impossible to ignore the pain.
And it took him some time to cum. I longed to feel his dick jerk in my ass,
but it didn't happen. He really enjoyed using my ass. I could tell from his
moaning. I howled like a beaten dog, but he didn't care. He went faster and
faster and his moaning got louder. I hoped he would cum soon but I wasn't
granted that wish. It took him an eternity to cum inside my ass.
I was a howling wreck when he he pulled his half erect dick out of me. When I
saw his still huge dick dangling between his legs I knew exactly what to do.
His member was smeared with his sperm and my shit.
Sobbingly I sat up and licked him clean without him saying a word. I had to do
it anyway, so no need to risk a punishment.
"That was perfect! You're really a quick learner. You're incredible...", he
moaned after he finished off.
Then he took the remote out of his pocked again and pressed a button. I felt
how my sphincter relaxed. Immediately part of his cum flowed back out of my
ass into my fresh diaper beneath me. He sat down beside me on the changing
table, put his head back and closed his eyes relishing his once again giant
orgasm.
And I enjoyed the feeling of a slowly fading pain. Then I realized how horny I
was. I didn't know how long ago I had my last orgasm. But it had to be a very
long time ago. All of a sudden I was horny as hell, but nothing happened in my
crotch.
I grabbed my little stub with both hands and began to rub it, but still
nothing happened. It was kinda like I was rubbing a part of my skin.
Desperately I waited for just a hint of an erection, but nothing continued to
happen!
This couldn't be true! Something had to happen! Just a little erection,
nothing more! This ridiculous, little stump couldn't be good for pissing only,
could it? But obviously that wasn't the case. It didn't matter how hard I
tried, I just couldn't get a boner.
Do you need help?", Daddy asked suddenly.
He had recovered from his orgasm and enjoyed my feeble attempts. That is, he
had a very broad grin in his face.
"Let's see.", he said and pushed my hands away.
Then he took my penis between his thumb and index finger and began to
masturbate me. Slowly at first, then faster and faster.
He didn't have much room to move, because my dick was so incredibly small, but
it didn't help. Nothing continued to happen.
It didn't matter how hard he tried or how fast he was. I didn't feel a thing.
Well, not really nothing, but it wasn't erotic or satisfying at all.
It felt more like he was touching my arm or any other non-erogenous part of my
body. And above all it was utterly frustrating.
"Please, let me cum!", I cried desperately.
"And again these nasty words. But that will be over soon. Why should you know
such words? Or even be able to say those words? As you can see, it doesn't
work any more.", he laughed.
"No matter what I do.", he added.
Then he fondled the underside of my dick. Just that spot where a man is most
sensitive. But still nothing happened.
"Well, I would've cum a long time ago if you'd done that to me. But little
boys like you just can't cum. You have to reach puberty for that. Really a
pity that this will never happen.", he said and laughed out loud.
"How could you do that to me, you ASSHOLE? I can't live like that!", I
erupted.
"ERIC! I have to punish you for that. I think ten blows will do it.", he
scolded me.
I immediately realized what I had done. I really had to watch my mouth.
"Please, Daddy, don't do that! I'll be a good boy from now on!", I begged, but
it was useless.
He didn't even react to my begging.
"Well, hopefully this was the last time I heard such foul words out of your
mouth. By the time my friend is finished with you, this outrage will be ended.
But that's exactly why I have to punish you for this. I have to admit, I'll
miss your protest. But just a little. This way it's better for you.", he said.
Then he sat down on the changing table and put me over his knee. I struggled
with my legs, but it didn't help. A short time later I felt his bare hand
hitting my bottom. It began to hurt and I cried like a baby immediately.
"Count!", he ordered.
"ONE!", I howled.
"If you miscount, I'll start again!", he said coldly.
He hit my left and right butt cheeks in turns. And at the count of nine I
miscounted.
"ONE!", he shouted.
"ONE!", I sniveled and heard his hand hit my butt again.
I didn't just hear it, I definitely felt it. The longer he worked on my ass,
the more painful it became.
This time I managed not to miscount. After nineteen blows he stopped and sat
me down onto the diaper that was already smeared with some of his cum.
"I hope you've learned your lesson.", he said pleased and rubbed his hands.
"Yes, Daddy!", I whined.
"Good. On second thought I'll really miss your foul language. But then I'll
get to hear you crying more often. That's definitely a good thing.", he said
and diapered me.
The diaper immediately became unbearably hot. I began to sweat, and the salty
fluid increased the already considerable pain. Once again tears flowed down my
face in torrents. But he didn't care at all. He put me into plastic pants and
then he pulled a white t-shirt over my head. Next he made me wear another one
of those ridiculous short-alls with bears embroidered in the front.
After he dressed me he took my hand and lead me into the kitchen. Once again
he fed me this disgusting mush of vegetables and fruits.
Shortly after that the doorbell rang.
"That's Barbara, I think!", Daddy said delighted.
He disappeared shortly and answered the door. I could hear him greeting
Barbara effusively. Then the kitchen door opened again.
In front of him my dream woman entered the kitchen. Immediately I became even
hornier than I already was. She was just incredible.
She was slender, with long, blond hair, deep blue eyes like Terence Hill, a
sweet face and above all, perfect tits! They were huge, but not out of
proportion for her frame. Just perfect. I could see her flat belly through the
skintight dress. And I think I noticed a belly button piercing. Her hip was
incredibly small in comparison to her tits, but that made her body even more
interesting. Her ass was really cute and small, her legs seemed to be endless.
Above that she wore at least four inch high heels, accentuating her nice legs
even more. And she had a purse hanging from her left shoulder.
Open mouthed I stared at her. I even began to drool. With a smudgy bib around
my neck I sat in my chair and stared at her.
Instinctively I wiped my mouth with my mutilated hands and tried to make a
good impression.
"He... Hello.. I'm Ar.. Arnold...", I stammered and offered her my dirty and
mutilated hand.
"Oh, how nice!", she said and ignored my hand.
Instead she reached into my face and grabbed my right cheek with her thumb and
index finger and pulled it like grandmothers do with their grandchildren.
"So, you are little Eric? Daddy already told me so much about you. Really
cute! Hello Eric!", she said.
Right then I realized how ridiculous this scene had to be. A little boy in
diapers offering his dream woman his mutilated hand! If I had been myself that
moment I had thrown her on the table and fucked her right on the spot. But
unfortunately I wasn't Arnold any more. I was little Eric.
After the introduction they talked about me like I wasn't there or couldn't
understand them. Like I was a little baby. She took a chair and Daddy sat down
right beside her.
"You did a really good job on Eric! Does he really use his diaper or does he
only wear it?", she asked enthusiastically.
"Of yours he has to use it. He's more or less incontinent. And I also worked
on his cute, little ass also. Let me put it this way: He won't get boring for
me any time soon.", Daddy explained.
"Very nice! And his face is also beautiful. Good work! Was he always that
short or did you work on that, also?", she asked.
"He was quite small in the first place, but I worked on that also.", Daddy
said.
"I hope you'll have one of your infamous parties to introduce him, soon.", she
asked.
"Of course. I thought about next weekend. I hope you'll find some time?",
Daddy explained.
"Sure! For your parties I'll cancel everything else.", she replied.
"But to get to the point: What's his problem?", she asked.
"Well, he repeatedly called me names. And he still thinks that he's Arnold
instead of Eric. He repeatedly uses grown up words like 'shit' and 'cum' etc.
I'd appreciate it if you could break this nasty habit of his.", Daddy
explained.
"Mm, no problem at all. I expected something more challenging.", she grinned.
"When I'm finished with him, he won't be able to call you anything else than
Daddy. And he won't be able to use any grown-up words or swearwords any more.
And if you ask for his name, he'll answer Eric immediately.", she explained.
"Good, oh, and he still thinks that he's eighteen years old.", Daddy added.
"No problem."
Then she picked a bottle with a clear liquid and a syringe from her purse. She
filled the syringe with the liquid and injected it into my arm.
After that I can only remember her telling me that I should closely listen to
her voice...
After hypnosis
==============
I was sleepy when I awoke again. I was totally wasted. It took some time to
realize where I was.
I turned my head a little and saw bars. Obviously Daddy put me into the bed in
my nursery.
Then I remembered Barbara injecting me with this stuff. What did she do to me?
I hoped it was nothing really bad.
I had to get out of this madhouse. I removed the sheet covering me. When I
moved I realized that my diaper was dirty again. I had messed my diaper
without even noticing it! This was totally disgusting and maddening. I simply
couldn't go on like this!
I tried to climb out of the bed, but the bed even had bars on the top. The bed
had hinges on the left side with another set of bars attached. These bars went
over the top side of the bed and were locked on the other side.
I took a closer look on the lock. It wasn't really a lock, it was just a
mechanism to keep the top bars in place. No lock or anything like that. But it
was on the outside and with my mutilated hands I wouldn't be able to open it.
I tried nevertheless. But as expected, it didn't work out. I howled out of
frustration. I was so utterly helpless! How could he do this to me? I laid
down again and hit the cushion with my head repeatedly.
It didn't take long until Daddy entered my room.
"Good morning, Eric! Well, your diaper seems to be quite messy.", he greeted
me.
"And all this because of you, asshole!", I tried to say, but instead I said:
"And all this because of you..." and began to cry uncontrollably.
I calmed down quite fast and tried again.
"And all his because of you...", came out of my mouth, and once again I began
to cry.
What happened? What was up with me? I couldn't call him names any more?
Asshole was quite a simple word I had said a thousand times before!
Then I realized that this had to be Barbara's work. Somehow she tricked me
into not being able to say swearwords any more!
"What have you done to me? I can't even say...", I howled.
I intended to say 'asshole', but instead I began to cry again.
"Didn't I tell you that I don't want to hear these nasty words out of your
mouth again? Barbara's treatment obviously seems to work. She implanted you
with a suggestion making you cry every time you want to insult me. That seems
to work very well.", he explained happily.
"What's your name?", he asked.
"Eric!", I said without even thinking, even though I intended to say Arnold.
I tried again, but I still heard me say Eric.
"And how old are you?", he asked after that.
"Eleven.", I heard me say, though I wanted to say eighteen.
"I'm not eleven years old. I'm eleven!", I said defiantly.
Of course I tried to tell him that I'm really eighteen years old, but somehow
that didn't work.
"I'm eleven!", I tried again.
"Very good, Eric. Now you got it.", he said.
"And what's my name?"
"Asshole!", I intended to say, but instead I began to cry again.
I tried other swearwords, but I couldn't say them. The more I tried the more I
cried. Then I tried his real name.
"Daddy!", I heard myself say instead.
"Very well. Finally you got it. And how did you become Eric?"
Once again I tried to insult him, but it was useless. Then I tried to tell him
that all this was his fault, and that he did all this to me, but even that
made me just cry harder.
"Very good. Barbara's work is a full success.", he grunted pleased.
"What did you do to me?", I whined.
"Well, if you want to know: You can't call me names any more. Instead you'll
begin to cry uncontrollably. You can't tell your real name or your real age to
anyone anymore. And from now on you'll only be able to call me Daddy. And
finally I can take you out. Every time you try to explain your situation to
someone, for example, a police officer, you'll start crying instead.
Posthypnotic suggestions are really a nice thing.", Daddy explained.
Unbelievingly I stared at him.
"You can't do that to me, you..."
Of course I tried to say asshole, but instead I began to cry again.
"Of course, I can! Don't you see?", he replied gleefully.
"I'm Eric, I'm Eric!", I howled.
Actually I tried to say something different. I wanted to tell him that I'm
Arnold, and not Eric, but that didn't work out well.
"I'm eleven years old..", I whined.
"I know, Eric, I know. You don't need to explain that to me. I know that
you're my little eleven years old Eric.", he grinned broadly.
This time I cried from frustration.
"Ah, there's one thing I forgot to tell you: You won't be able to 'shit' or
'piss' your diapers any more. You'll pee and poo your diapers from now on. And
every time you'll have to do that you'll tell me, believe me.", he explained.
"I definitely won't! Why should I?", I said sullenly.
"Quite simple: Because Barbara told you so. I'm really looking forward to when
you'll tell me in public what you're about to do.", he said.
"Never ever!", I cried.
"We'll see. But right now you have some more pressing issues. You do want to
be changed, don't you?", he asked.
"Yes, Daddy!", I sniveled.
"Very well, if you ask nicely, I'll change you."
I couldn't get lower. I really had to overcome myself to beg him to change me.
But the feeling of having a messy diaper around my butt was even more
disgusting.
"Daddy, please change my diaper!", I heard myself say.
"Of course, Eric. It's about time.", he said and took me out of the bed.
He put me on the changing table and cleaned me up. After that he stared at my
little excuse of a dick for a long time.
"What's up, Daddy?", I asked.
"I'm wondering... Somehow you're missing some decoration on your nice little
pee-pee...", he said lost in thought and snipped my dick with his index
finger.
"How do you mean that?", I asked frightened.
This couldn't be good.
"Your little dick is a little too... let's say ordinary. It's missing some
color. And you're definitely missing my sign. A sign unambiguously saying that
you're mine.", he said.
"But I don't need that. I'm your's forever!", I wined.
I could barely stand this humiliation, but whatever he had in mind, I wouldn't
like it and I had to prevent it.
"Of course you're mine. That won't ever change. But something is missing down
there...", he pondered.
"I'm not missing anything there. You'll get used to that look!", I cried
desperately.
"No, there's definitely something missing. And I have a nice idea. After
breakfast I'll call a good friend of mine. He is a master in the art of
tattooing and piercings.", he said resolutely.
"Please, Daddy, don't do that to me!", I begged.
"Don't start crying again. But if you want to cry I'll give you a reason.", he
replied.
Then he picked the remote control from his pocket and I felt how my ass got
tighter.
Once again he fucked the brains out of me. When his dick touched my ass I
cried even louder. Not just from the pain, mostly from this constant
humiliation I had to endure. I was an eighteen year old man and not a boy toy!
After he jerked off inside me I had to lick him clean.
Then he diapered and dressed me. Once again it were these ridiculous short-
alls with the teddy bears on the front. After breakfast he called his friend.
"I have good news! He immediately canceled his schedule for today when I told
him about you. He can't wait to work on you. He loves my ideas. We can come
immediately. Isn't that nice?", Daddy cheered when he returned from the phone.
"Yes, Daddy!", I whined, though knowing exactly that I wouldn't like it.
But I still couldn't disobey him. He'd simply spank me and do it anyway.
"Good. Then let's go!"
He cleaned up a little and carried me to the car. He put me into a child's
seat in the back and started driving.
The Tattoo Parlor
=================
During the ride I was so nervous that I constantly peed and messed my diaper.
When we arrived the diaper was soaking wet and totally messy.
He took me out of the child's seat and took my hand. In the tattoo parlor
Daddy met a man who had tattoos everywhere, even in the face.
"Hello, Jack! Long time no see!", Daddy greeted him.
"Hello! Unfortunately. Nice to meet you again!", he replied.
"And this is Eric? Hello Eric!", he greeted me.
I was so incredibly nervous that I wet and messed my diaper again. I couldn't
control it. It just happened. I only felt the pee flowing freely into my
diaper and then how I lost control over my bowels.
"Eric, where are your manners? Don't you want to say hello to Jack?", Daddy
scolded.
"Hello, Jack.", I heard myself say.
"Hello, Eric.", he returned.
Then he wrinkled his nose.
"Hm, did he have an accident?", Jack asked.
"I bet he has. But don't worry, he's wearing a diaper.", Daddy explained.
"Hell, he's wearing a diaper and actually uses it?", Jack asked
disbelievingly.
"Exactly."
"How did you make that happen? Was that your idea?", he inquired further.
"Yes, I wanted it this way. It's a perfect reminder for him of who he really
is and where he belongs. And sitting in dirty diapers serves that purpose
quite well.", Daddy said.
"What does that mean? Is he incontinent?"
"Of course. He can't control himself any more. And he can't do a thing against
it. He is totally dependent on his Daddy."
"Nice idea, I like that. But unfortunately it interferes with my job. I don't
want him to pee on my all the time. And it could lead to infections."
"No problem. I have a catheter and a butt plug with me. He won't like it, but
how do they say: no pain, no gain?"
"OK, then prepare him and let's get started."
"Of course. Where can I clean him up?"
"Follow me."
He led us into a rather large bathroom. There Daddy removed my diaper and
cleaned me up. Then he inserted a catheter into my penis and connected it to a
urine bag. Then he turned me around and pressed something against my butt.
"No need to cry now. It won't be that bad.", he tried to console me.
Then the pressure increased steadily, until a rather large object entered my
ass. Even though my ass was as wide as it could get, it hurt considerably. But
I managed to hold the tears back.
"Well done, Eric.", he praised me.
After that he picked me up and carried me back to the parlor. There he put me
down on a couch.
Then Jack put up some blinds so I couldn't see what was going on.
"I think it's better when I put him under. This way he can't ruin the tattoo
by moving around too much.", Daddy said.
"Good idea. Please do it.", Jack replied.
Then I felt a prick in my ass and shortly after I was fast asleep.
I don't know how long Daddy let me sleep, but I once again awoke in my crib.
When I opened my eyes I stared directly at the familiar bars of the bed. Then
I noticed that my crotch felt somehow strange. It hurt a little.
And I felt something very large in my ass.
I turned my head and stared directly at Daddy's face.
"How do you feel, Eric?", he asked.
"My pee-pee hurts...", I heard myself whine.
Actually I wanted to say, that my dick hurt, but I didn't bring that over my
lips. That had to be Barbara's work.
"That should be the catheter. Don't worry, let me remove it.", Daddy
explained.
Then I noticed that I wasn't diapered. It was a wonderful feeling, even though
I had something up my ass and my dick hurt.
Daddy picked me up and put me onto the changing table.
"Would you like to see what Jack has done with your little pee-pee?", he
asked.
I wasn't sure if I wanted to know. I would most definitely not like it. But
Daddy didn't wait for my answer. He took me out of my romper.
My whole crotch was covered with a thick layer of white ointment.
"I'm quite curious myself. I haven't seen it totally healed myself.", Daddy
cheered.
Then removed the ointment with a cloth. Once again I didn't believe my eyes.
He had to be kidding me!
The shaft of my tiny dick was colored in light pink and the head was deep red!
And the head was decorated with a little heart framed in black.
Right above my dick was a tattoo saying 'Eric's little'. It was written in
blood red framed in black. The font was frisky script. The sentence continued
on the shaft of my dick: 'Pee-Pee'. In the same font and color like above my
dick, one 'Pee' on each side of my dick, because the whole word would have
been too long for my tiny prick.
My sac was as deep red as the roses decorating my dick. But that wasn't the
worst. At the base of my scrotum Daddy had put a ring around it pressing it
tightly together. Attached to this ring was another piece of metal that
practically split my sac in half and squeezed each testicle into a pouch at
the side of my scrotum. This piece of metal was fixed to the ring at the back
of my sac, also. My balls were clearly outlined in my sac. It was kinda like a
permanent testicle banding.
"Wonderful! Really nice, this view! Jack really did a outstanding job.", Daddy
gushed.
Then he took my balls into his fist and squeezed them a little. I cried out in
pain.
"I really love it. These wonderful, firm and above all utterly useless balls.
Incredible!", he said.
"You're hurting me!", I cried.
"I just love it. Your useless balls in my hand...", he relished and ignored
me.
"Do you like it?", he asked.
"Why did you do that to me? Didn't you do enough damage already? Why did you
deface my body even further? This is so embarrassing.", I howled.
"Exactly! That's exactly what this is about! So you like it. And you still
haven't seen your cute butt!", he replied much to my horror.
"What did you do to my behind?", I asked frightened.
Actually I wanted to ask him about my butt, but even this word I couldn't
bring over my lips.
He didn't answer me. Instead, he picked me up from the changing table and
carried me over to the mirror. He put me down with my back facing the mirror.
"See for yourself."
I turned my head and took a look at my ass.
Jack had tattooed a large heart around my asshole. It was blood red framed in
black. It covered nearly all of my butt. 'Eric's fuck hole' was written on my
tail bone in the same font and color as above my dick. Under that was a arrow
pointing directly at my asshole.
And I had brand on each of my butt cheeks. I recognized Daddy's decorated
initials.
"Jack really is a great artist, isn't he?", Daddy asked.
I cried from sheer desperation. Even if I managed to escape from this madhouse
I wouldn't be able to show myself off naked anywhere. If I could escape. And
meanwhile I had my doubts about that.
"Don't you like it? Or are you shedding tears of joy?", he asked sternly.
I didn't answer him. I just cried louder.
"Then I guess those are tears of joy, for your own good.", he said.
Then he put me back on the changing table.
"It's gonna hurt a little when I remove the catheter.", he explained while he
slowly pulled this thing out of my dick.
It burnt like hell. A little was quite an understatement.
"Now the butt plug."
He lifted my legs and pulled that monster out of my ass. At first it wasn't
that bad, but that thing widened considerably until I thought it would split
me in half. But he didn't stop. He pulled at it until it came out of me with a
audible noise. I cried like hell.
"That couldn't have been so bad. You didn't cry when I inserted it.", he said
and showed me the monster.
It was huge. After this my asshole had to be destroyed beyond repair. I just
hoped that the ring he implanted into my ass also took some damage. But I
doubted that.
"Quite a pity that I have to hide this piece of art behind a diaper. But since
you can't control yourself any more I don't have a choice. But before that I
want to enjoy your colorful fuck hole.", he grunted.
He fiddled around in his pocket. Then I felt my asshole getting tighter again.
He fucked me by every trick in the book. I was a crying wreck when he made me
lick his dick clean.
While he recovered from his orgasm I inspected my crotch with tears in my
eyes. Desperately I tried to remove the color with my hands, but of course it
didn't work. This tattoo would be on me forever.
Then I examined the ring around my sac and balls. I tried to find a break or
an edge with my mutilated fingers, but I didn't find any. It didn't even have
a lock or anything like it. It seemed to be quite solid.
I didn't notice that Daddy watched me.
"You'll have to get used to that, Eric. It's a real tattoo and it won't fade
any time soon. You won't get rid of it. Though you can remove tattoos with a
laser I won't allow it.", he explained.
"And the rings are titanium. You won't get rid of them, either. Jack managed
to weld them seamlessly to your body. Well, theoretically, if you cut off your
balls, you'll get rid of the rings, also.", he added grinningly.
Then he fetched a fresh diaper from the shelf and diapered me.
"Really a pity that I have to hide this piece of art behind a diaper...", he
repeated himself.
"If it is such a pity, why did you render me incontinent?", I whined.
"Well, on one hand it's a pity having to hide this wonderful tattoo, but on
the other hand I like to see you in diapers. And it wouldn't be the same if
you had a choice to use them. You can't have everything everywhere."
After dressing me he carried me in the kitchen and we had breakfast.
"Before I forget, I'm hosting a small party in your honor. I don't want to
withhold you from my customers.", he said while feeding me.
I froze immediately.
"A party? Customers? You don't want to show me off like this to other people,
do you?", I asked frightened.
"But of course I do. All my customers just come to see you! Isn't that
wonderful?", he cheered.
"But you can't show me off to other people like this! I look ridiculous! You
can't do that to me!", I cried.
"Nonsense. Of course I can show you to other people. First, my customers know
exactly what I can do, and second, nobody would notice that are not an eleven
year old boy. Well, except for the diaper. But even this is not really a
problem. I could still explain that you have a problem controlling yourself
and that I tried literally everything to get you out of them.", he explained.
I began to cry again. I painfully realized that he was absolutely right. I
looked like an eleven year old boy, and I sounded like one. There was no trace
left from the eighteen year old man I once was.
Despite that I wanted to know what to expect.
"Customers? How many guests do you expect?", I whined.
"Fifteen people and their slaves. All of the slaves are my creations. You're
not the first one I worked on, you know. Before you I had a really good slave,
but I couldn't resist the offer of a very rich sheik. He wanted him as a harem
guard."
"Why harem guard?", I asked afraid.
"Well, as you may imagine, he wasn't a complete man any more by the time I was
finished with him. I amputated his penis and implanted his balls into his
crotch. His crotch was totally smooth afterwards. Even the scars weren't
visible. And I removed his nipples. He was absolutely sexless.", he explained.
"Sexless?", I replied.
"Yes, I don't like it when my slaves have fun with themselves. That should be
my job. I want them to depend on me for that. Or don't do it at all. Like you,
for example.", he grinned.
As he said that I realized how horny I was. But nothing happened in my diaper.
Not even the slightest hint of an erection. I hadn't felt such a frustration
before in my life.
"But why do you do that to people? You can't be serious about me never cumming
again in my life! I can't live like that", I sniveled.
"Learn to live with it. Look at it this way: Whom do you want to satisfy with
your little dick? Every man and for sure woman would laugh at you when you try
to penetrate them. Or tell me any man or woman who'd still want to go to bed
with you when they know that you would pee inside them, because you can't
control yourself?", he asked.
I cried again. He was right. It was quite possible that I couldn't even
control myself while fucking someone else.
"That's all your fault!", I cried.
"There you're right. But now you're my perfect toy. I hope no one will offer
something decent for you. When the price is right I can't resist. But we'll
see soon.", he murmured.
The he fed me the rest of the mush and ate himself.
"And now we go shopping. I have to fetch some stuff from the supermarket for
the party.", he said.
Once again I froze in horror.
"But I want to play in my room.", I cried.
I wanted to avoid being seen in public at all costs.
"You should know me better. Do you think that I'm such an uncaring father? I
can't leave such a little, helpless boy like you at home alone. Of course
you'll join me.", he answered.
"But Daddy, I really want to play with my bricks, please!", I whined.
"Really? But nevertheless, you'll come with me. No backtalk any more.", he
said resolutely.
After he cleaned up the kitchen we left for the mall.
Going Shopping
==============
He put me into the child's seat like I was dressed. With the ridiculous short-
alls, the silly shoes and the childish t-shirt. But the worst thing was that I
couldn't even free myself from the seat. Of course I tried to open the
fastener of the child's seat with my mutilated hands, but once again I failed.
When he took me out of the child's seat at the mall, I was so nervous that I
wet and messed myself. I couldn't control it at all. As soon as a little pee
entered my bladder I flushed it into my diaper. And even worse, the same
happened at my rear end.
He put me onto my feet, locked the car and took my hand. When we walked
towards the mall I became even more nervous. When we passed other people I
imagined that they could hear the crackling of my diaper and the plastic
pants. And that they could smell the contents of my diaper. I could barely
hold back the tears.
But the first person passing by barely noticed me.
"Didn't I tell you? You look like a normal eleven year old boy. And you are,
in fact.", Daddy whispered into my ear after that person was out of earshot.
At that moment I didn't really know whether to be happy or to start crying. On
one hand it was good that nobody noticed me wearing and, above all, using
diapers. On the other hand it couldn't be good that nobody recognized the
eighteen year old man I really was.
Both wasn't what I expected. The longer I thought about that it could only
mean that I didn't have a chance to escape from that madhouse. Even if I
escaped I'd be captured by the next best police officer and being brought home
again. I wasn't able any more to tell the officer what he had done to me and
who I really was.
I'd just stand in front of him and cry. The officer would then look up where I
lived and bring me back to Daddy. And that would mean a really serious
punishment.
That moment I realized that my situation was hopeless. No matter what I did, I
totally depended on Daddy, well, besides a wonder.
Once again I felt tears welling up and was about to cry like a real baby.
Daddy seemed to notice.
"Don't start crying now. Just be glad that no one has noticed yet that you
messed your diaper. Believe me, they can smell it when they want to. No
plastic pants are that good.", he hissed into my ear as we entered the mall.
That shut me up for good. He was right and he could do to me what he wanted. I
would always be returned to him, no matter what I did. It made no sense to
upset him.
While we went through the mall nobody seemed to notice a thing. This was quite
frustrating, but on the other hand I was glad that nobody noticed my messy and
wet diaper.
And I should have been happy that he didn't put me in the child's seat of the
cart. I guessed that maybe I would fit inside.
While Daddy did the shopping I realized that I was just a normal eleven year
old boy for everyone else.
I thought some people did notice something, but maybe that was only my
imagination. Maybe it was because they stared a little too long at my padded
behind. But nobody said a word.
The longer I thought about it, the clearer my situation became. Why the hell
should they care about an eleven year old boy still wearing diapers? Even if
they noticed, why should they care? It was unusual, for sure, but it could
mean anything. Maybe it was a medical problem, or I was a little retarded. And
in the end, why should they start a discussion about that on the grounds of a
mere suspicion?
And maybe Daddy didn't hide my mutilated hands on purpose, as well as my
toothless mouth.
Perhaps he counted on the people noticing, so they'd think that something
terrible happened to me and I was a little insane because of that.
The more I thought about it, the more every detail fit together. In the end I
was just a little, helpless and insane eleven year old boy who'd be returned
to his father immediately when he got lost.
This meant that I was totally at his mercy. No matter what I did, I'd always
be returned to him.
I realized this when we were waiting at the check-out counter. That moment I
could barely hold back my tears.
"If you start crying now I'll ask the cashier for the key of the changing
room.", Daddy hissed into my ear.
He had assessed the situation correctly. But I couldn't hold back my tears
shortly before it was our turn.
The cashier was a very beautiful, young woman which I had asked for her phone
number immediately if I hadn't been Eric, but my old self. And above all this
she overheard our conversation.
She wrinkled her nose, looked at me and said with a voice so everyone else in
the queue could hear it:
"Fortunately I have the key for the changing room."
Right that moment I lost the last bit of control I had left. With an audible
fart I messed my diaper again. Without being able to do anything against it I
messed and wet my diaper.
"Thank you. Now I'll need the key, that's for sure.", Daddy replied so
everyone could hear.
"I'll just bring the stuff to the car. I'll be back shortly.", he added and
took my hand.
"Of course. No problem.", she replied.
Out of shame, embarrassment and humiliation I desperately wanted to vanish
into thin air. If I still were my old me, I'd ask her for her phone number and
would've fucked the brains out of her, but instead I had to play Daddy's game
and pretend that it was totally normal for him changing my diapers!
Tears were streaming down my face while he led me to the car.
"The cashier is really nice, isn't she?", he asked, just to tease me.
"YES!", I cried.
"And she knows about you and your messy diapers. Don't get your hopes up. I
will ask her for the key. I don't care how may people are waiting at the
checkout. No matter what you're thinking right now, how horny you are or how
much you'd like to ask her out: for her you're only an eleven year old boy
having a serious problem with bladder and sphincter control. It doesn't matter
how hot she is.", he explained while he loaded the trunk.
Then he took my hand again and led me back in the mall.
"Back again. Could you please give me the key for the changing room?", he
asked the cashier loudly so everyone could hear.
After that I imagined that everyone in the line stared at my padded behind.
Once again I wanted to vanish into thin air, but again, it didn't happen.
The key had a big diaper as a tally, and Daddy didn't even try to hide that,
while he led me through the whole mall.
"Why do you do that to me?", I asked when we were alone in the changing room.
"So you'll never forget who you are. It's that simple. And when I return the
key to the cashier, she'll know exactly what happened. I changed your dirty
diapers, nothing more, nothing less. The important thing for you is to forget
that you ever were a real man. You're my little Eric now, and you'll be Eric
for the rest of your life.", he said.
Then he cleaned me up and we left the mall. Of course he returned the key to
the same cashier, so she could see what happened.
"Thank you very much. The way home will be much more pleasant this way.", he
said when he returned the key.
"No problem at all.", the cashier replied.
Finally we returned home. I longed for the security of the house, even if it
was a prison for me. Never again I wanted to feel so utterly humiliated like
today. It couldn't be real that an eighteen year old man messed and wet his
diapers in front of a really hot cashier and got his diaper changed by his
Daddy afterwards.
How did that happen? How could he do that to me? Once again I realized the
hopelessness of my situation. Even if I could escape this house, I was still
imprisoned in this body. There was no way out.
"I think now you've realized that you'll be my little Eric forever.", Daddy
said when he saw the tears of desperation in my face.
He was right. It took me some time to realize that it was hopeless, but now I
knew that I couldn't escape him. I was totally at his mercy.
"I guess that you wouldn't even leave me, even if I gave you a choice. You
should have realized by now that you can't go anywhere. You can't even take
care of yourself. You need to be looked after and cared for 24/7. Who'd change
your dirty diapers or dress you?", he stated with incorruptible logic.
Once again I cried out loud as he rubbed in the evident.
"But don't worry. I'll be there for you. And I won't give you that choice to
leave me. For that you're too valuable to me.", he added.
"But, as you know by now, you have to do your part to earn my care. Just be
there for me when I need you. You're a quick learner, but you still have a lot
to learn. But we'll work that out. I'm quite sure of that.", he went on.
I couldn't stop crying.
"I'm curious, though. If I gave you the choice to leave the car right now and
promised that you'd never see me again, what would you do?", he asked.
I hated it when he asked such hypothetic questions. It was a lose-lose
situation. If I answered the wrong way he'd punish me, that was for sure. The
real question was: What is the right answer?
"No, Daddy.", I answered with a trembling voice.
"And you don't say that just to please me?", he inquired.
"No, Daddy. You're right! Where should I go? I'm totally dependent on your
help!", I sobbed desperately.
This crowned everything! This was the most humiliating thing he could do to
me. He just made me beg him to keep me!
But the real problem was that he was right! I couldn't leave him. I was
totally dependent on him.
"Very well. So you've just learned a very important lesson. I didn't expect it
to happen so fast, but then I didn't really leave you a choice, did I? I was
just curious how long it would take you to realize.", he said satisfied.
Obviously my answer was the right one. Even if I humiliated myself and felt
totally embarrassed, he wouldn't punish me.
Back at home he brought me in the kitchen and began to prepare the party.
"Maybe I should get me a maid that takes care of the house and you. A will-
less piece of flesh having nothing else on her mind other than reading all
wishes from my lips.", he murmured while he prepared the appetizers.
"There is still something like that?", I asked puzzled.
"Well, of course, nothing ordinary. There would be some work to do, but a
nice, slender, feminine boy would do, I think. I would have to train him for
sure.", he explained.
"A boy?"
"Of course. But he wouldn't stay male for long. It would take some hormones
and some surgeries. After that he wouldn't really look male any more.", he
said.
"But why this effort? Why don't get a woman in the first place?"
"Because I don't like women very much. They're too complicated. Some good
friends of mine are women, like Barbara, but relationships with women don't
work out for me. Maybe I'm too dominant, I don't know. But to train and
educate a boy is fun. Not that they have a choice.", he explained further.
I immediately felt sorry for that person. Being turned into a woman against
one's will was at least as bad as what he had done to me.
"I think I have to go searching again. I like the thought of having someone
taking care of the house. And she can look after you when I'm not around.", he
murmured.
After he finished the appetizers he brought me to my room.
"Since you're the guest of honor this evening, you have to look good.", he
said and put me onto the changing table.
He undressed me and cleaned me up. My diaper was soaking wet again. I had
given up even to try and control it. It was futile and didn't work.
Before he put me into clean diapers he unrolled a plastic sheet on the floor
and put me onto it.
"I don't want to withhold your wonderful tattoos from my guests.", he said.
Then he left the room and returned with a digital cam.
"Since you'll be wearing diapers this evening and I won't hide that fact, I'll
have to take photos from your cute ass and pee-pee.", he explained.
Then he took some pictures of me. First of my whole body, then close-ups of my
hands, crotch and butt. He didn't stop until the card of the camera was
filled.
During the photo shooting I had to pee badly.
"Daddy, I have to pee!", I whined but then it was already too late.
I heard the pee hitting the plastic sheet with a loud ripple. I began to cry
out of frustration and desperation again.
This couldn't be real! I really tried to hold it back, but it simply wouldn't
work! No matter how hard I tried, my bladder had its own will. I couldn't
control myself any more. When I realized that I had to go it was already too
late. I couldn't do anything about it. I could only let it happen and feel how
the pee worked its way out.
He didn't care at all.
"Wonderful! These pictures are really hot! It couldn't be better. Crying like
a baby and totally without control! My customers will definitely like that!",
he cheered.
Then he put me back onto the changing table.
I could clearly see the bulge in his pants. That meant just one thing.
"You made me horny again. How do you do that?", he said grinningly.
Then I felt how my ass got tighter.
He fucked me in the ass again. It hurt like it did the first time. And I knew
for sure that I wouldn't get used to this utterly humiliating feeling being
used as a toy boy ever.
Once again I was a sobbing wreck when he was finished with me and I had to
lick his dick clean.
Then he fiddled around in his pocket again and I felt my ass relax. It took
him some time to recover from his orgasm. After that he deleted some pictures
from the camera and took some from my asshole.
"I like this view. I'm getting horny again. Incredible, how my cum flows from
your useless ass! I can't imagine how I could live without that before.", he
said.
I felt something coming out of my ass without being able to do anything
against it.
Then he dressed me. Once again I had to wear these silly short-alls, the white
t-shirt and those ridiculous shoes.
"Perfect! This way I can show you off!", he said when he was finished.
"I'll go and take care of the guests. You stay here until I pick you up. I
don't want to explain everything twice. I'll introduce you when all guests
have arrived.", he explained.
"See you soon."
The Party
=========
While I was waiting for Daddy picking me up I heard the doorbell ring several
times. I didn't even remotely know what to expect. But I was quite sure that I
wouldn't like it.
I didn't know whether to be afraid or not. But then I had no choice. I had to
do what Daddy expected from me. I wasn't able to make my own decisions any
more.
When Daddy picked me up I was quite afraid and messed my diaper.
"No need to be afraid. They're all wonderful people!", he said grinningly.
"As wonderful as you?", I slipped.
"Exactly. I'll take that as a compliment. It was one, wasn't it?", he asked
sharply.
"Yes, Daddy!", I said with tears in my eyes.
"I thought so. Don't start crying now. You should look best when I introduce
you.", he added.
I managed to hold back the tears. He lead me into a part of the house I hadn't
seen before.
"Behave now!", he said sharply as we stood before a closed door.
Then he opened the door and led me into the room.
"My friends, let me introduce to you my newest creation: Eric!", he shouted
and pointed both his hands at me.
The room was a rather large hall being filled with a bunch of rather strange
people. Most of them were men, but there also were some women. I immediately
recognized Barbara in the crowd. Some of the men were dressed completely in
leather, others were dressed quite ordinarily.
Almost every man had a slave. Some knelt at the feet of their master, and some
stood behind their master. Some slaves had a metal collar around their neck
attached to which was a chain held by the master. And all of the slaves looked
rather unhappy. I wasn't able to look all of them in the eyes, because some
looked at the floor. But all those eyes I could look into showed clearly that
they didn't choose their life as slave.
I guessed that they were Daddy's creations.
Then I saw a maid roaming the hall with a tablet full of drinks. She was
unbelievable! She had giant tits with pierced nipples. Her waist was
incredibly small and flared out into a huge ass. Her legs seemed to be endless
and she wore shoes with really high heels. I wondered how she could even walk
in them.
But as I took a closer look I realized that she didn't really wear shoes. She
had metal discs under her toes being held in place by metal rings around her
toes. And those incredibly high heels disappeared right into her feet! The
heels seemed to be implanted into her feet!
Then I looked into her face. Despite her constant smile I could tell the it
didn't express her real mood. She seemed to be as miserable as sin. She had
big, blue eyes with a whorish make-up. Her lips were full, pouty and deeply
red. This whole appearance screamed: "Let me give you a blow job".
Though I knew that she definitely didn't look that way by her own choice I
became horny instantly. I couldn't control it. She looked like my dream woman.
These extraordinary tits and her cute face were just gorgeous. Every man would
get horny seeing her.
My problem was that I couldn't release this desire any more. I became horny as
hell, but nothing happened in my diaper. Absolutely nothing moved down there.
By now I should feel a huge boner in my diaper, but nothing happened. I nearly
began to cry when I realized that I peed my diaper instead.
I stared at her and began to rub my diaper. But again nothing happened. I
rubbed harder, but it was futile. Nothing stirred down there. Absolutely
nothing. My tiny dick stayed as tiny as it was. I didn't even feel the
beginning of an erection, no matter how hard I rubbed.
"... and of course his only purpose is to please me. He can't cum any more,
like a real eleven year not having started puberty. As you can see right now.
Eric, behave yourself!", I heard Daddy say.
Only then I realized that I tried to masturbated in front of all this people!
"As you can see further, he seems to like women. I guess you enjoyed the sight
of our maid for this evening. By the way, her name is Chrissie. I'll introduce
you to her later.", Daddy explained as I pulled my hand from my diaper
appalled.
"I hope that this was the first and last time you slipped this evening.
Otherwise I'll have to punish you harshly.", Daddy scolded.
While Daddy explained about my features further, I let my eyes wander again.
Then I saw a creature at the feet of his master. I didn't believe my eyes and
was scared to death immediately. How could someone do such a thing to another
human?
This creature resembled a dog. A dog formed from a human body.
His mouth wasn't a mouth any more, it was more like a muzzle. His mouth had
been elongated into a snout and had a round opening at the end. I guessed that
his master's dick fit perfectly into that hole.
Above the snout he had two round spiracles which once were his nose. His nose
was completely missing. His snout started where it once had been.
I looked into very troubled, deeply miserable and blue eyes leaving no doubt
that he didn't choose his predicament. But the snout wasn't the worst.
His arms had been amputated at the elbows, and his knees at the knees. He had
been transformed into a true quadruped! And there was something attached to
his stubs that closely resembled paws.
Between his legs I recognized a rather large and and elongated scrotum, but
there was no trace of a penis!
And at his tail bone small dog tail protruded from his body.
And of course he had a steel dog collar around his neck, with a leash attached
to it being held by his master.
This had to be a very bad dream. How could someone do such a thing so someone
else? I was quite sure that this creature was Daddy's work. The longer I
thought about it I considered me lucky that he didn't do anything like that to
me!
"... and of course he is at everyone's service this evening. You may also use
his cute little ass, but when you do I have to insist that you clean him up
before and diaper him again afterwards. Otherwise it could get quite messy. As
I said, he can't control himself anymore. Otherwise: have fun today!", I heard
Daddy say.
Then the crowd applauded.
"For you that means to read everyone's wish from their lips. If they want you
to give them a blow job or lick them out, you'll do it without hesitation. If
they want to fuck you, you'll bring them to your room so they can change you
afterwards. You don't hesitate or show the slightest sign of disobedience, is
that understood?", Daddy said.
Of course that wasn't a question, it was an order. Of course I understood.
"Yes, Daddy.", I whined.
"Good, then let me introduce you to Chrissie and his master. You seem to like
her.", he said and approached a man dressed in leather completely.
"Hello, John! How are you?"
"Very good, thank you. Your little Eric here is a real piece of art. Very well
done! Congratulations!"; he replied.
"Thank you. I'm quite thrilled myself."
"Well, I really like this ring for the asshole. But do you really have to make
them incontinent for that? My Chrissie has become quite loose recently. So I'm
interested.", asked John.
"Yes, unfortunately, if you want it perfect. I know, this incontinence thing
isn't really nice, though it was quite convenient in my case. Well, I'm still
working on that. But there are alternatives: How about a butt plug? Your
Chrissie would feel it with every move she makes, always being reminded to
what she really is. The plug has to be rather large, but with the ring that
wouldn't be a problem at all. She'd always as tight as you want and love
her.", Daddy explained.
"Hm, I haven't thought about it this way, but I like it. That would make her
even more dependent on me. And from time to time I plug her anyway, so no big
deal there. She'd just have to wear it 24/7. Nice idea!", John replied.
"How about you ask her what she thinks about it.", Daddy said.
"Good idea. I guess she'll love it.", John stated and grinned broadly.
Then he picked a remote control from his pocket and pressed a button. It
seemed that all of Daddy's creations where remote controlled. It didn't take
her long to join us.
"You called for me, master?", she cheeped.
Her voice was ridiculously high. That couldn't be natural.
"Of course I did. How would you like such a ring like our little Eric is
blessed with?", John asked.
I could see the horror in her eyes, but she didn't stop smiling.
"It would be a pleasure, master!", she said still smiling.
She was well trained. I guessed it had something to do with excruciating pain.
"Good, then I'll make an appointment with the Doctor. I have to say, you're
not as tight as you once were. But that will be fixed soon.", John explained.
"Thank you, master! I can't live with the thought that you aren't satisfied
with me any more!", she bleeped.
"Very well. Now go and take care of the customers.", John ordered.
"Yes, master.", she said and disappeared with the tablet again.
John stared at her while she left, and I could see a bulge form in his pants.
"I still can't believe that this piece of shit once was a man. Great work you
did there. I'm still wondering how you did that. I bet he didn't expect that
when he signed his freedom away to me.", John said casually.
"Does it matter how I did it if you have fun with her?", Daddy asked.
"Chrissie once was a man?", I asked unbelievingly.
"Of course. But John had other ideas. Chrissie thought she'd agree to a normal
master/slave relationship. Unfortunately she made a big mistake there. John
asked me what I could do with him and you can see the result.", Daddy
explained.
"Exactly. I like women's bodies, but I don't like women themselves very much.
They're too complicated. I prefer a personal slave exactly fitting my needs.",
John added.
"But he looks so feminine...", I said.
"Of course, but rest assured, he still has his balls. He's missing his useless
prick, unfortunately for him, but instead of that he got a vagina. And he's
keeping John very happy with his cunt, doesn't she?", Daddy explained.
"A real vagina?", I asked still not getting it.
"Sure. I bet he didn't even dream of that. Like he didn't think that he'd once
have such beautiful feet.", Daddy added.
"What did you do to his feet?", I asked.
"Well, I attached the heels directly to the bones in his feet. It wasn't easy,
but it was definitely worth it. He won't get rid of these high heels, unless
he amputates his feet."
"Precisely. An ingenious idea. But before I let you put Chrissie under again,
I'd like to check what I'm buying. May I?", John asked.
"Of course. Don't hesitate. But as I said, I'm afraid you have to diaper him
again. But if he didn't mess himself you may reuse the old diaper.", Daddy
said.
"Good, I can live with that. Did you mess your diaper, Eric?", John asked me.
"No!", I whined.
"Good. I'm really excited!"
"Let me bring you both into his room. Please be so kind and return him when
you're finished. He's totally stranded and utterly helpless without an adult
around. I can't have him wander the house alone.", Daddy explained.
"Of course, no problem."
Then Daddy led John and me to my room. John put me on the changing table and
undressed me after Daddy left.
When I laid totally naked on the changing table he pressed the button on the
remote control. Once again I felt my asshole getting tighter.
"These tattoos are really hot. Maybe Chrissie should have such, also. I like
them.", he grunted.
Then he put me into position and pushed his quite large dick up my ass. He
fucked the brains out of me and enjoyed it big time. When he was finished I
licked his dick clean without him saying a word. By now that happened
automatically.
"Good boy! You are indeed incredible. Your Daddy didn't exaggerate!", he
murmured while I did my job.
Then he diapered me again and led me back to the hall.
"And, how did he behave? And more important, how did he perform?", Daddy
asked.
"Perfect! As always you've trained him well. He even licked my dick clean
without saying a word. You get the job. I'll tell Chrissie right away.", John
replied and fiddled around with his own remote.
Again it didn't take Chrissie long to join us.
"You called for me, master?", she bleeped again.
"I have decided to let Dr. Slayter do the procedure. You'll get a ring around
your asshole, also. This way you can serve me even better.", John said.
"Thank you, master!", she replied.
I looked her in the eyes while she said that and could see that she was
terrified by that thought, even though she was smiling.
"Very well. I didn't expect anything else. But there's one thing I hope you
won't mind. It means that you'll have to wear a huge butt plug for the rest of
your life. But that won't be a problem, will it?", he added.
"No master, I'm really excited about that!", she cheeped, though I could see
in her eyes that she was truly horrified.
"Good. Then take care of the guests again. Get you gone!"
"Yes, master!", she said, still smiling and disappeared in the crowd.
"Good. I'll call you to make an appointment. I'd appreciate it if it wouldn't
take too long."
"No problem. I'll expect your call. Then we'll can get it done inside one
week.", Daddy replied.
Then John left.
"What did you do to Chrissie's face? I could see that she's scared to death!",
I asked.
"Quite simple. She can only smile like an air-headed bimbo. I've modified the
muscles in her face in such a way that she isn't capable to express any other
facial expression any more. Just grinning.", he explained.
Just thinking about that made me wince.
"But now that you know Chrissie and her master, let me introduce you to Maggie
and his master.", Daddy said.
"Aside from you Maggie is my masterpiece."
Then he went towards the man with this dog like creature at his feet.
"Hello, Lee, how are you?", Daddy greeted him.
"Fine, thank you."
"And how is my Maggie?", Daddy asked.
"Way too fine for such a treacherous piece of shit. But I think he has learned
his lesson, don't you?", Lee said.
Hereupon Maggie grunted and pushed her snout into Lee's crotch.
"It seems she needs some attention. Would you like to feel a hard, thick,
throbbing real man's dick into your cunt? Or in your ass? Or your snout?", Lee
said.
Maggie whined shortly like she was in pain, but still sniffed at Lee's crotch.
"Good girl. But you'll have to wait a little until it's your turn.", Lee said.
I wondered why he called him girl. I pulled my hand from Daddy's and took a
look at Maggie's behind. He had a vagina between his balls and his asshole!
And he even had a clitoris!
What did Daddy do to him?
I couldn't resist and touched her clitoris and this quite misplaced sac. The
sac didn't fit the picture at all. As I touched her, the whole body
immediately began to tremble, and then she howled out shortly again.
"Eric, where are you manners?", Daddy scolded.
"Sorry, Daddy.", I cried and returned to his side.
"What did you do to him?", I dared to ask.
"This piece of shit tried to betray his master. And now he's paying the price.
It thought it could behave like a bitch, and so I turned it into one.", Daddy
said.
"Exactly. It is getting what it deserves.", Lee added.
"Actually, I didn't do very much to him. As you can see, it can only crawl on
all fours in front of his master, but that's only natural for such low beings.
I gave it a real snout perfectly fitting the dick of his master. And Lee was
so kind to grant him a real cunt. For that I needed something to work with, so
it's pathetic dick had to go, unfortunately. Because of this, it won't cum
ever again in his life, just like you. A pity it was allowed to keep it's
balls.", Daddy explained further.
"Exactly. This piece of shit is now stuck in super horny mode forever and
can't wait to give me a blow job. That's what she likes most. But she also
likes to feel me inside her other orifices. She's a true whore, now. And she
really deserves it. I'm still wondering how he got the idea trying to betray
me.", Lee said.
"Well, now Maggie knows the price for that, don't you?", he said to her and
stroked her head.
She howled again and I saw tears forming in her eyes.
"I have to admit, this ring sounds quite exciting. But I don't like the
incontinence.", Lee said.
In that moment I saw sheer horror in Maggie's eyes.
"I have to admit, the incontinence is a problem. But how about a butt plug? It
just has to be big enough. And our Maggie is well trained, isn't she? She only
shits into her cage or when you allow it, right?", Daddy replied.
"There you're right. And a butt plug isn't such a bad idea. You'll get used to
it, won't you, Maggie?", he asked her.
Maggie cried from sheer horror and I could see the fear in her eyes.
"I didn't expect anything else. I bet you're looking forward to that.", John
said after this little outcry.
"But I'd like to have a test ride before I order it. May I?", he asked Daddy.
"Of course. Eric is pleased to help you with that, aren't you? But as I said,
I have to insist that you diaper him afterwards. But in your case I'd make an
exception and do it for you.", Daddy offered.
"No, thank you. I just want to feel what I buy."
"Very well, then have fun!"
Then Daddy led me to my room again and left me with a complete stranger.
He used me like a piece of flesh and fucked me real hard. After his
penetrations I cried like a baby, but he didn't care. He was quite pleased
with me and took me back to the hall.
"Thank you for watching Maggie. He was outright incredible. I really want that
for her. You have the order. And if her ass stays so unbelievably tight
forever I have to think about her cunt again. I can't see that she still needs
one under that circumstances. But I think you can help me with that.", he said
to Daddy when he brought me back.
Once again I could see sheer horror in Maggie's eyes and she cried again.
"You see, she also likes that thought.!", John mocked and stroked her head.
"Good, then we should make an appointment soon.", Daddy replied.
"Exactly. Can't you see the joy in Maggie's eyes? She can't await it." John
grinned.
I could read the exact opposite in Maggie's eyes, but then she also had no
choice. Just like me. And she didn't choose this life, either.
Then John turned away and tugged at Maggie's leash.
"Well, Maggie really is a masterpiece of mine. Even if she tried, she wouldn't
be able to walk upright any more. I changed her joints permanently. It's
physically impossible for her now. And I think I did rather good with the
snout, don't you? She'll be a bitch in heat for the rest of her life.", Daddy
explained as John went away.
I was used as a sperm deposit all evening long. I was fucked by nearly
everyone in the hall. Daddy introduced me to everyone, and every single of
them wanted to get a test ride on me.
Well, all but the women. I was quite surprised when Barbara asked Daddy if she
could take me to my room. I thought I had to lick her out, but instead she
fisted me. And that was even more painful than being fucked. When all guests
were gone, sperm was constantly flowing out of my ass.
Even Daddy was turned down when he saw that. He prepared me for the night and
put me into my own bed. He didn't want to have me near him this night.
Epilogue
========
All that happened five years ago. I am still his little Eric. I haven't cum or
even felt a trace of an approaching orgasm since. I'm constantly horny like
hell. It doesn't help at all that Daddy fucks me or sometimes plays with my
tiny penis. I'm constantly feeling this pressure and desire, and I can't do
anything against it.
I'm still not used to messing and wetting my diaper. And I'm still not used to
the fact that I'm totally helpless without him and completely dependent on
him. I can't even change my own diaper without him.
Meanwhile Daddy has trained me to swallow his piss, even though I can clearly
remember that I vowed never ever to do that. But I vowed so much...
I am Daddy's little Eric, and nothing will change that. Well, except he's
displeased with my services and sells me...
* * * |
Hannah and Her Scissors | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES | Hannah is great at releaving tension. | ` HANNAH AND HER SISSORS `
Hannah had purchased a really fine Arkansas whetstone and was sharpening her
concave branch cutters as she sat in her cubicle waiting for her next client.
The concave cutters were an expensive indulgence, made in Japan, hand forged,
the steel would take and unbelievably sharp cutting edge. They are used by
gardeners to remove branches so that when the tree heals the wound will be
flush with the tree bark. They also have other use as you shall see.
Hannah was a failed Pennsylvania Dutch girl from Lancaster County. While not
New York or L.A. the lure of Philadelphia had been too much for her when she
was eighteen, and she had succumbed to its charms versus a marriage and
family. Her family had disowned her. Things had not gone well for the first
few years, she got into the crack cocaine thing, got addicted and got arrested
for soliciting. After a stint in rehab, and clerking in a convenience store
while on probation she went to work in a massage parlor in nearby Cherry Hill
(actually Pennsauken, but who has heard of it). It was easy work, a little
rubbing a couple if flicks of the wrist and she made two grand a week. The
occasional female client required a little fingering to compete the half-hour
but that was okay.
In a different time Hannah would have been described as ‘sturdy’ her features
were regular, her hair an attractive color, but nobody would mistake her for
one of the anorexic waifs that grace magazine covers today. While she was a
little off center, both by nature and drugs, she still had a lot of that
pragmatic farm girl attitude towards problems.
She had a nice little apartment in downtown Philly, keeping work and home
separated, and a burgeoning collection of miniature trees, so far an azalea, a
mandarin orange, and her latest acquisition a lemon tree. The trees would
appreciate the sharpness of he cutters.
(Authors Note: I shall not try to imitate the Penn. Dutch accent, even though
I have heard it for years in Penn, New York and even Tenn. So to get the feel
of it when you see a ‘v’ pronounce it as an ‘f’ and when you see a ‘w’
pronounce it as a ‘v’. That should give you the flavor of the speech.)
The little buzzer in her cubicle rang disturbing her reverie, and alerting her
that she had a client.
“Hello Tommy, back so soon?”
“Yes” blushed Tom Daugherty, “just can’t seem to get enough of your hands.”
“Well Tommy, not that I don’t like you or your business, but first it was once
a month, then twice a month, and now twice a week, this must be putting a
drain on your wallet.”
“It is” as he disrobed and hopped on the massage table, “but I need it, and
the more I try to resist the more I need to come here for release.”
“How can you afford it, your not all that wealthy are you?”
“Well” Tommy replied as Hannah begin to knead his thighs bringing the erection
he wanted to get rid of, “ have been using credit cards, and am just about
tapped out and over limit.”
“That is going to be kind of hard on your wife and children isn’t it?”
“Yes, but it seems almost like an addiction, maybe they should have a twelve
step program for sex addicts.”
“Tommy I know a lot about addictions, this is not cocaine or alcohol, it goes
much deeper than that. Are you still schtupping your wife?”
Yes, at least twice a week.”
“That is amazing, and still you come here for me to get you off by hand. You
have a little problem, you are too impatient. You are not letting the tension
build to a high enough level. All pleasure Tommy, is based on tension and
release, the more tension the more release. You have the tension of sinning,
then the release of redemption. You have a hard-on, tension, then and
ejaculation, release. What you really need to is a defining moment of tension
and then a total release.”
Just about that time Tommy shot all over his belly from Hannah’s quick hands,
and he breathed a sign of relief.
“It was nice of you to stop by again Tommy. Here is my card with my home
number; the parlor lets me treat special clients like you in my apartment. Let
the tension accumulate for a while, and I will give you a special treatment at
home. Now, it will be expensive $2000, cash only no credit cards, but I
guarantee it will release all of the tension from you and hold you for years
and years. Your wife will appreciate it also, since you will be quite happy to
stay at home with her forever.”
Tommy placed the card in his wallet as he dressed. “Maybe you are right
Hannah, maybe I should try to hold back for a couple of weeks or a month on
the massages and hand jobs. What day is best to call you for your special
treatment?”
“Sundays are best, say 2PM, this is a much longer treatment than this massage
business, so plan to be there six to eight hours, depending on how permanent
you want the treatment to be.”
“Great, you will hear from me, after I wait a couple of weeks and get the
money together.” And he was gone.
“Well” wondered Hannah, “how long will it be before he calls me, if betting
weren’t forbidden I would say Sunday in 10 days.”
Hannah would have lost the bet, as it took twenty-four days for Tommy to call.
It was not a matter of self-control, it took him that long to beg, borrow and
steal the two grand from the household budge.
It was exactly 2PM when Hannah’s phone range. She was still in her bunny
slippers and robe tending her trees. “Hello Tommy how nice to hear from you.
Have you decided to have your tension released?”
“Yes, I have the money, now you said you would guarantee this would calm me
done for a good long while.”
“Oh yes Tommy, it will be a long, long time before you have any tension in you
again.”
Hannah, of course, had an unlisted number, she gave Tommy the address, he said
will be there at three and she agreed. Sure enough at three there he was
grinning and shuffling at her apartment door.
They took care of business first, he pressed into her hand $2000, which she
immediately sequestered under he mattress.
“First Tommy I want you to know that I am clean. We are going to exchange a
lot of bodily fluids today and I don’t want you to worry. My blood and urine
have been tested both for drugs and HIV and I am totally free of disease. I
also took a sample of your semen from your last visit and had it analyzed you
are also in good shape.”
“Gee I hadn’t even thought about that” was Tommy’s response.
“You see Tommy, that is why you need to get rid of all this tension you have,
you are not thinking clearly, like they said about the last president you are
thinking with the wrong head. After today’s session you will think much more
clearly. Now, show me pictures of your wife and children.”
“What!”
“I want to see your family, and this will help you release the tension at the
end of out little get together.”
“Well, okay.” Tommy pulled out his wallet and showed Hannah pictures of two
very charming little girls and an attractive red haired wife.
“Oh Tommy the girls are so precious, and your wife is very pretty. If you want
I will give you back your money and you can go home, as you should.”
“No, I need the treatment.”
“Then you stay of your own free will?”
“Yes.”
“Well then let us get our clothes off and go into the bedroom where we will
begin.”
Hannah grabbed the concave cutters and followed Tommy into the bedroom, where
they both proceeded to undress. Ever the practical German, Hannah pointed
Tommy to the bathroom to relieve himself. Much to his embarrassment she
watched him urinate, shake it off and dry the end.
She produced two tablets and a glass of water. “Tommy I don’t think twenty
four days is enough time for you to build all the tension you need, so here
are two Viagra tablets, this will make sure that you really have some tension
before you get release. Take them then lie down on the bed.”
Naked Hannah was nothing short of a Rubinesque goddess, large breasts, curved
waist, ssexy round little belly and a magnificent growth of pubic hair that
made Tommy drool. All he could think of was how much he wanted to bury his
face in that mass of hair, maybe even smoother him.
Hannah knelt beside him on the bed and begin to massage his body. “Tommy, this
is just to get you to relax a little until the Viagra does its work. You know
you don’t last all that long at the shop.”
“Yes, funny isn’t it, sort of the Irish Curse, small dick and I can’t last
long. All I need to complete it is to become a drunk.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, you were man enough to give your wife two
beautiful daughters. I want you to be thinking about them as we get to the
point of release, how pretty they are and how much you love them. Remember the
old saying ‘A son is a son till he takes a wife, but a daughters a daughter
for the rest of your life.’ When they get older they will take care of you and
protect you like a pair of tigresses.”
Hannah then retrieved a strange looking instrument from the dresser, sort like
a caulking gun that had been run over by a car. She place a rubber tubing in
it then a metal clip.
“This Tommy is an elastrator, it is used by farmers to fix their animals and
relieve the animals tensions. I am going to put a band on that beautiful
erection you now have, so that it will not disappear in 30 seconds like it
does at the shop. You won’t be able to ejaculated so the tension will build.”
Tommy being a city boy did not fully understand the meaning of Hannah’s words
but
nodded his ascent.
“See Tommy, that is why I had you pee first, you won’t be able to pee again
until the session is over.” Hannah went back to the dresser and reloaded the
elastrator. “Now a similar restrain around your balls, I am still young and
fertile, and don’t want any of your sperm giving me a little surprise. This
will be a little uncomfortable at first, but after a couple of minutes you
will be numb and it will add to the tension.” Hannah milked his scrotum down
and banded him up as far up as she could get the rubber tubing, she could see
immediately that it had been effective, the sack started to turn gray.
Tommy still did not grasp the significance of the banding, he only knew the
tension was mounting. Uncomfortable at first, after a minute or two the
discomfort in his balls went away.
Then Hannah went to work re-leaving her tensions. She mounted him and fucked
him until he tried to cum. Then she reversed positions, sat on his face until
he gave her an orgasm with his tongue. Nice and relaxed now she lay on top of
him and blew him until he tried to cum again, the tension was building.
Indulging in a little fantasy, Hannah then took him up her ass, and fucked him
until he tired to come again. Ever the clean and careful German girl, she got
up and washed her ass, and his prick before continuing.
“Well, Tommy, you must really be getting frustrated now, the tension in you
must be incredible.” As she spoke these words she was jerking him off for his
fourth frustrated ejaculation. As she stroked his member, she moved his now
cold gonads up and down the shaft with her other hand. As his spasms subsided
she removed her hand from his cock and begin to stroke his cheek. “Poor little
Tommy, he is all swelled up and no place to go, or cum. Tell me do you lick
your wife like you just did me?”
“Yes”
“Does she enjoy it, does she pull your head into her cunt and rub it all over
your face squeeze your head as she comes.”
“Yes she really likes that, then I hop on top and she really responds.”
Squeezing his balls Hannah said: “You know Tommy you could still eat her like
that if you didn’t have these.”
“Are you out of your fucking mind, that would ruin me!!!!!!!!.”
“No Tommy, it would relieve the tension. Tell me do you plan to have any more
children?”
“No, we figured the two girls would be a handful, so my wife had her tubes
tied.”
“Then what do you need them for, all they are doing is causing you to waste
your time, your money, and neglect your family.”
“Hell, I want to stay a man, that’s what I need them for.”
“Well, what about being a good father and a loving husband, you certainly are
not being that now you?”
“Jeeze this is a crazy conversation, it has no point.”
“You are right Tommy, you don’t have enough tension yet.” With that she
remounted his still stiff member and began to fuck him one more time. This
time it took about twenty minutes before he tried cum again, once again the
fluids were trapped and building up. He had a strange thought that maybe cum
would shoot out of nose at any moment.
“Your daughters, five and seven I think you said. How, long before they turn
from little girls into little ladies and start smelling good and parading
around in their night clothes getting daddy all excited. Then they sit on your
lap and you cannot control yourself and you get a hard-on with your little
girls. What are you going to do, fuck them, make them suck you off?”
“Hannah, that is truly sick. Of course not they are my daughters for Christ
sake.”
Grabbing his now completely gray balls she said: “Tommy these have no
conscious, if you keep on as you are, you will be bankrupt, and you will turn
these on your daughters. See these,” holding up the concave cutters, “one
little snip and you will be the perfect father to your daughters and a loving
devoted husband to your wife.”
“NOOOOOO WAY.”
“Oh Tommy, don’t get so excited, it is not that big a deal, you aren’t that
big and your aren’t that great a lover. Your wife won’t miss them, she would
be just as happy to have you go down on her.”
“How do you know that?”
“She told me. I called her and we had a long conversation about you and your
habits and how you seemed to be getting worse. While she likes sex, and
doesn’t want to give if up, she said you were better at eating her out, than
at fucking, and it was perfectly okay if you sex life consisted of her sitting
on your face whenever she was horney.”
“You talked to my wife, oh god.”
“Of course Tommy, I couldn’t allow a nice young man like you to ruin his life,
by loosing his job and his family. That is what is going to happen you know.
Now, when you are ready, I will take the band off your cock, and blow you
until all that tension drains out of you. Then when the last little drop is
out I will snip your balls off, you will only feel a little sting, as they are
very numb now from the band. What do you say Tommy, just like on the farm, let
me geld you.”
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOO.”
“Come on Tommy, it won’t hurt, let me cut your balls off for you.”
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOO”
“It will be so nice where you will be, no tension just peace and quiet. Let me
do you Tommy, let me emasculate you, I promise you will cum like you never
have before in your life.”
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOO”
“Be thankful Tommy” Hannah said as she grabbed his cock “I asked your wife if
she wanted this removed, but she said you could keep it.”
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOO”
“I am so sorry Tommy, but you paid me $2000 to relieve your tension. Your wife
paid me $5000 to remove your balls. She is the highest bidder so she gets the
prize.
She is tired of you wasting your time and money on massage parlors,
pornography and all those things.”
“I’ll divorce her, I’ll get a mean Philadelphia Lawyer and get custody of the
kids and she will never see the girls again.”
“Tommy, I am afraid that door has been closed for you. Your wife ruled out a
divorce she loves you, although I cannot understand why. But, in order for you
to stay together you and your balls have to be separated. Oh, so there are no
hard feelings, I was the one that brought up castrating you. Your wife is a
city person like you and had never heard of it before or the benefits it would
have for her family. When I explained the procedures and the benefits she
agreed that this was the ideal solution for your tension. Remember I told you
I grew up on a farm, we did this to the horses and the bulls to make them
easier to get along with. Now of course we never did the men, but we should
have. Think about it this way, you have your children; you don’t need your
balls. You have your wife, she loves you, and she will love you without your
balls. Your wife is a young woman, but with the family she will be perfectly
content to sit on your face when she needs relief. If ever there was a man
that needed castrating, emasculating, altered and his balls cut off, it is you
Tommy.”
“NOOOOOOOO”
“Tommy, you are getting tiresome. It won’t hurt, and you will be so much
calmer and happier afterwards. You will be home every evening you will play
with your daughters like a good father should, and later on in the evening
your wife will sit on your face. It will be an idyllic life for you no more
tension. One more thing you should know, cutting them off is just neatening
up, the band has been on for over two hours now, and your balls are already
dead. Cutting them off is just a way to prevent blood clots, they would fall
off by themselves in a week or so.”
“NOOOOOOOO.”
“I am truly sorry you feel that way Tommy, but they have to go. Now be a good
boy and cooperate. Now the tie is going to come off your cock and I am going
to suck you until you cum one last time. With all this tension built up, this
will be the orgasm to last you a lifetime.
Hannah, cut the tie on Tommy’s dick and begin to suck. Needless to say Tommy
held back as long as he could, but the five fuckings, suckings and handjobs
had built him up to the point that .45 pistol at his head wouldn’t have
stopped him.
Hannah had the branch cutters in position as the cum filled her mouth, she let
it run out and down his cock.
“What do you say Tommy, you have got one more thrust to clean you out, are you
ready?”
“Yes”
“Yes what?”
“Go ahead”
“Go ahead and what.”
Real quite: “Castrate me.”
“Castrate you?”
“Yes, alter me.”
“Why Tommy?”
“So, I will get rid of my tension and be a good husband and father.”
“Tommy, I can’t hear you, what is you want me to do now?”
Just a bit louder: “Go ahead and emasculate me.”
“Oh poor little Tommy you will have to say what you want louder than that.”
“CUT MY FUCKING BALLS OFF!!!!!”
“You didn’t say please.”
“Oh Hannah, I can’t take any more tension, cut them off, please.”
“This is the release you have needed, your defining moment, enjoy it Tommy,
you are going to be so happy.” Hannah closed her grip on the branch cutters
and his balls fell to the bed. She continued to suck him, until his erection
subsided and he ceased to ejaculate.
She was right he thought it just stung a little and he had never cum like that
before and never would again.
Later that evening Hannah sat at her computerized videotape-editing machine
preparing a tape for Tommy’s wife. She would also sell copies on the Internet
through a blind box for $1000 apiece. This stuff is not what you will find in
your local adult book store.
Tommy was sore for about a month, the little metal band dropped off and he
could go but not cum as he pleased. He wasn’t angry or depressed, he just felt
strange.
Segue a month later. At the Daugherty house the mailman delivers a carefully
wrapped cardboard box with a video inside. Mrs. Daugherty runs to the VCR and
runs the tape; the girls are in school, good thing too. Mrs. Daugherty gets
wet when she hears and sees the tape, she keeps watching the ending where
Tommy’s balls drop to bed over and over again, getting wetter and wetter. “Why
is that man not home” she said to herself as she started to masturbate, “he is
never around when I really need him.” When scene appeared where Tommy screamed
at Hannah and begged her to cut his balls off Mrs. Daugherty came all over the
couch, lost control of her bladder and sphincter, she stained the couch so bad
it had to be cleaned. Tommy would have died of embarrassment if he had known
his wife was showing the tape to all of her girl friends. Many of them decided
that as soon as they could raise five large, they would send their husbands to
Hannah for tension relief.
So, now twice a week Tommy lays down on the bed, and his wife mount his face,
he eats her gently, sweetly and thoroughly as she watches the tape one more
time. When the tape is near the end and Tommy screams to be unmanned, she cums
and cums and cums, one of these nights she is going to suffocate poor Tommy
with her pussy. She never tires of it, after all by cutting his balls off she
got her husband back. By the way once in a while when she is cuming she looses
her bladder and sphincter control, Tommy just doesn’t seem to mind, and he
cleans up easier then the couch did. There is no tension left in Philly.
NOTE: Just in case you were wondering why Tommy just didn’t get up and walk
out, try 200 mg of Viagra sometime.
Second point let me know if you want to hear more of Hannah’s concave cutters.
* * * |
BLINCOE’S CASEBOOK:- 1) THE CROSS MURDERS 6 | GAY, WARNING, TESTICLES, MINOR | Investigations continue! | ` BLINCOE’S CASEBOOK:- 1) THE CROSS MURDERS `
By Pueros
Chapter 6 – Investigations
(m/b/b, tort, rape, oral, anal, BD, CBT, SNUFF)
(August 1999, London, England)
DCS Blincoe was in his office at New Scotland Yard with DCI Burrows. “Let me
summarise,” the DCS said unhappily, “we can still find nothing other than
their physical and age characteristics, and the fact that their national flags
display crosses of one kind or another, to link all three murder victims and
the missing Dane. The Scottish and Swiss lads were both boy scouts but there
seems to be nothing connecting the two scout groups. Are you sure that they’ve
not attended an international jamboree at the same time or shared a scout
master?” “Yes, sir,” answered Burrows, “we’ve checked and double-checked.
Other than the fact that they’re both part of the international scouting
movement, we’ve found no ties.” “Damn,” declared Blincoe, “I’m still convinced
there’s something linking all four.”
“I’ve brought the files on each of the boys,” Burrows informed his superior,
“in case you want to read them yourself.” Blincoe accepted the documents and,
after grumpily dismissing his DCI, started to read them. Two hours later he
recalled Burrows to his office. “Found something that might link the other two
boys,” announced the DCS, whilst standing next to a large wall map of Britain.
“Per’s maternal grandparents, as we know, come from Thimblewick in
Gloucestershire,” he continued; “Well, Michael’s file says that his paternal
grandparents live in another tiny hamlet, Chissleton in Worcestershire.” “Yes
I know,” said the DCI; “what of it?” “Ah, but did you also know,” replied
Blincoe rhetorically, smiling and pointing to the map, “that the villages are
only a mile apart, either side of the county boundary in the heart of the
Cotswolds?”
(Same time, somewhere in England)
Per slept soundly overnight for he had been injected via his left buttock with
a strong tranquilliser. Unknown to him, his wounds were also tended a couple
more times during the night as it was essential that he had recovered
sufficiently from the traumas of the investiture ceremony for him to provide a
good performance at the satanic service scheduled for the forthcoming evening.
In fact, he would receive excellent care, for the various damage that would be
inflicted on his body daily for the next 27 days, from a fully qualified
doctor of medicine.
Per was woken mid-morning by the same two boy acolytes whom he had first
encountered in his cell the previous day. His body was still face down on the
bed and the two 12 years olds had cherished the sight of the two black
pentagrams branded onto each of the 14 years old bumcheeks before shaking the
young Dane to consciousness. “Welcome back to the world of the living,” said
the more forthright and sadistic of the two with a smirk; “please turn over.
We’ve been admiring your new brandmarks and want to see your new piercings. I
have the handset with me, so I suggest that you obey all of my commands.” Per
reluctantly and slowly complied. His bum was still very sore and not just from
his branding for his anus hurt as a result of his deflowering. The three
piercings were also discomforting.
The 12 years old handed the handset to the other boy and then fiddled with the
three little gold pentagrams dangling from Per’s nipples and navel, causing
the young Dane to wince with pain. However, there was an embarrassing reaction
underneath his semen-stained thong, which was seen by the acolyte, who
observed “I said yesterday that you were a slut and you’re proving me right
again.”
“We weren’t formally introduced yesterday,” the 12 years old continued, “I’m
Cycnus and this is Hyacinthus, acolytes to our great Satanic lord, Diabolus,
and now, as it’s our turn, newly appointed crucifers to you, newly invested
tribute to our great Satanic lord!” Per wondered what a crucifer was but knew
that he dared not ask. “Cycnus and Hyacinthus are not our real names, of
course,” the boy declared; “you don’t need to know them and you’ll know from
the book you’ve read that when you are permitted to address us you do not use
these sacred pseudonyms but another word. You do know don’t you? You may
speak!” The 14 years old Per blushed and answered “Yes, sir” to the younger
boy. “Good, the slut’s showing us proper respect,” the crucifer commented to
his companion, before returning his attention to Per and announcing “Now,
slut, we’ve been kind enough to bring you something to eat.”
The young Dane saw that a full three-course meal had been delivered on a tray
and placed on his bedside table. However, he did not feel hungry, even though
it had been over 24 hours since he had eaten a light breakfast at his
grandparent’s holiday cottage. “You’re to eat it all up,” declared Cycnus, “or
I’m afraid that I’ll have to press the pain button until you do. This morning
meal will be the only food you’ll receive each day so it’s important that none
is wasted. It provides all the daily sustenance you’ll need to keep healthy
for we don’t want you to become fat through over-eating. The intake is timed
so that later enemas should flush most of the resultant waste away from your
rectum, which needs to be kept clean for the sort of uses you experienced for
the first time last night.” Per shivered when this last phrase was uttered.
“After you’ve eaten,” Cyncus continued, “I want to place your dirty thong on
the tray as it’ll have to be taken away to be cleaned. You really did seem to
enjoy your first fucking, didn’t you slut? You may answer!” The acutely
embarrassed Per replied “I hated it, sir, it was very painful and demeaning.”
The crucifer laughed and asked “Why did you cum then? Answer me!” The young
Dane blushed again and quietly responded “I don’t know, sir.” “Well, my
investigations and observations on your body yesterday and today suggest it’s
because you’re a real slut who’s beginning to realise that he likes being
abused and fucked,” suggeated the 12 years old, who began to fondle Per’s
thong. “Look,” he declared, “I can feel that you’ve got a hard-on now just
because I’ve been playing with your new jewellery!”
The hand began to move up and down the red-faced 14 years old’s silk-encased
erection, which grew larger and more vertical, causing the 12 years old teaser
to reaffirm, with another smirk, “Slut!” The second acolyte just giggled. The
first now requested, as he continued to rub the hardening cock, “I want you to
tell me what you are. I want the truth or my friend here will be forced to
activate your collar!” There was a brief pause whilst the young Dane
considered his options. However, there was really only one and he finally
replied in a hesitant voice, as he came close to soiling his thong again, “I’m
a real slut……sir……who……likes……being fucked……and abused!” As he said this, he
wondered whether these words were actually true for his engorged penis, which
had lifted his thong upwards, spurted more semen into the garment, whilst his
whole body flushed and shook, and his bum rose from the bed.
“Dirty slut,” commented the crucifer as Per came and some of the semen seeped
through the silk casing onto his hand. He turned towards his companion and
nodded. The second boy pressed a button on the handset and the young Dane’s
body now began to shake not in ecstasy but agony. “That’ll teach the slut to
control himself in future” commented the first 12 years old to the second,
causing both to laugh before waiting for the 14 years old to recover.
“Clean your mess off my hand,” Cycnus demanded, whilst placing his sperm-
covered right palm in front of the reclining Per’s face; “use your tongue.”
The young Dane obeyed. “You’d better take the thong off now, slut,” the
crucifer continued, “or you’ll soil the bed. Get up and remove it and put it
on the tray.” The shamed 14 years old carefully removed himself from the bed
and took off the garment, damp with gooey white liquid, revealing a smooth
scrotum and a softening cock splashed with the same substance. He placed the
soiled thong on the tray, in a space between the soup and pudding, and was
told “Wash your prick and balls free of your mess with the sink flannel, slut,
and rinse the cloth clean afterwards!” Per did so, his face still bright red
in embarrassment.
“Right, slut,” the 12 years old instructed, “you can eat your meal now. Drink
as much water with it as you want. We’ve kindly brought you a fresh jug.
Afterwards, you’ll need to wash yourself as thoroughly as you did yesterday.
Remember, you’re being watched on closed-circuit T.V. all the time, so don’t
dally. Once you’re clean, put another thong on. There’s one that has only one
bumcord, which runs down your bumcrack, on the clothes rail. Use that, then
resume the usual position before our sacred symbol. We’ll come back once this
is done. We’re to spend the afternoon training you to perform certain rituals
before giving you your three enemas. However, before we go, you may tell us
again what you are!” Per, now standing again by the bed, and holding his hands
in front of his naked genitals, replied “I’m a real slut, sir, who likes being
fucked and abused!” “Good,” responded Cycnus, “it’s really nice to know that
you recognise your true self but, to make sure that you remember, I’ll ask the
question every time we meet!” The two 12 years olds then left the room, re-
locking the door behind them and chortling all the way.
(To be continued in Chapter 7 – ‘Instructions’)
* * * |
Revenge of the Devil Dogs | WARNING, TESTICLES | Sandy learns his mistake when he wears a bike gang's colors. | Sandy was cruising down Highway 47, the wind in his hair and the stars above
bright. It was his third night out on his new hog and he felt free. Life was
good. He was celebrating a new job and a new, high paycheck that allowed him
to get the Harley and a full set of leathers. The jacket he had specially
made, a fiery dog skull with horns just like the Devil Dogs. Not that he was
stupid enough to put the actual name of the gang on his jacket. He wasn't an
idiot. But he had a sense of freedom and toughness, whether he earned it or
not.
This was farmland he was riding in, with plenty of rolling hills covered with
corn and soybeans. No lights brightened the road. Sandy crested a hill and
looked ahead. A yellow sign marked a four-way intersection ahead. He noticed
that there were lines of headlights on both sides of the road. With only a
hundred yards or so before he crossed, some of the lights pulled out ahead of
him. He hit the brakes, though not hard enough to lose his balance. They were
bikes, he saw, five or six of them ahead of him, and as he crossed the
intersection, the rest of the bikes pulled out and followed him.
He swallowed hard. What on earth was going on? No one seemed to be threatening
him, but all the same, he was surrounded. They had slowed down. He was going
no more than forty miles an hour. Time to pass. But as he started flowing to
the left, a bike came up on his left side to prevent him. Now his heart began
to thump in his chest and the sweat of fear trickled down his back. The biker
on his left was a big man with long black hair and a flowing beard over a
paunchy belly. Sandy glanced over at him but the biker didn't look back.
The bikes ahead slowed down even more and started pulling to the right. Off
the highway was a dirt trail. Sandy tried to keep his course, to go straight
and get away from the pack, but the biker to his left closed in on him and
started to run him off the road. Without looking at Sandy, the biker pointed
off to the right. The bikes behind him closed ranks. He didn't have a choice
but to go where he was told.
The trail was rough and full of holes and bumps. Sandy's bones were rattled
and shaken. The headlight's spot flashed wildly along the trail as he traveled
along, overgrown weeds slapping at his thighs. A long line of lombardy poplar
trees was on his right, a field of corn to his left, red taillights and
exhaust ahead of him. No one was going to see him back here. Terror was
gripping him like a vise around his guts and he was beginning to shake. What
had he stumbled into?
Finally the pack came to an old barn, half-open with rotted planks and leaning
timbers. There were a few bikes already parked up ahead and a glow from inside
the barn. As the bikers ahead started pulling their bikes up, Sandy made a
desperate turn to escape, but the bikers behind blocked him quickly. He stayed
on his bike but soon they surrounded him. Sandy stood, shaking and alone,
captured in the headlights of more than a dozen bikes.
One by one, the throaty growl of the engines were cut off and the bikers
dismounted. The burly one with the flowing black hair, the one who had ridden
on his left, grinned and came up to Sandy, clapping a hand on his shoulder.
"Look what we have here, boys!" he said in a voice roughened with years of
cigarettes and whiskey. "We have a new member and we didn't even know it!"
Sandy looked around him. They were all Devil Dogs. "No," he whined, his knees
shaking and hardly able to hold him up. "I didn't say, I didn't mean to--"
The biker threw his arm around Sandy's shoulder and crushed him close. "Don't
worry about it, bro! We're just going to initiate you. It's a big party!" He
laughed harshly and pulled him towards the barn.
The whole gang followed along. Sandy tried to look them all in the face, to
see if any one of them showed any compassion at all. There was a fat man,
shaved bald, wearing a Devil Dogs vest. There was a balding man with long,
curly brown hair and a goatee. A skinny, ratty-looking man with greasy dark
hair and buck teeth. All of them different, all of them hardened, all of them
tough, and none of them looking at him with an ounce of compassion.
Heavy metal music was pouring out of the barn. Someone had brought a boombox.
Empty beer cans were littering the floor already and bottles of Jack Daniel's
were being passed around. In the middle was what looked like an old
workbenchand some coils of rope. Sandy dug in his heels and tried backing away
but the men closed in and grabbed him. Their hard, powerful hands dug into his
arms and legs, picking him up and carrying him the rest of the way. Sandy
tried to twist out of their grasp, but it was no good. He was just too weak.
They threw him against the table and bent him over the edge, crushing his face
against the rough wood. The man with the black hair, apparently their leader,
stuck his face into Sandy's and grinned with awful yellow teeth. "I think
we'll hang on to your jacket," he said, his breath stinking and stale. They
stripped Sandy's jacket off him and yanked his brand-new leather pants off.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Sandy babbled as they tied rope to his
wrists and stretched him out over the table. His feet left the ground, only
his toes now touching, and they grabbed his ankles. His legs were spread wide
and his legs tied to the table legs. The chilly air raised bumps on his skinny
white legs and ass. By now, Sandy was crying. Why had he ever had that stupid
jacket made? What on earth had possessed him to show it off in public?
"Please don't," he whined, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Please!" His
voice was thin and hoarse now and he was bawling.
"We don't let little crybaby pussies into the Devil Dogs," said their leader.
Sandy heard the sound of a belt being unbuckled and pants dropping. "We'll
make you a man!"
Sandy's eyes widened as he felt something thick and hard push between his
asscheeks. "NO!" he yelled in the same instant that hot, thick dick rammed
through his asshole, a ripping explosion of pain that he couldn't have
imagined. A white-hot spear tore into him and he lost all control of his
muscles, thrashing like a fish and screaming, but more than a dozen hard hands
held him down. The leader pumped his stiff, powerful dick deep into Sandy's
ass, his huge hairy balls slapping just under Sandy's torn red hole.
One by one they took their turns with him, a parade of dicks ripping into his
deflowered ass and pumping hot white cum deep into him. Streaks and dribbles
of cum and blood ran down his legs. Sandy's screaming turned into weak,
uncontrolled weeping. Splinters of wood embedded themselves in his chest and
belly, unnoticed because of the raging pain in his bowels. Finally he passed
out from the pain while he was being fucked for the seventh time and he
involuntarily puked onto the table. It puddled under his face and he choked as
he sucked some of it back in. In his haze, he hardly noticed.
The last man took his turn with Sandy's ripped, bleeding asshole. Sandy no
longer made a noise or a move. He was a limp, used rag of a man, insensate. He
hardly noticed when they stretched his balls off and tied them off with wire,
but as the wire was pulled cruelly tight, the searing pain in his balls roused
him again. He looked up, shaking, breathing heavy and ragged, puke dripping
from his face and hair. He saw the leader step into his range of vision and
show off a wickedly long switchblade. The leader laughed nastily when the
blade flicked open.
"I hope you liked your initiation, bro," he said.
Panicking, Sandy looked around wildly, not understanding. Only when those big,
crushing hand gripped his balls and pulled them away from his groin did he
understand and an animal scream escaped him. Too late.
The pain of his rectum being torn repeatedly was nothing compared to the
sawing of a sharp knife through his tender scrotum. He sounded like a dying
piglet as his most precious parts were separated from him, the cords and veins
sliced away. His screaming died away as the last of the flesh was severed. The
last thing he saw was his bloody sack, seeping cloudy fluid, slapped onto the
table next to his face. He'd been destroyed and his mind couldn't take it.
Sandy slipped into unconsciousness.
When he awoke, he lay on the ground, his wrists and ankles rubbed raw where
he'd fought against the ropes. A searing pain was still in his groin and a
heavy ache was in his gut. His throat was raw, every muscle in his body sore.
His back felt torn. Above it all, when he moved, when he stood like a shaky
foal on its feet for the first time, he felt the hot throbbing pain of his
torn asshole. He looked at himself. He was covered with dirt and his legs were
painted with blood and shit. He'd been laying in a puddle of his own piss and
shit and blood.
It was just past dawn. He was alone. Painfully, tearfully, he forced himself
to stagger out to his bike. The keys were still in the ignition and his pants
lay draped across the seat. Though it brought back every hard memory of being
raped just hours before, though it made him weep with pain, he struggled into
his leather pants, afraid to touch the raw rip where his balls had been. It
was going to be hellish, he knew, having to ride his bike to the nearest
hospital an hour away, feeling every pebble on the road as if it were a needle
in his anus or a match to his wounds. But he had to.
There was something on the gas tank, he noticed, as he was about to kick the
bike to a start. For a moment he was baffled at its lumpy gray shape, but
recognition kicked in and he shook with horror. They'd left him his balls.
* * * |
Silvia's Fantasy | BI, NULLIFICATION, clitorectomy | Silvia\'s has her last hot moments | ` Silvia's Fantasy `
I have always admired Silvia. She has the body of a supermodel (complete with
very small tits, I love that) and her face is beautiful like a movie star's!
We know each other from high school and are good friends, well, more or less.
Every now and then we would also make love, that was always a big thing for
me, since I am (mostly) straight and she is the only woman I ever had.
So about a year ago we were just changing clothes after coming from the
swimming pool (it always turns me on to see her like that) when she kissed me
and said casually, smiling, and smoothly "you know, there is a thing. That I
haven't told you about. I always wanted to but I wasn't sure."
I kissed her back and said "wow, I like secrets, tell me!"
She began playing with my nipples and replied "About my clit, you know..."
A laughed and, since we were still naked, touched it. It had a nice shape and
was quite a bit bigger than mine. I was thinking about how Silvia showed me
how to handle myself when we were still at school. Her clit was also very hard
now. "Go on!" I wispered.
"Well, there is a thing that turns me on, for as long as I can remember. A
fantasy thing, like, here it goes: when I masturbate I usually have fantasies
of having my clit removed!" She told, as she was touched mine.
I was thrilled: "Cutting it off?"
"Yes! In my mind I planned the whole thing, having my last orgasm, then
watching it being cut off, imagining my empty slit!"
I felt like I was coming real soon now, so she went on a bit slower, and I
said "Thats cool. But you wouldn't want that, would you? I mean (groan) whats
the point when it's gone?"
Silvia smiled as she considered that. "Hm, I could always play with yours.
I've been thinking about this and a few weeks ago I decided to do it!"
"Never! Re you for real?"
"Yes! I met this girl, she does piercings and stuff. When I was in her studio
I couldn't help but ask her about clitorectomies. And she has done it before!"
She then continued to rub me and said "She said she can do it anyway I want!
Like I want it to be! And then I realized that I wanted to do it. All this
time and now I had to decide whether to make it real or not. It's just fate
that I met her."
Now I came, violently. After I settled down, I began fingering her hard clit
while we were kissing passionatly. "When will you do it?" I asked.
"Tomorrow" she whispered "We made an appointment, so tomorrow she'll cut it
off!" she continued exitedly while she rubbed my tits. Then she came, too. For
a moment we lay there, panting. "And" she said softly "I want you to come with
me! You know, for my last..."
"OK, let's go together then!" I said expectantly.
Next afternoon, after we rang the bell at Pat's appartment we had to wait a
little. We were very excited, kissing, giggling and touching all the time.
Silvia whispered into my ear that her clit had been hard all night, just like
right now, and that it was ready to be removed. Then a slim blonde girl named
opened the door. I was a little disappointed, because for a piercer she was
looking a bit too normal with only a little nose ring. I also noticed that we
were entering her private appartment and not any kind of piercing studio that
I was expecting.
Pat led us in and showed us the bedroom which only contained a very large bed
(and some paintings of nude women on the walls). Obviously Silva had made
those arrangements as she was already undressing. So I undressed, too. When we
lay kissing on the large bed, Pat entered (also naked) carrying some equipment
in a plastic box. "Have you taken the pain killers?" she asked and Silvia
nodded smilingly.
Then Pat joined us saying "OK, we'll do it as discussed, right?" and again
Silvia nodded. We all three began kissing and touching each other, very
slowly. Silvia only stopped to announce happily that this was just like her
fantasy. As I was leaning over Silvia, Pat began to attach some kind of clamp
to her clit and labia. Silvia moaned shortly, but then continued to kiss me
very slowly. I could feel her heart beat very fast, or was it mine?
Silvias clit stood out now because of the clamp that was attached to its base.
Pat was rubbing it very carefully. Silvia whispered into my ear "now comes the
tricky part, I want her to cut it off just before I come. And I hope I don't
bite off you tongue when the moment comes" she added laughing.
For a while we continued kissing and Pat was rubbing Silvia's clamped clit. I
could feel that Silvia was getting more and more excited (so was I) as she was
getting closer to orgasm, but not reaching it yet.
After a few minutes, she stopped kissing to whisper that "now" is the time. I
was kissing her very intensively while unconsciously shifting position so I
could see what was going on below. Silvia made a signal with her left hand
flat on her belly, fingers opening and closing: scissors! Pat saw the signal
and moved fast to get the scalpel that was lying nearby. Silvia pulled me
closer and said to me in her soft voice "kiss me now!"
From the corner of my eye I was watching Pat, as she pulled the labia out,
beginning to cut them off, working her way up. Silvia moaned slightly as her
tongue played with mine. Pat took extra care, pulling Silvia's clitoris with
her thumb and index finger, still massaging it, then she began to slowly cut
the hardened clit off. I saw the scalpel slicing under the center of Silvias
clit, and I couldn't help but remember making her come by touching her exactly
there! With a last motion Pat completed the cut and Silvia' clitoris came off!
I was amazed how little blood there was, the clamp must have been working
perfectly. After washing it in a small glass of water, Pat showed us Silvia's
clit with labiae still attached. She laid the V-shaped organ on Silvia's chest
and I touched the severed button with awe. It still felt warm and soft and
even stood up a bit from the labia like it was erect. Silvia, a bit dazed by
the pain, took her clit and let her tongue glide across it, telling us that
she always wanted to do that. Then we all three laughed and later when Silvia
was sleeping, Pat and I had a go at it to relieve our enormous hornyness,
while playing with Silvia's removed clit, taking it in our mouths and passing
it between us on our tongues.
A few days later Silvia had a special gift for me. She handed my a small
pendant with her clitoris preserved in transparent plastic, it looked very
life like! Since this event we three sometimes do a little get-together and
have lots of fun (and have orgasms, well except for one). Silvia told me she
always feels a little horny, maybe because she never had that last orgasm, but
then she gets some kind of satisfaction by touching my clit (well, as long as
it's still there!).
* * * |
Christine's Revenge | TG | Christine is having a hard time transistioning from male to female. At work Ron torments until finally he goes to far. | Christine’s transition from Christopher was not progressing as she had dreamed
when she first embarked on becoming a woman. The psychiatrist was quickly
convinced to write a letter that Chris used to get his bilateral orchiectomy
and the start of HRT drugs he would need.
This action turned out to be the straw that broke the back of his marriage.
His wife, Martha, filed for divorce feeling that she had been duped into a
marriage with a homosexual, who had used her to cover his true sexual nature.
The very conservative judge that heard the case gave the house, car and a
substantial monthly payment of child support and alimony to Martha. As an
added insult Christine was given only limited supervised visitation with her
children. As bad as that was, the fact that Christine was not accepted by the
children and was blamed for the breakup of the family, by both his son and
daughter made visiting them to maintain parental contact a failed effort.
At work, once Christine came out and started to come to work as a woman, she
was transferred from her position in sales, where she had been the leading
salesman, to a position in administration and training. Her client accounts
were given to Ron, a young go-getter that had always come in second to Chris
in total sales and adding new customer accounts. Although the new job paid the
same base salary that the job in sales did, there was no opportunity for
Christine to earn the lucrative sales commissions and bonuses she gotten
before in sales. After paying Martha her monthly blood money there wasn’t a
lot left for Christine.
The low income and lack of a car forced her to find a place in the city where
she could use mass transit to get to work. This meant a one bedroom basement
apartment in an older brownstone. The once prosperous neighborhood had long
passed its prime. A few people now to old to consider moving lived with a mix
of the poor working class, newly arrived immigrants searching for the American
dream and some less desirables folks that made their living from being on the
wrong side of the law.
The entrance to Christine’s apartment was tucked behind the large concrete
stoup on the front of the old building, it protected her from the sights and
sounds of the street but also meant her windowless apartment was always a
silent, dark, gloomy space.
Away from family and old friends, with no social life outside of work, she
sought comfort in food. The fit and slim man became a squat and heavy woman.
Gone were the day dreams about shopping for pretty clothes and sexy lingerie,
instead buying practical clothes for work from the plus size shops and
catalogs. The disappointment just sent her back to the refrigerator for more
ice cream to sooth her hurt feelings.
Her only true friend was Sandra, a young black girl assigned to the Admin.
department as a clerk typist, the lowest paying position in the department.
Sandra was the only person of color on this floor of the company building. She
often remarked that she was only there as a token to prove the company wasn’t
prejudice. Knowing Christine faced similar obstacles Sandra made herself a
friend and steadfast ally.
At work Christine suspected Ron was entertaining co-workers with jokes about
her. The sudden silence when nearing a laughing group centered around Ron.
Strange looks and Ron’s insistence on calling Christine, “Chris” when
processing his travel claims and sales documents through the Admin.
department. There had been several instances of gay and transgender cartoons
anonymously posted with hand written references to Christine on them. Sandra
passed along email she received, of other jokes made at Christine’s expense
and sent anonymously to all on the Sales and Admin floor. Ron was always the
main suspect but Christine could not afford to make any accusations without
definite proof, so she continued to suffer the verbal slings and arrows
silently.
Trudging along day by day Christine worked her way through a long year. At
last finding herself at the holidays and the big office Christmas party. This
party would be the last opportunity for everyone on the floor to get together
and celebrate. All of the sales staff and most of the support personnel would
take time off from now until after the start of the New Year. Only Admin and
accounting people would spend any time at work, closing out records and
accounts for the year. The company had a record year in Sales so there was
plenty to celebrate. The big holiday bonus checks were being passed out to the
most successful salesmen.
For the party, several desks had been shoved back to make space and a boom box
was playing, so those that wanted could dance. There was plenty of alcohol; a
heavily spiked bowl of egg nog, bottles of champagne, wine and liquor
stretched across two desks tops for everyone to use.
Christine and Sandra stood on the sidelines watching.
“Will you be taking any time off during the holidays?” Sandra asks after
draining her cup of egg nog.
“No, I need the money so I’ll be working every day I can. “Christine replied.
“Well hanging around here isn’t getting me on the bus home” Sandra lamented “I
still have Christmas shopping to finish. You have a Merry Christmas and I’ll
see you next year.”
Christine started to return the holiday wishes when Sandra grabbed her arm and
interrupted “Here comes your favorite red haired step son of a salesman”
pointing out Ron crossing the floor carrying two glasses of champagne “and he
looks like he’s head straight for us.” Sandra quickly gathers her purse and
coat “I don’t need this, I’m out of here.”
Sandra exchanged a quick holiday greeting as she passed Ron on the way out,
leaving Christine to face her antagonist alone.
He was wearing a Christmas tie that must have had a battery, because the gawty
tree light’s blinked off and on randomly. Ron smiled and extended one of the
tall fluted plastic glasses of bubbly. “Merry Christmas” Christine accepted
the fake stem ware as Ron continued “And thank you.”
“For what?” Christine asked
“This has been my biggest sales year ever” Ron gloated “It wouldn’t have been
possible without those big accounts I got from you, when you transferred to
Admin.”
Christine fumed knowing that would mean a big Christmas bonus check for Ron
while she struggled to make ends meet. Trying to remain civil she replied
“Good for you, Ron.”
Ron drew closer and spoke in a soft voice “I know we’ve had some friction in
the past and I haven’t always shown an understanding for your special
situation, I just hoped we could put that behind us and start next year as
friends.”
Christine was taken back and totally disarmed by this unexpected apology and
offer of friendship. “Thank you, this is very unexpected, I don’t know what to
say.”
“Let’s drink to it” Ron extended his glass tapping Christine’s “A Merry
Christmas and to an even better New Year.” Ron toasted before turning up his
glass and draining it.
Christine raised her glass “Merry Christmas and Happy New Year” and took a
lady like sip of the champagne.
Ron turned and faced the group dancing “I love that song, let’s dance.”
Christine very unsure of herself “No, no I don’t think so.”
“Come on” Ron pleaded “It will be fun.”
Christine relenting a little, still unsure “I don’t know its been a long
time.”
“Give it a chance” Ron encouraged “finish that drink and let your hair down,
girl it’s party time!”
Feeling a little giddy, Christine drained her drink and took Ron’s out
stretched hand and followed him to the dance floor. The music had a strong
beat and the couples on the dance floor were all gyrating to it with animal
like passion. Christine a little to heavy and out of shape was soon gasping
for air and a little unsteady on her feet. She extended her hand to Ron
indicating she was in need of a break. Ron took her arm and lead her off the
dance floor.
“That champagne really went to my head” Christine admitted as she became more
shaky by the second.
“We’d better get you some place to rest for a moment” Ron replied as he guided
Christine to the nearby private conference room.
Ron pushed the door open and helped Christine into one of the many large
leather chairs surrounding the table in the center of the room. The sound of
the party grew muffled as the conference room door automatically pulled itself
closed.
Ron bent down and studied Christine’s face “How are you feeling now?”
“Not good, the room is spinning and I am having trouble focusing my eyes.”
Christine closed her eyes trying to calm the spinning sensation. She felt as
if she was riding a roller coaster in slow motion..
In the distance she heard Ron speaking to someone “Come on in, she’s
completely out and has no idea what’s going on.”
She fought to open her eyes but seemed powerless to do so. There were sounds
of men’s laugher from all around, the flashing of a bright white light that
faded to red and blue stars. All the while she felt herself being pushed and
tugged at, from first one side then the other before all went black.
Christine awoke chilled in a darken room. It took several seconds for her to
realize she was still in the conference room. She felt the hard surface of the
oak table against her back and her legs dangling over the edge. She extend her
arms and gripped the tables edge for support as she forced herself upright
into a sitting position. Perched on the edge of the table she looked down in
the grey filtered light to see that all her clothes were gone except for her
garter belt and hose. She instinctively attempted to cover herself, with her
hands, as she glanced around the room to reassure herself she was alone. Her
head pounded with the worst hangover she had ever experienced as she tried to
understand what had happened.
As she slowly eases herself down to the floor she felt her bare skin stick to
some unknown cold sticky goo on the table top. She touched her finger to the
large pool and brought the small sample to her nose. Oh no! It was a pool of
seaman and it was all over her buttock and down the back of her thighs.
In the darken room, she carefully edged her way toward the light that leaked
in around the door frame. She felt along the wall until she found the switches
and turned on the lights. The recessed fluorescent lights flashed to life, the
bright light forcing her eyes shut briefly as her head ached from the
brilliant assault. After her eyes adjusted she scanned the room and found the
remainder of her clothes piled haphazardly in one of the chairs. She bundled
the clothes under her arm and cautiously cracked the door to peek out into the
main office floor. The room was dimly lite by only a few security lights, she
carefully search the room but saw no one only the mess that remained from the
long ended Christmas party. A clock on the wall showed her it was after 3 AM.
She scurried naked across the office room floor, clutching her bundle of
clothes to her chest, to the lady’s restroom.
In the restroom she stripped off her garter belt and hose, throwing the
disgustingly sticky garments into the trash. Using damp paper towels she
scrubbed herself clean before putting back on her clothes. Checking her face
in the mirror she was so sickened, she wretched in the sink, after realizing
what the dry white crusted residue was in the corners of her mouth. She
splashed cold water on her face until she felt she had regained control.
She left the restroom and returned to her desk to retrieve her purse and coat
before going home. There she found a sheet of paper taped to her computer
monitor with large letters scrawled across it “READ YOUR EMAIL NOW!!!!”
Sitting down, she logged into her account, finding only one new message titled
“Christine Does Christmas”. A large Power Point Presentation was attached to
the text less message. Clicking on the attachment started the automatic
download and opening of the presentation. As jolly Christmas music played in
the background picture after picture appeared and dissolved into the next
image as she watched stunned and motionless.
The first picture showed her slumped in the conference room chair, her bloused
unbuttoned and pulled opened her bra pushed up on her chest breast exposed.
Her skirt and panty pulled down around her ankles, her last vestige of male
flesh pulled from its hiding place and exposed for all to see.
The slide show continues with a picture of Christine, clothes now gone, bent
face down across the conference room table. A man, pants down, stood behind
her his stiff penis in hand, ready to penetrate her defenseless bottom. All
the images were carefully cropped to eliminate all the faces except
Christine’s.
The next pictured had her held bent over as she was assaulted from behind,
while another man with a handful of her hair held her head as he forced
himself deep into her mouth and throat.
Image after image flashed across the screen as her body was explored and
penetrated over and over and over again. She was surrounded by a sea of
headless dress shirts and ties, pants down with their stiff organ’s head
peering out from beneath the shirt tails. It was if the entire male population
of the office had each taken a turn at Christine’s expense. From picture to
picture one thing remained the same, the constant presence of a man wearing an
ugly tie with a gawty Christmas tree who’s light’s blinked off and on
randomly. RON!
Now over the shock of her violation, her only thought was making Ron pay. He
would feel her pain, know her humiliation, lose as she had lost and suffer as
she had suffered. She would have plenty of time to plan, it was to late to
catch a bus and she couldn’t afford a cab. It would be a long lonely walk
home, down darken streets in the winter cold with only the burning hatred of
Ron and her thoughts of revenge to warm her.
“Merry Christmas Christine” she said to herself in disgust as she trudged
home.
* * * |
Wie das Blöcken von Schafen | WARNING, NULLIFICATION, Clitorektomy | Besuch eines Beschneiders in der Türkei, Beobachtung, wie einer jungen Engländerin auf ihren eigenen Wunsch hin die Klitoris entfernt wird. | Wie das Blöcken von Schafen
Es war in meinem Türkeiurlaub, ich hatte gerade eine Woche in Antalya den
Strand belegt, gebadet und trotz des moslemischen Umfeldes nicht wenig
getrunken, da kam ich auf den Gedanken, eine Rundreise ins Landesinnere zu
machen. Die Fahrt begann im Bus über holprige Strassen und nach den angesagten
Besichtigungen landeten wir in einem kleinen Ort. Ich hatte schon genug von
der Reisegruppe und setzte mich ab, die Übernachtung war sowieso in einer der
örtlichen Pensionen gebucht. Auf dem Marktplatz sah ich ein kleines Café und
bestellte mir einen Mocca. Plötzlich hörte ich aus einem der Nachbarhäuser
kurze gepresste Schreie, es klang wie das Blöcken von Schafen.
Ich winkte dem Ober, von dem ich von der Bestellung her wusste, dass er
deutsch sprach, "Was ist da los, da schreit jemand?", er lächelte verhalten
und sagte "Da ist eine Praxis, die sich spezialisiert hat auf etwas, was Sie
wahrscheinlich nicht verstehen werden, hier in der Türkei werden in strengen
Familien die Mädchen in ihrer Keuschheit unterstützt, und es finden immer noch
Beschneidungen statt." "Wenn's ans Eingemachte geht, quiecken die Mädels"
bemerkte ein Nachbar, offenbar ein ehemals deutscher Gastarbeiter, am anderen
Tisch süffisant, und ich sah an seinem Schritt, dass ihn die Kulisse mit den
unterdrückten Schreien anturnen mußte. "Sie wollen behaupten, dass da oben den
Mädchen die Geschlechtsteile beschnitten werden, während wir hier unten bei
einem Mocca sitzen. Sie nehmen mich auf den Arm!", "Aber nein, das ist
wirklich so. Es ist die einzige Praxis dieser Art hier in der ganzen Gegend
und übrigens kommen auch Leute aus Europa, auch aus Deutschland und
Amerikanerinnen habe ich auch schon gesehen, die sich hier beschneiden lassen
- die Praxis ist bekannt! Westliche Frauen lassen sich öfter beschneiden, als
Sie sich das vorstellen können und hier geschieht alles hygienisch und
kontrolliert - anders als etwa in Afrika. In Ägypten machen sie nur die
Gishiri-Beschneidung, da kommt nur die äußere Glans ab, das ist vielen
zuwenig.". Den Kellner amüsierte es, mich aufzuklären. "Sagen Sie," erwiderte
ich, "kann man bei so etwas vielleicht mal zuschauen. Ich bin selbst
Humanmediziner und zumindest mit den Resultaten gelegentlich schon
konfrontiert worden?", "Da müssen Sie den Beschneider selber fragen, heute hat
er sein Pensum wohl durch und er wird gleich vorbeikommen." Ich bestellte noch
einen Raki und wartete.
Die Sonne glänzte in zarten Rottönen von der Dämmerung, als aus dem erwähnten
Haus zuerst eine Familie mit ihrer offenbar benommenen jugendlichen Tochter
trat und kurz darauf ein Herr in mittleren Jahren die Haustür zuzog. Der
Kellner nickte mir zu und sprach den türkischen Arzt auf mich an.
Dr. A, wie er mir nun vorgestellt wurde, reichte mir freundlich lächelnd die
Hand. "Sie sind ein Kollege aus Deutschland, wie ich höre. Ich habe in München
studiert und freue mich, jemanden vom Fach von dort zu sprechen.", "Die Freude
ist ganz auf meiner Seite," komplimentierte ich zurück, "Ich habe das Mädchen
gehört und bin so auf Sie und das, was Sie hier tun, aufmerksam geworden. Wie
sind Sie auf den Gedanken gekommen, eine Beschneidungspraxis einzurichten?",
"Das mag Ihnen fremd vorkommen, aber auch in Deutschland leben etwa 20 000
beschnittene Frauen und nicht nur Exilantinen aus Afrika! Na ja, ich
beschneide die Mädchen, weil es jemand tun muß. Wenn nicht ich, dann die Oma
oder die Tante oder wer sonst immer, so ist wenigstens alles steril und es
passiert nichts Schlimmeres. Die Beschneidung nimmt den Mädchen die Lust oder
zumindest den - ich nenne es mal so - den orgiastischen Teil davon. Sie hat
aber auch Vorteile. Sie müssen die sozialen Strukturen hier anerkennen, die
Mädchen werden in die Ehen versprochen, häufig sind die Partner auch
wesentlich älter, da schafft eine freizügig ausgelebte Sexualität wie etwa im
westlichen Europa Probleme. Die Mütter und Großmütter wurden bereits
beschnitten, da steht dann der Gedanke im Raum, warum soll es den Töchtern
anders ergehen, ihnen hat es ja auch nicht geschadet. Der Argumente sind
viele: Reinheit, Glaubensfragen, Selbstdisziplin, die man so fördern möchte,
und natürlich die Kontrollierbarkeit im Familienverband, der hier noch einen
anderen Stellenwert genießt als bei Ihnen. Stellen Sie sich hier auf dem Dorf
eine junge Türkin vor, die Samstags in die Disko möchte - die es hier gar
nicht gibt -, die vielleicht im Minirock oder im Büsstier die Männer verrückt
machen könnte. Das passt alles nicht hierher und deshalb dieser vermeintlich
barbarische Akt. Ich weis, was Sie denken und kenne selbst die Freuden der
Sexualität aber auch ihre Zwanghaftigkeit zur Genüge."
Ich war überrascht so eloquent die Beschneidung gerechtfertigt zu sehen. Bei
uns war sie kaum je ein Thema und wurde wenn, dann immer als tyrannischer
Auswuchs altertümlich patriarchalischer Dritter-Welt-Strukturen mitleidvoll
abgetan.
"Herr A:" fragte ich, "ich würde mir gerne mal eine Beschneidung bei Ihnen
ansehen, das Thema und auch die Art Ihrer Behandlung interessieren mich!",
"Das ist kein Problem, im Gegenteil, ich würde mich freuen, wenn Sie mir
nachher assistieren könnten. Ich habe etwas außer der Reihe noch für heute
Abend eine Operation angesetzt, übrigens mit einer jungen Engländerin und da
schafft ein deutscher Kollege Vertrauen. Um 19 Uhr ist der Termin, und wenn
Sie möchten, kommen Sie eine Viertel Stunde vorher zu mir in die Praxis,
gleich hier das zweite Haus. Für jetzt entschuldigen Sie mich bitte, ich
möchte noch etwas zu Abend essen." Ich bedankte mich mit einem Händedruck und
zustimmendem Nicken, es war alles geklärt.
Fortsetzung folgt
* * * |
Billy gets prepped for Collage | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES | My first story, with the inspiration and help of a wonderful writer and contributor to this site, Thecia“May the wind always be to her back, May the road rise to meet her, and may she always have a pair of freshly cut balls in her pocket” | Hi, my name is Jill. I live alone in your typical quiet residential suburb. My
husband died in an industrial accident three years ago that left me with quite
a bit of insurance money and plenty of free time after I quit my job as a
nurse at the local hospital. I don’t have many friends except for Pam that
lives next door. The house on the other side of me has an older couple living
there with one teenage son. The family is quiet and keep to themselves. The
boy doesn’t seem to have many friends because he comes home from school every
day and never leaves the house or yard, although I have caught him looking at
me from behind the bushes in his yard when I’m sunbathing in my back yard. Pam
thinks he’s masturbating while looking at me.
Pam’s been a good friend to me and I like her a lot. She’s almost ten years
younger than I am but we’ve become very close since my husbands death. She
doesn’t do well in the boyfriend department. Pam is an average build, plain
sort of woman, 35 years old and horny most all the time. I mean all she talks
about is men and cock! I feel bad for her because she really has a good heart
and would do anything for me.
I’m 45 now and I’ve lost my waistline, but the extra pounds have also made my
already full breasts real bra busters. My guess is that’s what the boy next
door finds so appealing.
I was outside in the sun when the phone rang on the cordless extension, it was
Pam!
“Jill I can see the boy in the bushes again and I think he’s jacking off!”
“Are you sure Pam, it could be your imagination you horny little bitch.”
“ No really Pam, I’m sure he is. I’m going to prove it to you. I’m going to
sneak up on him and take a picture of him, I know I have a couple of pictures
left on my disposable camera, see you in a few.”
From were I was sitting I could see Pam leave her house but the boy couldn’t.
I decided to give my friend some help by distracting him. I stood up and
stretched my arms over my head causing my big tits to pull up away from my
halter top, then I bent forward causing my fleshy orbs to almost spill out. I
stayed that way for a minute playing around with my sandals until I hear Pam
yell out.
“I got you, you little pervert!! Don’t try to hid, come out here, now.”
The boy stood with his back to us while he tried to buckle his pants, finally
he slowly came from behind the bushes.
“Well Jill, look what we have here, a pervert spying on women.”
The boy’s face was beet red with embarrassment, he couldn’t speak, he stood
frozen in time!
“ Well young man what do you have to say for yourself, what’s your name?”
“Billy, I’m sorry, I couldn’t stop, I’ll never do it again.”
“Well Pam, what are we going to do with our little perv!”
“I think we should tell his parents what do you think?”
“Oh please don’t do that” the poor boy pleaded.
“ Lets go inside out of this heat while we decide what to do with him.”
Once inside I got a cold soda for Pam and myself while Billy stood in the
middle of the kitchen floor.
“How old are you Billy?”
“18”
“Aren’t you afraid your parents would see you from your house?”
“There not home, there gone for the summer, they won’t be home until Labor Day
just before I go of to collage.”
“Well Billy it’s very embarrassing for Pam and I to find a man playing with
himself in our back yards, I don’t know what were going to do with you, do you
have any ideas Pam?”
“Well I think he should be just as embarrassed don’t you Jill. Billy take your
shirt and pants off!!”
“I’m sorry, I’ll never do it again. Please don’t ask me that, please!!”
“Pam’s right, It’s to late to be sorry, off with them or maybe we’ll have to
tell your mother and father what there son has been doing while there away.”
Billy stood still for a moment then started to remove his shirt.
He was an average boy, nothing to write home about. “Ok now the pants”
The boy slowly lowered his trousers then stood there.
Pam moved closer to Billy and pulled the pants from him. “come on now Billy,
you know we want to see everything, off with the shorts.”
What came next was a real surprise, this average boy with average build had an
average dick but his balls were a sight to behold! They were half again as big
as average balls but in the heat of the day his nut sack hung down a good 10
inch‘s.
Pam and I just sat there gazing at the hanging nuts.
Billy stood there frozen in time unable to move, everything but his cock! That
had a mind of it’s own, it was on the move, up!!
I could tell Pam was turning inside out, my horny little friend was starting
to take short breaths.
“Well young man, I see from your erection that you enjoy showing us your
playthings don’t you Billy?”
“I don’t know, I know it’s wrong, I’m sorry I can’t help it, it gets big so
easy!”
“Do you play with cock a lot, how many times do you masturbate?”
“4 or 5 times I guess.”
“4or 5 times a week Billy?”
“No, a day!”
“Wow, you do enjoy it don’t you!”
“How many times has it been today?”
“2, I did it twice this morning.”
“And this was going to be number 3 until we stopped you, right?”
“Yes, but I’m sorry, I’ll try to stop if you don’t say anything”
“Well what do you think Pam, I think we should let him finish the last 3 don’t
you?”
“Definitely, ok young man you better get started!”
“Please don’t ask me to do that, please, I’ll work around your yards for you
all summer for free but don’t make me do that now.”
“Come on get started, 3 climax’s should be easy for a boy your age, start
rubbing Billy!”
We watched as his hand went to his throbbing dick, there was already a sting
of precum hanging from it’s head.
As the boy took hold of his ridged member Pam and I pulled our chairs closer.
His stroking was slow at first but soon got faster. Within a minute this
turned on boy was closing his eye’s in anticipation of his climax. We could
see his dangling nuts stop there loose bouncing and start to rise as they were
getting ready to unload!
Billy gave a slight whimper as his pent up sperm shot from his young penis.
His juice hit Pam and I, her on her bare midriff and me on my arm.
The boy stood there shaking while I got a dish towel and wiped his man juice
from my arm. As I reached to clean the goo from Pam’s stomach she grabbed my
hand. “Wait, let me try some, It’s been year’s since I tasted any and that was
only one time when I was young”. With that, she took two fingers and scooped a
nice dollop of cum and placed it on her tongue.
As Billy watched her his penis hung dropping and wet, spent of it’s seed.
“Mmmm! Jill try some it’s really good, go ahead!”
“Maybe next time, let me get the rest of it before run’s down over your
pants.”
“Well William would you like a cold soda, looks like you could use one.”
“Yes please.”
As Billy drank his soda I finished cleaning myself and his cock with the
towel.
“Can I leave now, please!”
“No, not yet young man, that was only number 3, you still have 2 more
ejaculation’s to go!!”
“Put your soda down and get started.”
“Here Billy let me show you something, this might help you get in the mood”.
With that, Pam removed her halter top!
I’ve seen Pam’s breast’s a couple of times before. There on the small side as
tits go, but her nipples are another story, there at least a half inch long
and hard most of the time.
The boy’s droopy cock started to swell almost immediately at the sight of her
naked breasts.
“Why Billy, you seem to like Pam’s breasts, don’t you?”
As Pam walked closer to the boy she took hold of one of her hard nipples and
pulled on it as she rolled it between her fingers.
Billy just stared at her breast not moving.
“Billy, have you ever seen a female nude before, I asked”?
“No, only in girly magazines.”
“Call me Jill, and her Pam, because where going to become close friends this
summer, “OK Billy”
“OK”
“OK, what Billy?”
“OK Pam”
Pam moved still closer to the nervous boy “go ahead touch my tits Billy, feel
how soft they are”
The boy brought his hand to Pam’s pert little tit and touched it
“Go ahead squeeze it, I like to have them squeezed.”
I looked at Billy’s cock bobbing to his heart beat and there from it’s purple
head was the start of more precum!
“ Pam I think our little friend here is already again”
“Wow, I think your right Jill, don’t you just love young virgin cock”
“OK my young friend start pulling”
As in a trance, the boy started to jack off again, all the while holding Pam’s
tit.
His pumping was fast and hard, his eyes never left Pam. To our surprise he
started spurting cum almost immediately.
“Holy cow! This kid is a sex machine Pam”
“You’ve got that right Jill, it must be because he’s never felt a tit before!
Boy can we have some fun with him”
“It all happened so fast I didn’t even get to enjoy watching those wonderful
nuts of his, I love the way they swing and bounce”.
“Pam you are one horny little slut ya know that!, you’ll have to pay more
attention for the next one”.
“Do you think he’s ready again Jill?”
“Give the poor boy a few minutes his legs are still trembling”
“Call me a little slut, look at your crotch!!, you’ve got a nice wet spot on
your shorts you pig!”.
“Just hand me the dish towel and help me clean the floor of this spunk Pammy
dear!!
This boy was a real turn-on for Pam, she hasn’t been that many men in her life
and it’s been almost two years since her last date. She’s confided in me that
she rents a lot of porno movies and uses a vibrator almost everyday. I have to
admit the boy was doing a lot for my sexual urges to! Since my husband Roy
died three years ago I’ve been spanking my pussy as a daily routine.
As Billy took a few sip’s of his soda Jill reached over and started to push
his low hanging nuts back and forth like a miniature swing!
“ Jill, I just love these balls, just look at them!! Couldn’t you just eat
them up.”
“Never mind his balls look at his pecker, it’s hard again!”
Pam stopped swinging his balls took them in her hand and gently squeezed them.
“Billy you’ve never had a female touch your goodies before, have you?”
“No, never Jill”
“You must really enjoy it your cock is throbbing again”
“Alright Billy lets do number 5, only this time Jill will play with your balls
while you do it”
“But my thing is starting to feel sore, can I stop please”.
“First off Billy, it’s a cock, say my cock”.
“My cock”.
“And no you can’t stop, we want one more shot of your juice!”
I reached for some butter from the table and rubbed it on his shaft then I put
some on it’s big plum purple head, rubbing it with the tip of my finger. I
kept it up until the already sensitive cock head would jump every time a my
touch.
“OK lets get started”
With that command the boy started his stroking.
“How does it feel with the butter on your dick Billy”.
“ It feels good Jill”
“Good, do you like Pam playing with your balls while you jack-off”
“Oh yes, it feels really nice!”
The boy closed his eye’s and kept rubbing his young but tired penis.
“Pam, when you feel his balls starting to pull up it means he’s getting ready
to climax, I want you to pull down on them, not hard but firm, he’ll love it.”
Billy kept his hand moving over his member as Jill toyed with his nuts.
Within a few minutes his hand picked up the pace and Jill nudged Pam to get
ready.
Pam released his nut sack to let them hung free so she could watch for the
rise upward.
“Here they go Pam give them a pull, quick.”
With that Pam grabbed his sack at the top of his balls and pulled firmly down.
Billy’s cock responded by shooting more of his cream only this time I caught
it with my two cupped hands!
The last of his cum hung as a long string from his cock head to the puddle of
warm liquid in my hands.
Billy was exhausted, his cock was still semi-hard and starting to look really
sore.
When Billy regained his composure I stood up and lifted my hands to inspect my
gift from the boy. As he watched I put my hands to my face and reach with my
tongue and licked some of sperm which I brought to my lips. The young boy’s
eye’s widened as I played with his cum.
“Now it’s your turn, try some!!”
Billy’s eye’s darted from me to Pam and back.” I can’t, I can’t, no”.
“It’s really good Billy, here Pam likes it”, with that Pam licked some of the
boy’s offering’s from my hands.
“Besides it’s your own silly, here”.
As I brought my cupped hands to his face he closed his eye’s and stuck out his
tongue.
I tilted my hands to let his cum run over it. He pulled away when he felt it
cover it!
“OK, now just put your tongue back in your mouth, after all you can’t walk
around like that!”
As he did, he made a face.
“It isn’t bad is it? Be honest now.”
“No it’s not to bad.”
“Well Pam I think we ought to let our new boy toy go home and get some rest
he’ll need it for tomorrow !”
“Your right Jill, and what ever you do Billy leave your pecker alone, we’ll
want it nice and fresh.”
“You mean you want me to come back again”
“Why Billy, we’ll want you to come back every day till you go off to school
this fall!.”
“That’s right, we’ll have fun, fun, fun, for the next 2 months Billy.”
“What would you be doing this summer anyway besides staying home and jerking
off while you sneak peeked at my tits!”
“You have to admit it was a lot more fun playing with yourself with us here
now wasn’t it.”
“Yes it was but I don’t think I should do this every day here.”
“Well we think you should don’t we Pam and don’t forget we still have those
pictures of you in the bush’s.”
“ That’s right, now run alone, Jill and I want to talk about tomorrow.”
“OK Billy be back here at 9:00 AM sharp, now put your pants and git.”
Billy dressed and left out the back door. We watched as he went back to his
house, but we chuckled because we could tell by the way he walked he was one
sore young man!
“Jill I have to go home to, I’ve got to get my little “toy” and give it a work
out, I just hope the battery’s last!, and then I have to change pants there
soaked!”
“OK, your absolutely right my pussy is sopping too, come back this evening and
we’ll discuss Billy.”
“Hi Pam come on in, feel better now!”
“Do I, I had 3 orgasm’s before I took my shower and if that wasn’t enough I
had 2 more in the shower.”
“That’s super, I had a couple myself.”
I made some coffee for Pam and I as we got ready to discuss how to handle our
new “boyfriend”.
“Well Pam, what should we do to get the most fun from Billy?”
“I don’t know, I’m game for anything Jill.”
“ I think we should try an hold off having intercourse with him as long as
possible.”
“Alright, we can have him continue to beat his meat and we can help.”
“OK but we have to think of something else besides that.”
“Well I just love his balls the way they hang there, did you ever see anyone
with balls like that while you were working as a nurse?”
“I saw a few guy’s that had injuries that were work related, I remember one
man had a hernia from lifting a heavy load and his nuts were way down, one was
almost to his knee cap.”
“Oh my God Jill, I would have love to have seen that. Did it bother him?”
“No, but he had to be careful when he was undressed not to sit on them!”
“Do you think we could get Billy’s to be like that?”
“What do you mean make Billy lift something heavy to try and make his nuts
drop?”
“Ya, do you think we could make them do that?”
“First we’d have to convince Billy to do it, how do we do that?”
“Why don’t we tell him girls really love guy’s with low hung balls, he’s never
been around girls how would he know anything different.”
“OK, but it can’t be to painful or he won’t do it, there might be a way. We
could start off slow, heck we got all summer!”
“Great, lets do it Jill”
“Alright, let me pick up something at the porn shop in town it opens at 9:30
in the morning so you’ll have to be here when Billy arrives at 9:00, OK“
“OK”
Billy was met by Pam at my house at 9:00 and I arrived home around 10:00.
When I walked in Jill already had Billy stripped and was sitting in front of
him fondling his balls and there was precum running from his pee hole all the
way to the floor!
“Pam your terrible, your teasing him already, did you tell him what we talked
about last night?”
“I told him that girls really love low hanging nuts and if he’s going off to
collage we should try and make these two nuts of his as low as we can so he’ll
have plenty of pretty girlfriends.”
“What do you say Billy would you like a lot a girls chasing you through
collage, they‘d just love to play with your cock with low nuts?”
“Sure that would be nice.”
“Ok! Then lets get started.”
I opened the bag from the porn shop and took out my purchase. “This is a
leather parachute, it snaps around your nut sack and lets us hang weights from
it. The weights while stretch your balls lower. That along with some exercises
will bring your nuts down.”
“Here Pam, you put this on Billy’s balls and I’ll go to the basement and get
my exercise weight’s.”
As Pam got Billy ready, I made several trips bringing all my weights upstairs.
After I caught my breath I inspected Jill’s job of putting on the leather
parachute around his nuts.
“That looks like it will work out just fine Jill, these rawhide straps have a
clip on the end that will let us hang all the weights we need to pull on these
baby makers!”
“OK Billy lets try a 5 lb weight first, there how does that feel?”
Billy’s nuts were pulled down from the weight but not much more than the
normal 10 inch’s.
“It feels OK Jill, not bad”
“Alright then lets try 10 lb, how’s that?”
The boy’s nut sack was pulled even more!
“ I feel it pulling now, but it doesn’t really hurt much.”
The boy’s cock has remained hard since I returned home and the steady stream
of precum has made a small puddle on the floor.
“Look at all this precum on the floor Pam, it’s a good thing it’s tile not
carpet, but be careful you don’t slip on it!”
“Will this do it Jill or do we need more?” Pam asked.
“We’ll start with 10 lb and work up to something heavier.”
“Billy, I want you to masturbate for me and tell me how you like it.”
“OK, my dick was beginning to hurt it’s been hard for so long ”
Billy took hold of his cock and started to stroke it, The boy had endured so
much fondling of his cock and balls that he was shooting his first load almost
immediately!
While the boy was moaning I was looking to see if his balls could lift as he
ejaculated, but I didn’t see any upward movement.
“That was splendid Billy, how did it feel?”
“It was super Jill.”
“Pam this is going to work out fine except we’ll have to do something about
all this sperm. It’s making a mess!”
“How about catching it in some empty jars, we can save it an see how much our
boy here give us.”
“Great idea Pam, we’ll do that.”
“Billy, you clean your mess up, Jill and I are going to the basement to look
for some jars.”
Once down stairs Jill and I talked about what we would have to do.
“ We need to start his balls dropping from the inside first then it will only
be a matter of stretching the skin on the scrotum.”
“How can we do that Jill?”
“I looked in one of my old medical books last night about hernias and I think
I might have
just the thing!”
I opened an old box stored under the cellar stairs and brought out a TENS
device.
“What the hell is that contraption, it’s a box with dials and wires attached?”
“This my friend induces mild electrical shocks to a patient for nerve
stimulation, trust me, it won’t hurt him, he may even enjoy it now grab that
empty jar there and lets get back to our friend.”
Upstairs in the kitchen Billy had cleaned his mess from the floor and was
standing with the weight pulling at his nut sack.
“Alright Billy lets see how much we can hang without to much discomfort.”
“Pam give me another 10 lb weight from the set!”
“There, how does that feel Billy.”
The extra 10 lb’s pulled his nut about another inch lower.
“Not to bad Jill.”
“OK give me the small 5 lb weight Pam.”
“OK Billy how does that feel, you’ve got 25 lb pulling these boys down.”
“It feel’s like there really stretching a lot I don’t think I want any more!”
I left him to stand with the weight pulling at his poor testicle’s.
I started putting the heavier weights on the barbell with Pam’s help.
“How much should we put on Jill?”
“I think 75 lbs should do it, and well still be able to catch it when the time
comes!”
“Pam just gave me a strange look.”
“OK Billy, can you pick this up and rest it on your shoulders?”
With that, the boy lifted the barbell to his shoulders. OK now squat down and
do some deep knee bends, let see how many you can do?
Billy did 6 but was straining with the 7th squat coming back up.
Pam and I helped lift the weights off his shoulders.
“That was very good, but Pam did you notice the ball weights were resting on
the floor every time he did a squat! We need them to be hanging all the time.”
I thought for a minute then had an idea.
“Pam help me pull the table apart like when we put in the extra leaf.”
With a 2 foot separation in the table I instructed Billy to get climb up and
stand with a foot placed on each half.
“OK squat down.”
As he did his squat the ball weights hung through the opening.
“Perfect, alright now the fun part Billy.”
I brought the TENS box to the table and untangled the wires. I rubbed some of
the conductive jell that comes with the kit on the small pads at the end of
each wire. Next I placed each pad on Billy’s lower stomach just left and right
and above his pubic hairline and taped them in place.
“OK Billy, I’m going to turn this on. Let me know when you start to feel a
tingle.”
As I increased the voltage I watched Billy’s cock as it remained ridged
through all of this.
“OK I feel it now.”
“Let me know when it feels uncomfortable.”
I keep slowly increasing the power and as I did his cock seemed to strain and
grow slightly larger with the veins starting to stick out more.
“Oh stop! That’s starting to make my stomach muscles jump and feel funny.”
“Alright, that was about half power Pam.”
“Holy cow Jill!! Look at the precum that’s coming running out his cock, what
did that machine do?”
“It contract’s the muscles in the lower abdomen so it’s probably squeezing his
prostate gland and milking out all this delicious love juice.”
“Lets catch what we can in the jar.”
“OK Billy, you stand there on the table and let your balls swing back and
forth for a couple of minutes Pam and I will be right back.”
Pam and I left the room to plan our next step which will change our young man
in the other room forever, we hope!.
“This is what we have to do. First Billy will be standing on table with the
weight hanging from his balls, all 25 lbs, I’ll have the TENS set low, then we
jerk him off to get all his internal organs relaxed and tired. After he
shoot’s his load we put the 75 lb barbell on his shoulders and tell him to do
as many squats as he can. Now you pick up the 25lb weight hanging from his
balls and hold it up near his waist, just tell him you want to make it easier
for him. Now the big finally, when he’s really straining on his last squat
I’ll give you the nod and I’m going to turn the TENS power all the way up and
I want you to drop the weights! But were going to have to be ready to grab the
barbell, OK understand?”
“I’m ready, God I’m wet already thinking about it, lets do it”
“OK Billy boy, ready to shoot again?”
“I’m ready Pam.”
“I’m going to put the TENS on low and then Pam and I are going to play with
the nice cock and balls you have.”
We put our hands under the long strand of precum and took it to lube his
shaft. Slowly at first then faster, I could tell Pam was as anxious as I was
to see the results.
“How does it feel Billy, do you like your balls all nice and stretched like
that?”
“ Oh yes, yes, oh keep rubbing me I’m almost ready.”
Pam and I kept rubbing the boy’s penis as we squeezed his young firm buttocks.
“Here it comes, oh here it comes oohhh!!”
Just as Billy started to unload I stopped my stroking, I wanted him to strain
his own muscles to force his ejaculation, I wanted those muscles good and
tired.
“OK Billy, Pam and I are going to lift the barbell up to you and I want you to
put it on your shoulders and do as many squats as you can, Pam will hold your
ball weights to make a little easier”
“Here it comes, take it and lift it up there, we’ll help you.”
The boy was tired but he started doing the exercise with our coaching.
After four deep knee he was starting to strain, I told Pam to get ready on the
next lift.
As Billy started up on his 5th lift he was starting to shake, I looked at Pam
and nodded as I cranked the TENS to full power. Pam on the signal dropped the
weight.
Billy let out a loud scream and started to collapse. Immediately Pam and I
grabbed the barbell from Billy as he fell to the table.
Billy laid there across the table crying in pain while he held onto his lower
stomach.
I went to the refrigerator to get an ice pack when Pam. yelled for me to come
quick.
When I turned around I new immediately what she was excited about, the boy
curled in agony on the table had been change, changed for life! Everything had
worked as planned.
Billy was lying across the opening in the table and his balls were stretched
down so the 25lb weights were lying on the floor!
Well we got Billy to the bed and kept putting ice packs on his groin and
within four days he was on his feet although still moving slow.
Billy’s balls were definitely much looser but until he was feeling better we
didn’t want to push it.
Billy stayed with us as we got him back on his feet, we also convinced him
that Pam didn’t mean to drop the weights.
It was time to see just how good our work had turned out. In preparation for
the big day I picked up some KY warming gel to rub on his cock and most
importantly his nut sack. The warming gel would soften the skin and make it
nice and loose.
“OK Billy this is the big day, I’ve got this super gel the will feel all nice
and warm, here Pam you rub it on to make up for that terrible mistake you made
by dropping those weights.”
Pam took the gel and began to cover the boy’s now much longer scrotum with a
little left for his now rising cock.
“There, all done, OK Billy stand up.”
As Billy stood we could see that we had done an even better job than we had
hoped for.
“Wow, Pam that must make you happy, look at those sweet things, there almost
to his knees without anything pulling them down.”
Pam had to reach for the hanging nuts and swing them between Billy’s leg’s.
“Not to hard there still sore inside, and no pulling on them for at least 2
more weeks, understand you horny thing!”
“Understood”
“Lets give this guy a nice hand job, it’s been 2 whole weeks and he must be
feeling pretty horny himself, right Billy?”
“I have been thinking about it a lot, I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to do it
again, that it might be broken or something.”
“Well Pam, you’ve already got the gel on your hands why don’t you do the
honors and see if it’s broken.”
Pam wrapped one hand around his cock and cradled his low nut’s with the other
and performed a gentle and lovingly hand job on the boy. Within a few minute
Billy closed his eye’s and pushed his hips forward to meet Pam’s stroking hand
and with a loud moan he began to give up his seed to her. The young boy shot
his first load and hit her in the face. Pam was ready for the second with an
open mouth. When Billy was finished a wide smile was on her face as she closed
her mouth and swallowed his offering.
“Jill I have to tell you something funny, when he started to cum it felt like
his balls were doing a little dance in my hand kinda like they wanted to jump
up and down!”
“Are you sure Pam because they do tend to go up anyway.”
“Really, it’s like they were going up and down like a yoyo!”
“Let’s let Billy rest awhile and we’ll see.”
Billy was excited and happy that everything still work and as we sat and
talked his cock was for the most part still erect . Pam and I thought that
Billy should continue to stay with us the rest of the summer and that we would
also be nude as much as we could. In a couple of weeks we would put weights
back on his balls to stretch the skin because I thought that it was the only
thing keeping his testicles from going even lower. He would also sleep in my
bed with me and I would make a longer cord for the leather parachute so the
weight could hang over the foot of the bed, that way we could keep them
stretched all the time.
“OK Billy, time to see if your balls act like Mexican jumping beans like Pam
says.”
Pam and I removed all our clothes and forgot that Billy has never see us
completely nude before! Billy looked at us as if he had just found the lost
treasure!
“I’m sorry Billy I forgot myself, come here give me your hand.”
I took his hands and placed them first on my large breasts, he squeezed them
softly then cupped them and lifted them as if to guess there weight, then I
took his hand an moved it slowly down my stomach till it reached my pubic
hair, then I let him explore on his own.
I felt some thing wet on my feet and looked down, there from his cock head was
a long steady trail of precum down to my feet.
“Pam I think you better get the jar, very shortly there’s going to be a
deposit.”
I instructed Pam to keep the jar close to his cock because I thought I could
make him cum without touching his penis! He was close the shooting now with
his first touch of a woman’s pussy and I was pretty certain that he had never
had a real sexual kiss!
“Billy look at me, look at my mouth.”
I held his face in my hands and slowly brought our lip’s together. My tongue
parted his lip’s and found his tongue. I could hear low sounds from his throat
and his breathing short and fast, then he exploded!!
“Oh Jill you did it, look at this cum my God!”
My mouth didn’t leave his, I enjoyed this first kiss and I wanted it to last
for this boy, I didn’t want him ever to forget!
“Whew, that was some kiss young man, we’ll do that some more later if you’d
like.”
“Oh please, yes please.”
After we all had a cup of coffee Pam was excited to show me how Billy’s nut’s
bounced and down when he ejaculated so we pulled our chairs together and had
Billy stand in front of us. Billy wanted to see it also, he was beginning to
enjoy his newly altered love orbs.
Pam told me to just hold the jar and she would do all the work.
As Pam jerked his cock Billy and I watched intently as his nuts swung between
his leg’s.
“Oh Pam I can feel it coming, I’m going to shoot!”
Pam slowed her stroking so his balls were hanging still. After a few more easy
pumps of her hand the boy’s testicles started to jump up and down.
“Oh shit!! I was watching his balls and not were the jar was, most of it went
on my leg’s.”
“I’ll get it as soon as I clean Billy up.”
Pam licked his dick clean of it’s spunk and then got down on her knees and
started with my leg’s. I’ve never had a lesbian experience before but in my
turned on state Pam’s tongue was wonderful on my leg’s. She was going after
the spunk the ran down the inside of my thighs, I helped her by spreading
them. I touched her head and started to caress her hair. Oh God! Does she know
that she’s licking my pussy juice leaking from me and not his cum!!
“Oohhh Pam, please finish me off! Do me, please!”
“I thought you’d never ask luv.“
Pam licked and fingered my hot wet pussy with abandonment. I almost slide off
the chair when my orgasm started shaking my stomach muscles and the warm
tingling sensation of my climax run through my body. I climaxed for what I
felt was an eternity.
I finely stopped my delightful spasm’s and looked at Pam who’s face was
covered with my pussy juice and smiled, “thank you lover, now I’ll do you!”
Billy was jacking off to beat the band as Pam and I traded place’s on the
chair.
“Did you enjoy watching us Billy?”
“Yes that was great!!”
“Most men do Billy!”
Pam was in the chair and I was between her leg’s. The horny little bitch was
sopping wet! I put 2 fingers in between the folds of her cunt lips and lifted
her protruding clit higher so I could suck on the glistening jewel. My new
lover was squirming all over the chair as I toyed with her slippery sex. It
wasn’t long before she was holding my head while she fucked my face to a huge
climactic explosion!
Billy was pounding is meat so hard that his balls were bouncing wildly between
his leg’s.
As he reached his climax he held the jar to his cock head and added to his
collection.
“Oh Billy, your such a good boy !”
And so the rest of the summer went with the three of us spending as much time
together as we could.
Billy thought he had died an gone to heaven. He started to come out of his
shell and was really fun to have around besides just using him as a sex toy.
Pam was happy, she had Billy’s wonderful nuts to play with and was having her
wet cunt serviced regularly by Billy and me.
I’m happy too, I enjoy having both Billy and Pam around. I love Pam’s tireless
tongue attacking my pussy daily and Billy is always a source of amusement.
We tossed all of Billy’s boxer shorts and bought him jockey’s. He learned very
quickly to be aware of his long nut sack, like whenever he sat down, one day
we were catching some sun in the back yard and his balls had dropped down
through the webbing in the chair and when he got up to go to the house he
started to drag the chair behind him.
We also had to be careful in bed with him as we slept not to roll over on his
“guy’s”.
Billy loved his balls and we loved Billy’s balls, we had a lot of enjoyment
with them.
By keeping the weights on them and using the warming gel on his scrotum they
managed to hang by there own weight to just below his knee’s.
When it came time for him to leave we had a party for him, the three of us.
That night we let him have intercourse with us even though we said we
wouldn’t. Billy’s dick was dripping precum in anticipation as we all got onto
the bed. Billy fucked Pam first while I held his balls out of harms way. Then
he mounted me without taking a rest. Don’t ya just love young men’s stamina!
As Billy pumped his cock like a piston Pam had put his balls in her mouth and
was humming, a tune I think!
Billy left for collage and Pam and I were left to our selves. We had become
deeply in love with each other but talked about Billy often. Pam thought of
the possibility of finding another young set of balls to “modify” but we only
talked about it nothing more.
Billy called every week, he had become somewhat of a campus celebrity. After
his first date word got around the female alumni about his physical attribute.
Soon he was the hit of the all girl sorority house’s. He would tell us of
being circled by 10 or 15 young girls will he jerked his cock and they took
turns playing with and pulling on his nut’s.
We waited for his weekly calls to hear of his latest “ball fest”.
About the middle of the second semester we didn’t receive any call for 3
weeks! Then one day Billy called. At first it didn’t sound like him, his voice
was week and full of despair. He started to tell of his terrible experience
three weeks before.
Billy had gone to a party that was to be all girls. Things started out as
normal, he saw a few new faces but that was normal because someone always told
a friend. They stripped him as usual and lubed his nut sack with the ky gel.
Things were going great, the girls were having a few beer’s and everyone was
enjoying his swinging nut’s when a group of guy’s, 5 of the football team
showed up. They were drunk and started to push him around and make fun of his
low nuts. Soon they had him held so he couldn’t move and were pulling and
stretching the balls to see how far they would reach. The girls were going
along with them edging them on. Soon one of them took his nuts and tied a knot
out of his scrotum and pulled it as tight as he could. Billy was in a lot of
pain as he tried to untie
them but they were too slippery and it was to tight a knot. As Billy tried,
every one laugh as his poor nut’s turned purple. All the girls sat around him
on the floor and giggled as his poor nut’s were dying.
“Oh Bill, feel how cold your baby makers are getting!”
“Billy you won’t be able to jack off any more, oh poor Billy”
He finally was able to leave the sorority house and make it to the hospital
but it was to late. They had to remove them!
That night after the phone call from Billy, Pam and I lay in bed and talked
about and how bad we felt for Billy.
“Jill, I can’t help feeling horny as hell talking about Billy nut’s being tied
in a knot like that, is that wrong of me?”
“I don’t know if it’s wrong, I suppose it is! But I know I want you to give
this pussy of mine a damn good licking fast!”
“Lets do a bedtime 69!”
“Lets”
The End
[email protected]
* * * |
MOM AND ME 2 | BI, TESTICLES, MINOR | The further ball busting adventures of Diana and her mom | ` `
MOM AND ME 2 By Ms. Athena
Hi, it’s me again Diana, the precocious 12 year old lesbian ball buster. Last
time I told you that I might tell you another story about mom and me, so here
goes. If you remember from last time after mom showed me how to bust a man’s
balls we made love for the first time. I was only 8 years old, and could not
climax, but it sure felt great when mom licked my pussy. Of course my first
taste of her love juice was wonderful. Since then we have been sleeping with
each other every night, making love before going to sleep, and again when we
get up in the morning. I have also seduced, and made love to all the girls in
my class, and even my teacher, Miss. Cutter. I have gotten Miss. Cutter to let
me punish all the boys who are bad in class by kicking them in their balls.
She watches getting hot, and wishing she could do it herself, but as the
teacher she can’t. Then when the boys are dismissed we make love. Who says
school can’t be fun.
Once a month mom goes to another town to find a man to bring to the cabin so
we can have fun taking away his manhood. It was just before my 9th birthday,
and mom told me that she would have a special birthday treat in store for me
at the cabin. When I asked her what it was, all she would say is you’ll see.
On the day before my birthday mom went off on what she called "The Hunt". So I
knew she was getting a man for our cabin fun. Since we did that every month, I
thought that he would not be my treat. I was wrong. When mom took me to the
cabin the next day instead of a man hanging from the rafter there was a boy a
little older than me hanging there. He is all yours Diana, mom said have fun
and enjoy him.
He was already crying, the cloth blindfold was soaked with his tears. He was
calling for his mommie, as if she were there to protect him, before I even
started on him. See Diana, mom said, he is a little older than you, physically
bigger and stronger than you, but like all males he is a weakling. Who does he
call for to help him? His father, no. it is his mother, he calls for. Like all
males he secretly knows that the female is the stronger sex. It is the female
who should rule. Like all men he secretly hates his cock, and balls that make
him a male. He secretly wishes that a woman like me, or a girl like you Diana,
would take away the manhood he hates so much. He secretly wishes that he had
been born a girl. Remember Diana it is women, and girls like us who make his
secret wishes come true.
I had done men with mom, but never on my own before. Besides this boy was
shorter than a man, and kicking his balls would not be the problem that
kicking a full grown man’s balls had been. So the first thing I did was kick
him as hard as I could right in his balls. He screamed when my foot hit his
balls. This is so much fun, I said to mom. What a wonderful birthday present.
I picked out a small whip, and began to whip his cock, and balls. I looked
over at mom, she was already undressed, and was fingering herself as she
watched me. Her love juices were flowing. I stopped whipping him long enough
to go to mom, and lick her delicious love juice from the lips of her pussy.
I went to our toy cabinet, and took out a candle. Mom lit it for me. Then I
let the hot wax drip all over his cock, and balls. He screamed, and cried so
delightfully. Following that I held the lit candle under his balls singing
them. What great fun I was having. I blew out the candle. Then I stripped, and
went over to mom. She started to rub my pussy as I licked, and sucked on one
of her nipples. Mom picked me up, and carried me into the other room. We lay
on the bed making love to the music of his sobbing. She fingered my little
pussy, and sucked on my budding breasts. Then I got between her legs, and
licked her to climax. It was wonderful. Although I was still not able to
climax as violently as mom, when she licked, and sucked on my little clit, I
could feel the stirring of my awakening womanhood.
Having finished our lovemaking I went back to the hanging boy. I walked
quietly so he had no idea that I was standing in front of him. Then to make
him aware of my presence, I kicked him sharply in his balls. How he howled,
and how I laughed it was so much fun, I kicked his balls again. Then I went to
a cabinet, and took out a handful of medium sized alligator clips with sharp
teeth. I pulled the loose skin of his cock out, and place a few of the clips
on it. The rest of the clips I placed all around his ball sack. With the clips
in place I once again whipped his cock and balls. He was screaming so
delightfully, and calling for his mommie. What a fun birthday present mom had
gotten for me. I could see little beads of blood where the clips bit into, and
pierced his skin. Not wanting him to get an infection, I rubbed salt into his
wounds. How he screamed, and cried his blindfold was soaked with his tears.
There was still some little room on his cock, but I was out of clips, so I
went and got some of the needles, and shoved as many as I could through his
cock. Mom came over, and told me that he did make a nice pin cushion. She
laughed, and I laughed. See Diana, mom said, he loves his pain so much his
cock is begging for more. His cock seemed to be growing larger, which just
gave me more room to push through more needles. With the clips, and needles in
place I took a short whip and began to whip his cock, and balls as hard as I
could. I was having such a good time. Hurting men and boys is the best fun a
girl can have. Well if not the best a very close second to making love to a
woman. I was feeling that urge in my pussy again, so I started to finger
myself with one hand as I whipped his cock and balls with my other hand. Mom
came over to me and began to play with my nipples. I could feel my little girl
orgasm building, and it felt so good.
Would my baby like to try another way to hurt men, mom asked me. Oh yes mom, I
replied hurting men is so much fun, I want to do it in any way I can. Mom went
to cabinet and brought out a length of wooden dowel 18 inches long, and 2
inched in diameter. One end was covered by a rubber bicycle hand grip, 10
inches of the other end was covered with very course sand paper. She handed me
the dowel. Then she pulled his ass cheeks apart, exposing his asshole. Now my
darling Diana shove it in his ass as hard, and as deep as you can, mom said. I
shoved the dowel into his as hard, and as deep as I could. He screamed so
delightfully. Pull it partially out mom told me, then shove it back in. When I
did the sandpaper was covered with shit, and blood. I continued to pull it
out, and shove it back in. Each time more, and more blood was on it. There was
even blood dripping out of his ass, and down his legs. This new game was so
much fun.
Playing the new game was getting me hot, so I started fingering myself. Mom
took my arm and led me to the bed in the other room for another round of love
making. She sucked on my little nipples, and fingered me till I had my little
girl climax, then I got between her legs and licked her to climax. Our love
making was heightened by the sounds of the boy screaming, and crying in the
next room. I thought how lucky I was to have a mom who knows such wonderful
fun games to play with men and boys, and such a wonderful way to make me feel
good. Like mom told me it is not every little girl who gets to play such fun
games with her mom, and gets to feel so good. The boy was the best birthday
present that any girl could get from her mom.
When we finished making love, mom said that it was getting late, and that I
should finish with the boy. I went over to him, and removed the clips, and
needles from his cock and balls. Then I kicked him in the balls a couple of
more times. It was time for me to crush his balls, but I didn’t want to use
the pliers, I wanted to do something more dramatic. I had mom take him down
from the beam, and tie him spread eagle to rings in the floor. I walked
between his legs, and put my foot on one of his balls. Then I balanced all my
weight on that foot. I could feel his ball flattening under foot. He screamed
so loud that I could not hear the pop as his ball exploded, but I could feel
it go all squishy. Then I did the same to his other ball. Busting his balls
with my foot was so much more fun than doing it with the pliers. I never
enjoyed myself so much.
Then mom gave him a shot to put him to sleep, and she dragged him to the car.
He was put into the trunk, and we drove him back to the town where mom found
him. We left him naked in an alley, then we drove home where mom had another
surprise waiting for me. She had invited some of my girlfriends from school
over for a surprise birthday pajama party. We stayed up all night playing
games. We dressed up in mom’s clothes and had tea parties with our dolls. Then
mom taught us a new game that was so much fun. We sat in a circle and I spun a
bottle. The girl it pointed to had to make love to me, then she had her turn
spinning the bottle. It was the best birthday I ever had.
* * * |
Simon's Summertime Adventures | BI, TESTICLES, MINOR | Simon occasionally suffers frustrations from his netered state, but he and his boy-eunuch friends round up a terrorist cell. | July, five o’clock on a Sunday afternoon: the end of another weekend’s leave-
of-absence. Returning on the bus took longer than the train but was more
restful and still got me back in time for call-over.
At The Lemon Tree café at the terminus I bought myself a Coke and a burger,
and thought over the past few days. First, Roddy.
Roddy was in the middle of a blazing row, that was nothing to do with him, and
all because he slept bare. Mixing intact boys and boy-eunuchs in the same dorm
was bound to lead to trouble, and the week before, it had done just that.
Have I ever mentioned Sandie Ross? If not, Sandie was thirteen, very fair,
with a peaches-and-cream complexion, and had his balls pricked for the same
reason as I had - to prevent him shafting his cousins. Like me, he’d been
caught in the act (the girl had been screaming for it but the boy always gets
the blame); like me, he'd been rushed off to be neutered, without other
options. I should have spotted this earlier, you know, the way that some boys
act right after it's done, but I digress.
So far as that went, his operation had been very successful. Always rather
chubby, he now had a tiny pink acorn almost invisible between his thighs.
Harmless where females were concerned, neutering had not made him any less
sexy. Sandie was ready for anything, including being a substitute girl. He had
begun to make regular nightly visits to the bed of MacVittie, the dorm
captain, to “have a homo” as the current expression was. Perhaps it's odd
cases like this that confirm the notion that boy-eunuchs enjoy being bum-boys.
While Sandie might have liked it, I certainly didn't.
Anyhow, the Masters patrolled the dorm building at intervals. The job of
lookout had fallen to Michael Banner, another boy-eunuch, this time from the
reign of Dr. Jolly, when new boys were getting neutered at the rate of two or
three a month. Unwisely, Roddy had agreed to swap beds with Banner, so that
Banner could have a better view through the door and down the corridor.
Most Masters just flashed a torch inside the door and passed on. But Mr
Trefusis was more thorough, and came right in. At this moment, MacVittie had
his cock right up Sandie Ross’s arse, having a “homo” – but this went
unnoticed for a few moments. After all, discretion was the better part
of...whatever.
“Banner, what are you doing in Fisher’s bed?” demanded Mr Trefusis. “Get back
to your own beds at once. I’ll need an explanation in the morning. And,” (as
he spotted the empty bed) – “WHERE’S ROSS”?
Roddy and Banner had obediently hopped out of bed, both in the nude. Next
morning, both in turn ended up in front of Dr. Holroyd, the Headmaster, who by
this time had seen MacVittie and Sandie Ross already. Following this, Ross and
MacVittie were quarantined, while Dr. Holroyd decided what to do next.
MacVittie’s stained and filthy bed-sheets were evidence enough. Sex was one
thing, but the two were hopelessly under-age. Still, they were both underage
at the same time, and the adults had probably had to deal with this before.
When it came to Roddy, Dr. Holroyd knew that he was my protégé, of sorts – and
gave _me_ quite a grilling. But I knew there was nothing, really, to connect
Roddy with MacVittie’s nocturnal goings-on, and so I confidently backed
Roddy’s own story. First, that he always slept bare, winter and summer alike;
second, that he’d agreed with Banner to swap beds experimentally and they had
both meant to ask permission officially, next morning.
So Roddy was off the hook, it seemed. My thoughts then turned to Melanie, and
the weekend I’d just spent with her. Nothing was too much trouble for Melanie,
the dear darling girl, to make our sessions exciting. I might have been Arnold
Schwarzenegger, with seven inches or more of rampant uncontrollable flesh,
instead of – _what I was_. And you know all about that already.
Yesterday she’d had hold-up stockings on, with lacy tops. I could still feel
the imprint of the pattern on my cheeks, as she squeezed my head between her
adorable soft thighs as orgasm ripped through her and her love-juices filled
my mouth. She liked me to gently squeeze her nipples, at the same time putting
my tongue as far up her vagina as possible and move it around. I always
remembered, when doing this, that she wasn’t a virgin: that before we met, she
had been with a boy and had felt a real, full-length cock up there.
Usually, we would also play her favorite game of "Ride the Gelding", which
involved (as you know) me being cleaned out with a good filling enema and then
literally ridden by Melanie with her wearing a strap-on dildo which went up my
bum. However, given the last time, she didn't ask and I didn't offer. I was
still a bit confused about the last episode of it, to be honest.
Once I’d mentioned this and asked, rather timidly, if she wouldn’t have
preferred me intact, so that I could "do it to her properly." She smiled and
stroked my hair, and told me she preferred me as I was, with no balls.
Earlier, she had asked me – as she always did – to tell her about my
castration, and drooled at the mouth as I told her the old – and for me the
very stale – story of how I got my balls pricked. But for how long would her
obsession last? Right now castration fascinated her – I was in the same
bracket as her pony Diamond, who trotted around with a neat black triangle
wagging between his haunches, where once he’d had a pair of balls the size of
a cottage loaf. Would she grow out of it and become, like Mark’s Wendy, a
normal healthy girl, who needed a normal healthy, intact boy?
I guess that's why I'd asked. It was more for my own peace of mind than hers.
What would happen to me - and Mark - when and if that ever happened? What if
the girls grew bored of their exotic boy-eunuchs?
Mention of Wendy then made me think about Mark. He was the greatest of my
worries just then. Guilt about the past and fears for the future were
destroying him – and on top of that, he had become dangerously ill.
Some time before, Mark had grown very depressed by the thought that he was no
more than “a singing eunuch” – unable to do more than fumble and fondle and
kiss. He longed to get his neutering operation reversed and had pinned his
hopes on some pioneering work being done by a Professor Zuniger at the
University of Göttingen. The Professor had agreed to see him, and Mark had
gone to Germany, very much on a “high”. That was only ten days ago. Returning,
he’d phoned from the bus terminus; would I please go meet him; he had a lot to
tell me.
The Lemon Tree – where I now was – was deserted that day apart from two old
women in a corner. It looked as if they'd partaken once too often of the Lemon
Tree's feature drink - a vile concoction that turned one's face inside-out. I
proposed a hot drink and a Toastie instead, and waited for Mark to make the
first moves. Clearly the visit to the doctor wasn’t all he’d hoped for.
It also looked like he'd put on a bit more weight.
“The Professor was very nice,” he began at last. “He called me “Lieber Herr
Maitland” all the time.” He paused.
“The good news is that I’m structurally intact,” said Mark after a time. “He
inserted a micro-probe up you-know-where, pretty uncomfortable that was - and
found my cords, all coiled up, with a tiny little nodule on the end of each
one. This was good, apparently, although all the male tissue was very wasted –
actually he said 'werry vasted'. He doesn't think there's any nerve damage
either." Mark managed a faint smile as he imitated the Professor’s thick
Teutonic accents.
“The less good news,” he continued after a bit (did I detect a slight wobble
of his chin?) is that it’s all going to take much longer than I thought. That
magazine article had suggested it would all be done in a few weeks. That was
misleading; I’m really looking at over a year, or nearer two. And
there...there could be some nerve damage, but...
“There’s no problem with getting the material, anyway. Auntie Cathy is
pregnant again and the Prof. can obtain cord blood and so on, by arrangement
with her GP.” (Mark had lost his parents some years before, but his father had
had a much younger sister “Auntie Cathy” who already had four small children –
this one would be Number Five). I couldn't help but to wonder if SHE had got
custody of him, if his life might have turned out differently.
“He has to do several cultures, you see, and test for compatibility, then do
the implants, and…,” This time his chin was really wobbling.
“Simon, suppose it’s no good after all – that it doesn’t work?” He stared at
me wide-eyed and all of a sudden, burst into a storm of uncontrollable tears.
This was a first for Mark, and I was taken aback.
“Don’t leave me, Simon! Please! Don’t leave me – not like this – not the way I
am!” Sobs shook his body as he buried his face in my neck.
It had all finally caught up with him.
He had got himself neutered for the sake of his cherished singing career – it
seemed a trivial thing at age eleven, going on twelve - but now it seemed as
if his singing career might be prolonged indefinitely. He might be wealthy
enough to buy himself a manor-house on the Thames, but he would live there as
a recluse – a freak, locked in the travesty of a child’s body, parentless,
friendless, totally and completely alone.
It sent chills through me, as if someone had just stepped on my grave, as the
old saying goes.
How do you comfort somebody of your own age, as distressed as this? Mark
continued to sob his heart out, and his tears soaked through my shirt.
“Whoever mentioned leaving you, silly mutt!” I murmured. “Silly sausage – of
course I won’t leave you – not ever!”
About then I began to realize just WHY I'd asked Melanie what I had asked.
Very suddenly, I understood Mark totally.
Adults always seem to interfere when least wanted. I was conscious of someone
standing nearby, and looked up. It was one of the old women.
“What yer bin syin’ to ‘im then?” she demanded, belligerently.
“He’s just had some bad news,” I said, unwisely. “He’s a bit upset, that’s
all”.
The old woman stayed where she was. She was ugly, and a bit smelly also. “I
dunno about bad news,” she returned.
I lost my temper. “Well, I do!” I burst out. (I was beginning to sound shrill,
a bad sign). “And it’s nothing to do with you, so will you leave us, please?”
The old woman began, “I dunno as I oughter…,” but I’d had enough. I was very
near tears myself. “Oh please, drop it!” I cried. The old woman withdrew,
grumbling.
I helped Mark back towards school, stopping in a quiet spot to clean his face:
his own hankie was filthy so I used mine. He was still sniffing, but seemed to
be calming down. Something was knocking around in my brain as well, something
about nerves and nerve damage, but I couldn't lay a finger on it. I made a
mental note about it, though.
However, fate had something else to throw at us, it seemed. Just inside the
school's main gates, Mark stumbled. His face turned red, white and then red
again. “Oh, Simon!” he gasped, and collapsed at my feet.
I ran back to the phone box on the street corner – empty, fortunately – and
rang the infirmary. Nurse arrived in her car a few minutes later. I figured
that she'd just prescribe her usual enema for Mark (and find some excuse to
give ME one, too!). After all, she was rather a silly person but today she
turned up trumps, helping me stow Mark in the car and taking him straight down
to Casualty. She had her own suspicions, which the hospital confirmed later.
Mark had meningitis.
Since then Mark had been in intensive care and all I could get from Nurse was
that “he was as well as could be expected.” That was last week, and I couldn't
help but wonder if he'd picked up the bug from the doctor who'd examined him.
It had to be a bad omen. Then I shook my head. I was being foolish, omens,
indeed.
Today I finished my burger and walked on to the school alone. Someone was
coming to meet me, though. I recognised Graham "Jack" Elliott, and he looked
excited.
“Awee, the lads!” was Jack’s greeting (he became effusively Geordie at times
like this.) “Simon, you’re in the nick of time. We’ve something to show you”.
Jack led the way up a side path, and I quickly found out who “we” were. Three
faces appeared from the bushes on either side, two white and freckled, one
coffee-coloured. Manchit Khannah and the Roebuck twins.
We emerged on to a tarmac-ed area behind the school kitchens, a place where
the trash cans were kept, and where the domestic staff parked their cars. The
old steward came out of his cubby-hole and glared at us, but retreated without
saying anything.
“Wasn’t he in some sort of trouble, a while ago?" asked Jamie Roebuck.
“Fiddling with boys’ cocks in the cinema,” replied his twin. Manchit giggled.
“Before we do anything,” I said, “you’ve forgotten call-over. Who’s duty
master?"
“Mr Meredith” Jack replied.
“That’s okay then” I said. “Jon, go and get us all marked off”. (Strict
masters insisted that all boys were present AT six p.m. Easy-going ones were
satisfied if they reported BY six p.m., and old Merry, in his sixties, was the
easiest of all.)
“I already did,” said Jon.
“What’s all this, then?" I asked.
The print of a shoe in the muddy ground at the edge of a carpark may not sound
much to get excited about. What the twins, out exploring, had noticed, was the
direction it was leading in. A narrow path led from here into the trees, and
of all the off-limits areas round the school, this was the most strictly off
limits, for the very good reason that it led to dangerous ground. Whoever had
gone that way posed a mystery.
“Are we going then?" asked Jack.
It was not an attractive spot. The trees were old and fungus-ridden, the path
overgrown. The footprints, however, led firmly on. In a short time we came to
a deep fold in the ground, with lumps of concrete and deep holes, some of them
full of water, and a dilapidated-looking bridge. This was the remains of the
old canal, that had once crossed the Sussex Weald and reached the coast at a
small tidal basin, still in active use as a marina.
A grim story was attached to the old canal – one I’d learned from quiet, self-
effacing James Brotherton, a dayboy who lived locally. Given to nervously
asking me, “Scott, you’re a brainy sort of chap, can you explain so-and-so”,
he would come out with all sorts of fascinating things if encouraged -
Like how that in the 1850’s the main school building had been a country house,
the home of an idle young peer, Lord Starborough. One autumn night His
Lordship was giving a grand ball to his guests. The previous summer had been
the wettest on record, and the canal bank was dangerously rotten. Without
warning, part of it collapsed, releasing not only the canal but the pent-up
water in the reservoir, at a higher level. Bursting through the windows, the
torrent flooded the ballroom twelve feet deep. Twenty of the dancers were
drowned or crushed.
The canal went out of use. Later owners of the house sealed off the reservoir
as an ornamental lake. The ballroom was demolished – local people said that on
wet windy nights they could still hear the frenzied screaming of those trapped
inside. Still, others said that on moonlit lovely evenings, one could sneak a
peek and see their ghostly forms still dancing the night away - almost if
trying to finish the evening that had not been.
And later still, the founders of our school had bought the building.
The footprints stopped on the dry surface of the bridge but started again,
distinct and firm, on the other side. It was at this point that Jon Roebuck
announced that he needed to pee. All the others followed, and pulled their
shorts down. (None of them were able to pee through the leg anymore and the
Roebuck twins, who had only very small genitals before getting neutered, were
the worst affected of all).
“For God’s sake,” I hissed, after looking at the row of bare bums, three
white, one brown, longer than I wanted to, “This isn’t a Tiny Cock
competition! Let’s get on, if we’re going”.
At the top of a slippery bank a stretch of stagnant weedy water came into
view, about 400 yards wide at its broadest point. According to Jimmy
Brotherton, this place, too, had concealed a gruesome secret for several
decades. In the Eighties the abandoned lake had been drained by the police,
searching for a cache of stolen drugs. With the water all gone there had
appeared, muddy and draped in weeds but intact, the hulk of a World War II
Dakota. Its flaps and undercarriage were down as if for landing. Four
skeletons in flying suits were strapped into their seats. Indications were
that the pilot, searching for a landing ground in a bad light, had mistaken
the greenish opaque surface for a field.
The overgrown path, the stagnant lake, the white shelf-fungi on the trees –
the place gave me the horrors, but the rest wanted to push on. At the far end,
a slimy shallow creek appeared to bar the way, but it was Manchit who led us
to a rotten leaky boat which, dragged across the stream, made a sort of
causeway.
Jack Elliott whistled through his teeth on seeing it. “Awee, the lads!” he
exclaimed, not for the first time. I glared at him.
Mud and water squelched beneath the boat’s decaying planking as, one after the
other, we filed across. On the far side, trees gave way to rough grass and
scrub, but more importantly the footprints pounded on. Not, it seemed, for a
lot further; in front there loomed a twelve-foot-tall chain-link fence, with a
very solid look to it and razor wire at the top. It was the perimeter of Hill
Rise army camp, which little Harry Ricketts had pointed out to us almost as
soon as he'd arrived at the school. Harry was a military fanatic after all,
and probably the only boy to ever survive a Neutersol treatment and recover
from it as a functional male, but that's another story.
When we reached the fence, we knew. One panel of the fence had been cut, very
cleverly, so that it peeled back like a gate. Disguised by scrub and climbing
plants the break was invisible until you looked carefully.
“This,” said Jamie Roebuck “is where we found Exhibit A”. From his shorts
pocket he produced something yellow – the foil-lined wrapper of a Kodak 35mm
high-speed film. Someone had been very careless.
“Did you go through?” I asked. All four shook their heads.
“Then what are we waiting for?" I asked. “One at a time. Across to that first
hut. Then down on your belly. Jack – you’re first. Move!”
In the lee of the hut, we re-grouped. I was sure we hadn’t been seen – there
seemed to be no one about, and the huts unoccupied. Very cautiously I moved
round to the end. There were steps there, and a door with a stencilled number:
75. In the gravel at the foot of the steps I found something that wasn’t a
pebble. An old padlock, the hoop cut through. This might mean that the door of
the hut would open. It did. I beckoned the others to follow.
Once inside, all five of us sat on a rusty iron bedstead and re-grouped again.
All of this was very strange indeed.
“Who?” asked Jack Elliott.
“When?” asked Jon.
“Why?” asked Jamie.
Manchit said nothing at first, but then said, “I think we can work out when
our visitor came here. Those prints are fresh, but not sharp enough to have
been made today. It rained last night. It also rained the night before. I
believe the prints are not more than a day old. If older, they would be less
distinct”.
Friday night then, or Saturday morning.
Jack spoke next. “They are big prints, size 11 I’d say. You’ve got the biggest
feet, Scott – what do you take – an eight? Thought so. Now suppose our man is
someone from school, it’s got to be a senior”.
“Or a master,” put in Jon. “And they are unusual prints. Trainers obviously,
but not Adidas, or Reebok, or Nike. They could be Bata.”
“Bata shoes are made in India,” said Manchit. “And in eastern Europe”.
We weren’t getting very far. And “why” was the most baffling question of all.
The Kodak film wrapper was an intriguing clue. Someone had loaded a camera
outside the gap in the wire, but what was there to photograph? Wild life,
perhaps - that would explain a zoom lens and high speed film. Then the
padlock. Why cut through a padlock to get inside a completely empty hut?
Suddenly I had a thought.
“Jack, come with me,” I said. “The rest of you stay here and keep quiet.”.
Jack and I moved very quietly outside, to the neighbouring hut 74. Like 75,
the windows were protected by stout wire mesh; unlike 75 the door was
padlocked.
Crouching down I made Jack stand on my shoulders, then straightened up so that
he could see through the window. “What’s inside?” I asked.
“Boxes,” said Jack. “Brown boxes, with yellow lettering on. The one nearest to
me says '3.5 mortar HE, mark VII Z, batch something', I can’t read the rest”.
“How many boxes?”
“Dozens. Hundreds even. Some larger, some smaller”.
Ammunition. Tons and tons of ammunition, of all kinds. I thought I knew, now,
what had drawn our visitor. What he had done after that, though, was still to
be answered. And suddenly my heart skipped a beat. There was something I’d
totally overlooked. We’d been so intent on following the footprints that we’d
altogether failed to spot that they all went the same way.
That meant one of two things – either that our visitor was still in the camp –
not very likely if Manchit was right and the prints were a day old – or that
there was another way in – and out, additional to the camp’s main gate, where,
as I knew, there were guards.
I was explaining all of this, in a low voice, to the other three, in the
shelter of Hut 75, when the matter of an alternative entrance was explained in
an altogether unexpected way. All of us suddenly heard the sound of feet on
gravel, then the different sound of feet pushing through the long tangled
grass. The feet stopped. We froze. Very, very slowly I moved to the window and
cautiously peeped over the sill.
The newcomers were a boy and girl, both about sixteen. Locals. They were
holding each other close when I first saw them, but very quickly drew apart to
take off their jeans, which they laid on the grass. I saw the boy’s enormous
rigid cock, the triangle of brown hair between the girl’s thighs as she took
off her knickers. I watched the boy put a condom on; saw the girl and lie down
with her knees raised and her legs open, for the boy to shag her…
I’d seen enough – I couldn’t bear to watch something I should never be able to
do. Carefully I moved away, motioning to the others to keep quiet.
A few minutes later the footsteps again sounded on the gravel, growing fainter
now and dying away. “What was all that?” asked Jon.
“Nothing to do with us” I said. “Now, unless we want a search party after us,
we’d better get back to school double quick”.
With no need to stop and search the ground for footprints we covered the
distance in a fraction of the time. Other boys were finishing their tea – on
Sunday afternoons a moveable feast, tea, bread, butter and jam only. Entering
the dining hall we all ran straight into Mr Meredith. “Where on earth do you
think you’ve been?” he demanded.
“Sir, please sir, we’ve been on a fungus foray,” piped Jamie.
“Oh? And what fungi did you foray, may I ask?”
Jamie produced a battered notebook from his blazer pocket. “I’ve made a rough
list of specimens, sir. I was going to show it to Fisher – he’s the expert”.
Mr Meredith adjusted his glasses and began reading “Piptoporus betulinus,
birch bracket, Amanita muscaria, scarlet flycap, m-mmmm, very good, Roebuck,
very interesting.” Then he flicked his eyebrows and had handed the notebook
back.
Fortunately he omitted to ask where the “foray” had taken place. Instead we
were instructed to change our shoes – very muddy by now – and get our tea at
once.
“Where did you get that idea from?” I asked Jamie. “It was sheer genius.
Meredith’s nutty about nature study of any kind”.
“Just suddenly thought of it,” said Jamie. “Fortunately I’d got the book with
me. Those notes are months old”.
So that was that.
I still had some unfinished business, to solve the mystery of the camp gate,
but it had to wait for the time being. That night, lying in bed after lights
out, I began thinking about Mark again. Normally I’d hear his steady breathing
from the next cubicle on the right- he always dropped off to sleep very
quickly. But tonight there was silence.
On the left, there was a steady creak of bed-springs and that was Peter Keeble
jerking-off. It was a pity that Peter Keeble didn’t have a girl friend – it
seemed wrong that all that energy would go to waste on the leg of his pyjama-
bottoms. But Peter was thin and nervous, with sticky-out teeth and thick
National Health glasses with wire frames. Not the sort of boy that girls pull
their knickers down for.
There could have been an alternative - if he and his classmates had all got to
be neutered at eight or nine, say. They would never have developed male
genitals and wouldn’t understand what made them different from “intact” boys.
Of course, he would have found out by now, but would also have a better, more
placid lifestyle without this torment. But Peter Keeble had doting parents and
his father was a Vicar. Getting his balls pricked was definitely not on the
agenda, so every night he wanked himself silly.
Next day, which was Monday, was a full day in school, nine till five-thirty
then prep for the next hour. But I did find a few minutes to seek out Jimmy
Brotherton.
“Oh yes,” he said. “There’s a side gate right at the top of Hill Rise Estate –
the council houses, pretty rough area. It’s not used now”. I made a mental
note to go and look, as soon as I could.
The late evening news that night included an item that “thieves suspected of
connections with terrorist organisations were involved in raids on military
bases in the south of England”. I stored this away for future reference. Next
morning the local newspaper actually named Hill Rise Camp as one of the bases
and said that “the military authorities were conducting their own
investigations”.
Tuesday provided a good opportunity. I had a private-study hour before the
lunch break and I wasn’t due for fielding practice till three. Plenty of time
to go and explore. It would have taken a long time to do on foot, but at the
bus terminus I found a service that went all the way. I didn’t care for the
look of Hill Rise estate at all. Some of the houses were boarded up, there
were abandoned cars here and there, and a number of small children playing in
the road.
The bus ground up a steep hill and stopped. I was the only person to get down.
The roadway to the camp gate ran straight on. No one took any notice as I
walked straight towards it. The small brick building by the gate, no doubt
once a rest-room for the guards, was out of use, windows broken, paint
peeling. I took a good look at the gates themselves. As at Hut 75 there was a
broken padlock lying on the ground. The hinges had been greased. The roadway
itself was tarmac-ed, so no use looking for tyre marks, but there was no doubt
now. Recently – very recently – the gate had been used.
What I needed to do was to watch the place round the clock, and see who went
in and out – and that was out of the question. For a few moments I just stood,
undecided, frustrated at my own uselessness. Meanwhile an urchin of about ten
came out of one of the houses a long way down the hill. He gave me an idea.
I ran down the hill in long loping strides, and soon caught up with the
urchin. Standing with his feet apart, his back to the road, he could only be
doing one thing. "Hello!” I called out. “Been having a pee?”
The urchin nodded, as he shook the last drops off his penis. “Would you say,”
I pursued “you have a big prick or a little prick?”
“I’ve got a little prick,” replied the urchin. He held it out for my
inspection.
“But you’ve got a foreskin." He had too, and a good one, the loose skin
tapering to a tight point, just as nature intended.
“Yeah” agreed the urchin. “Not had it clipped off yet. Has yours been clipped
off?”
“And more besides,” I said.
The urchin stared at me, round-eyed. All boys of that age are always very
interested in anything to do with "down there", and that was my plan.
“Some boys,” I said “get to have their balls pricked. It’s done by a nurse or
doctor. They inject a drug into the boy’s balls and they dry up. The boy’s
cock shrinks also. I had it done so I wouldn’t be able to fuck girls”.
“Coo'!” said the urchin under his breath. “Show me," he demanded, in his thick
accent.
“Not out here,” I said. In response, the urchin towed me into the kitchen of a
derelict house across the street. “This is our hide-out” he said proudly, “and
this is the gang”.
The gang consisted of three other urchins and two small girls. “He’s got
something to show us,” explained my captor. No way out of it. I dropped my
shorts and gave them all a good look.
“Cor!” exclaimed one of the small girls. “E’s ‘ad ‘is balls cut off!”
“Jus' like they do an ‘orse,” commented one of the boys.
“Wrong,” I said. “They used to cut boys’ balls out like a horse’s, but not
now. They just prick a boy’s balls and inject a drug, and then they dry up”.
“Tell us how you were done,” demanded another of the boys, his mouth agape and
his eyes glazed. I knew that look.
I then spun them a highly-coloured story with a lot of invention, of having my
balls pricked as a punishment for “doing it” with a girl. That I had been the
most randy little devil, with big balls full of spunk, and a stiff cock that
all girls wanted to have up them (what a fib that was!) how I’d been caught in
the act and dragged off to the clinic then and there. I spoke of having my
clothes roughly torn off and being held down while they did it; I described
the vicious stab of the needle into my testicles (a howling lie since I’d been
anaesthetised and felt nothing) and how, afterwards, I’d had to watch them day
by day, first turning to mush then withering away. The last bit was literally
true and telling it nearly brought tears to my eyes.
I made a mental note about that. Lately, I'd been prone to that and it annoyed
me. Bursting into tears at odd times was not a good thing.
“And you can see,” I finished “how my cock has gone limp, and how small it is.
Smaller than yours, I bet, so I can never, ever, do the thing with a girl that
makes her start a baby”.
The little girl who’d said I’d “had my balls cut off” was staring, entranced,
at the thimble of flesh between my legs. “Can I touch?” she asked, and I
nodded. She extended a grimy paw and felt my penis. While she explored, all
the boys had meanwhile unzipped and were comparing their own cocks. I hadn’t
been wrong about that. The smallest was a good inch longer than mine, the
longest, half-hard, nearer two. All of them, I thought, were exactly the right
age to get their balls pricked.
“What’s yer name?” demanded my captor. (He pronounced it “nyme”).
“Who needs to know?” I replied.
“We do!” said another of the boys.
“I’m called Simon”.
“Soymon” repeated my captor. “I’m called Merv”. He thought a moment. “Soymon,
you’re all roight, you are. You got guts!” (Well, he couldn’t have said “you
got balls” now, could he?)
“Listen,” I said. “I need help, in something very, very secret. You know the
old camp gate at the top of the road”. Five tousled heads nodded.
“I seen a van there the other day,” said the smaller of the two girls. “White,
it was”.
“You saw a white van? That could be very, very important. Which day was it,
remember?”
She thought a moment. “Sat’day”.
“Some men have been inside the camp,” I went on. “They are very dangerous men
and they’ve been stealing explosives. Me and some friends of mine- we’re out
to trap them”.
“Cor!” said one of the boys. “Are they Ell Croyda?” (It took me a moment to
realise he was trying to say Al Qa’ida). Another disciple of the evening news,
I wondered, what with Tony Blair all over the telly and talking about it.
“Maybe,” I said. “Now, will you help? I need that gateway watched. Day and
night. And if you see anything – anything at all – get on the phone. Now, will
you?”
None of them spoke but their eyes were shining.
“Ring 877884 and ask for Simon Scott. Say it’s very urgent – that you must
speak to me personally – messages won’t do. Say the number”.
“Eight-seven-seven-eight-eight-four” they chanted. (Fortunate that the school
number was so easy to remember).
“Good. I knew I could count on you”. (Could I, I wondered; still, it was the
only hope.) “Now, do either of you girls know how to give a boy a nice time?”
The bigger of the two girls nodded. The boy next to her still had his jeans
unfastened. With grubby fingers she rolled his foreskin back, then forward,
then back again. When his cock went hard, she bent, and took it in her mouth
like a lollipop.
“Shall I do it to you? asked the smaller of the two girls.
I had pulled my PE shorts up but there seemed no reason not to take them down
again. I just closed my eyes - and enjoyed myself…… She did it very nicely and
in spite of her young age seemed well practised. Only after she seemed to
realize that I wasn't going to "do whut other boys did," did she stop. I left
my new team of watchers with regret!
I’m slipping again. I almost forgot to mention the Joggers’ Club. That was
something I had managed to arrange, in an otherwise useless day. Our
mysterious visitor to the camp, who had a camera and big feet, and who entered
it from the school, might or might not be connected with the ammunition thefts
but I was somehow convinced he must be. If he went there again – that could be
a sign that more thefts were imminent.
Jogging, two or three times round the building, was positively encouraged and
never queried. I roped in everyone who’d gone with me that day – Jack Elliott,
the Roebucks, Manchit Khannah, and several others who hadn’t, but who could be
trusted, to jog round the building whenever they had a free period and look
for fresh prints where we’d found the first. That way, the spot would be
visited several times during the day.
And as so often happens, there wasn’t anything to report. Neither on Tuesday
nor Wednesday. Perhaps the raiders had found another target.
Thursday was a different matter altogether. Soon after 9 o’clock assembly
little Calum Hislop bunked-off from PE, and, very excited, caught me on the
way to Advanced Maths at ten. There were more prints, fresh from the night
before.
Halfway through Advanced Maths the school clerk came into the room and spoke
to Mr Jackson, who spoke to me, rather irritably. “Scott, you have a telephone
call. I wish you’d tell your friends and relations not to ring in school
hours”. (Very unfair for the one-and-only time.)
It was Merv on the line. A white van was parked in the same place as before.
“Anyone in it?”
“Nah. They’ve scarpered into the camp”.
Desperately I thought what was to be done. “Let the tires down,” I said. “I’ll
bring reinforcements as soon as I can”. I rang off.
But who? Not Mr Jackson, who had no imagination and wouldn’t listen. Then in a
flash of inspiration I sought the music room – and Mr Trefusis.
Mr Trefusis looked up from his papers. “Well, Scott!” he began. “To what do I
owe this pleasure? Some crisis of a musical nature?” He scratched at a long
bluish chin – I was sure he needed to shave twice a day - a problem that I
knew I'd never have.
“No, sir, I mean, sir…” I stammered- but somehow got launched into the story,
ending with my guess that the thieves, plus someone probably from the school,
were in the camp at this moment.
Mr Trefusis sat back, with a strange little smile. “Scott,” he said “if I
didn’t know you as well as I do, I should take all this to be an almighty
spoof, and I should cane you across your bare bottom for wasting my time”.
“And you would end up behind bars, sir,” I said, greatly daring. (Caning in
schools had been outlawed for years).
“And quite right too,” responded Mr Trefusis. “But as things stand, me
‘andsome, I know you well enough to believe you’re probably right. Let’s go
and get in my car, quickly”.
I fairly glowed with relief. Once Mr Trefusis began using Cornish dialect (“Me
‘andsome” means “old chap” more or less) you knew he was firmly on your side.
Mr Trefusis drove directly to the camp main gate. I was anxious to know if
Merv and the others (I thought of them now as Merv’s Marauders) had
immobilised the van but there wasn’t time to go that way. A sentry directed us
to a building that had “ORDERLY ROOM” over the door. Inside were four trestle
tables doing duty as desks, a young sergeant, an even younger corporal, and
two clerks. Mr Trefusis spoke to the sergeant.
“We need to speak to your Commanding Officer,” he said “concerning the recent
thefts”.
“We don’t have a CO, sir,” said the sergeant. “Hill Rise isn’t an operational
camp. There’s only Mr Moore. He’s warrant-officer in charge”.
“Otherwise known as Old Bill,” said the more stupid-looking of the two clerks.
“Watch it, Bowers,” said the Sergeant. He led us down a passageway, to a door
with “SSM W MOORE” on it, and knocked. There was a grunt from inside. “He’s
there, sir” said the Sergeant. “I should just go in if I were you”.
I knew a little bit about Army ranks from Harry Ricketts. Staff Sergeant-Major
was as high as you could go, before you reached commissioned rank: Second
Lieutenant was the next step. But for the old man behind the desk, any chance
of commissioned rank had vanished long before.
I say “old” because though SSM Moore was probably no more than fifty, he
looked ten years older at least. He must have weighed seventeen stone, all of
it fat. He had the red-rimmed eyes of the chain-smoker.In front of him on his
desk – actually a six-foot trestle table with a blanket over it- was a jam-jar
full of cigarette butts. There was ash down the front of his combat jacket.
His badge of rank needed a polish and his peaked cap was long overdue for
replacement.
He looked up: he’d been working on a list which he’d headed BED LINNEN. Some
fat-faced people look jovial, like Santa Claus. SSM Moore wasn’t one of them.
Every line of his face registered disillusion and disappointment.
“Yus?” he began. “Who’s in charge?” He looked from Mr Trefusis to me, and back
again.
“Mr Moore,” began Mr Trefusis “we are from Southdown Hall School. My name
doesn’t matter for the moment. But this young man,” – he indicated me – "has
information of the greatest importance, concerning the break-ins at this camp,
and the theft of ammunition. We believe there are Al-Qa’ida connections. I
think you will be interested in what he has to say”.
SSM Moore grunted something which I took for agreement. He pushed BED LINNEN
away and took a clean sheet of paper. I stepped forward. “Sir,” I began
smartly. (Harry had told me that when addressing somebody of senior rank, that
was how you began and ended.)
Carefully, omitting nothing – not even the teenagers who’d come in for a shag
– I told him everything I’d seen. From time to time he stopped me, to write
something down. He found one thing very difficult. “When was you in Hut 75?”
he asked.
“Sunday night, sir”.
“You can’t a’ been. Sunday night Hut 75 was secure. Full of ammo. Break-in was
Monday”.
“Sir, on Sunday night Hut 75 was empty. The lock had been cut through and was
lying on the ground”.
SSM Moore glared. Mr Trefusis cut in. “He has four other boys to back his
story, Mr Moore”.
There was silence for a moment before Mr Moore spoke again. “Thirty-five years
I been in the Army,” he said, more to himself than to us “and now all this”.
He was in deep trouble. For years he’d done a 9-to-5 job, and on Fridays he’d
been used to locking his office at five sharp and disappearing to his little
house in the suburbs, not reappearing till nine on Monday mornings. No wonder
he didn’t know when the break-in took place.
“You’re sure these villains are on the camp at this moment, are you?” I
nodded. He now took a grip of himself. In a parade-ground voice he bellowed
“SAR’NT WILKS!”
“SIR!” just as loudly from the outer office. The young Sergeant we’d met
already marched smartly in and crashed to attention. Mr Trefusis winced at the
noise. He always winced at loud noises.
Give him his due, SSM Moore’s orders were brief and to the point. A genuine
military man immediately arose from the parody before us. Sergeant Wilks was
to fall-in everyone he could find, clerks, cooks, storekeepers, drivers, the
lot – draw automatic weapons, seal the perimeter and search the camp, section
by section. The sergeant crashed to attention again and went out. Moments
later we heard booted feet doubling up the roadway.
“And now we shall see,” said SSM Moore, and lit yet another cigarette. I
believed he hoped that nothing would happen. If so, he was disappointed. There
was a lot of shouting in the distance, then Sergeant Wilks’ squad reappeared,
in twos and threes. With them, securely held and covered by armed soldiers,
were four people.
“I better go and open up the cells!” said Mr Moore, and hurried out as fast as
his bulk would let him. He looked as if he couldn't really believe it.
Three of the detainees were youths of about seventeen. One was in Pakistani
dress, the other two in ordinary clothes apart from little Muslim caps. The
fourth, though, was a surprise. Both of us immediately recognised the massive
figure of Mr Waterbury, the senior geography master.
“Edward?” said Mr Trefusis.
“Edvard Wasserbillig” returned the other, and clicked his heels. The soldiers
took him out.
There was no more to be done at Hill Rise. Everyone was busy so we returned to
school.
En route we passed the unused side-entrance, where Merv’s Marauders had gone
further than letting down the tires of the white van. They’d taken the wheels
off also.
Back at school, the first job was to find Mr Jackson, whose lesson I’d so
rudely interrupted. Mr Trefusis said something to him, so quietly I didn’t
hear what he said, but for a long time afterwards I got funny looks from Mr
Jackson.
Well, funnier than usual.
Saturday came. Throughout morning school I was longing for the afternoon, to
be able to get away and see Melanie. I drifted off into a daydream, which was
interrupted by the Headmaster’s Secretary tapping me on the shoulder and
saying that I was to report to Dr. Holroyd – at once! Not in his study, but in
his private house.
_What could this mean,_ I wondered, as I tried to smarten myself up a bit. My
shoes needed a clean, but there wasn’t time. I hurried round the corner of the
main block: the Head’s private house was a small side-wing with its own
entrance. There were three cars outside. One was Dr. Holroyd’s silver Merc.
Then there was a black Audi A8, which I didn’t recognise, and the third car
was also a Merc, but painted khaki, and at the front and rear were two stars
on red plates, which I knew from Harry Ricketts meant a Major-General.
The Headmaster’s housekeeper showed me into the lounge. “Ah, here’s our man of
the moment!” exclaimed Dr. Holroyd. “Gentlemen, this is Simon Scott, who’s
been absenting himself from his studies, as I told you.” (That’s a good one, I
thought). “Now, Scott,” he went on. “This is General Frobisher, of Military
Intelligence”. I shook hands with the General, a thick-set, tough-looking
individual with a high colour. I said “Sir” as I’d been taught by Harry. The
General just nodded.
The Head was going to introduce the other man, but I got in first. “Hello,
Uncle Max”.
“So you know each other already?” said the Head. Surely he knew – or was he
keeping up appearances?
Yes, I knew Uncle Max alright. It was Uncle Max, above all people, who’d
roused my curiosity about sex, who’d taken my virginity (though I was to blame
for that) and who, I guessed, had really been responsible for getting me
neutered. He was looking at the other two men with an expression that seemed
to say _“This is my nephew Simon; take a good look at what two little pricks
with a hypodermic can do”._
Fortunately, he didn't make a show.
“Well, now that’s over” said the Head “I know that the General has something
to tell us”.
“I expect you want to know,” began the General “what’s been going on, and who
are these people, who are now safely locked away. Firstly, our Middle Eastern
friends. Well, there doesn’t seem to me a real Al Qa’ida connection at all.
They are just a bunch of young idiots with silly ideas about saving the Muslim
world. But they committed a serious crime all the same. The stuff they took –
we recovered all of it by the way – was obsolete but could have made a nasty
bang all the same.”
Uncle Max chipped in. “The Americans wanted us to send them to Guantanamo Bay
but we weren’t having any. It’s a purely civil matter. No need for an
international bru-ha-ha, is there?"
“Thank you, Major Riche,” said the General, who went on. “Now Wasserbillig, or
Waterbury as he used to be known, is a different proposition. He is, or rather
was, because there’s no such place now – an East German from the DDR. He used
to be a Stasi officer, with a deep-seated hatred of the West, which survived
the Berlin Wall coming down.”
“We got him on the recommendation of an agency,” said the Head weakly.
Of course, I thought, they got Dr. Jolly (Joli) from there as well, and look
at what HE'D done! I was beginning to question what little faith I had in the
rest of the faculty at that point.
“Then they ought to be shot!” returned the General. “Anyway, to go on. For a
long time, Wasserbillig has been trying to infiltrate extremist groups,
Islamic militants – all that sort of thing – and then he met this little lot.
They undertook all the rough stuff, the breaking and entering and carrying-
away. What Wasserbillig did, was to photograph what was in the huts with a
telescopic lens, so the thieves could quickly identify what they wanted and
not burden themselves with parachute flares and stuff like that.
“What made things a lot easier was that the road from the side gate went
directly to the top of the camp and was out of sight of the main gate and the
guard room. No one patrols the whole camp any more. It was a sheer fluke that
the break-in was discovered on Monday”.
Uncle Max broke in again. “General, all of this is restricted information at a
high level. Before you say another word, young Scott needs to take the oath
under the Official Secrets Act, and so does Dr. Holroyd unless he’s taken it
before?
He hadn’t. Uncle Max produced a booklet with some wording in it, which I had
to read back to him. Dr. Holroyd did the same. “Now,” said Uncle Max “if you
breathe a word to anyone, you’ll end up in the Tower of London”.
I shot him a quick look that said _'You wouldn't?'_ and he fired one back that
more than said that he would.
“Feeding the ravens,” added the General. “Shall we go on? I’ve prepared this
press release”. He produced a sheet of MoD paper. It outlined, rather than
described, the incident at Hill Rise Camp and ended in, “Resulting from the
vigorous and spirited action of RSM Moore and his men, the miscreants were
speedily rounded up. RSM Moore has been decorated in recognition of his part
in this”. I looked at this and gaped.
“Yes, I know it does you no justice at all,” said the General. “But we just
can’t put you in the paper. Don’t worry. The real version – with you centre-
stage – will go on MoD files. And in fifty years’ time the public can read all
about it. Likewise, we might have court-martialled old Moore, but since we all
know he’s useless, giving him a severe reprimand – which is all he’d have got
– wouldn’t have added anything. So we’ve given him the Meritorious Service
Medal, which he should have got years ago only he was too lazy to apply- and
we’re retiring him on full pension as Regimental Sergeant-Major. Sounds better
and costs us nothing.
“And that brings us, doesn’t it, Major Riche, to the vexed question of what to
do about recognising your nephew, young Scott”.
I was to get some sort of award! I listened, while Uncle Max explained. “All
of this happened on MoD land and involves Government property, and without
doubt you were exposed to considerable danger. But you’re not a soldier, so
that rules out any kind of military award. I thought of the Queen’s Police
Medal, but the Home Office quickly pointed out you were not a policeman. So,
even though it lumps you together with Bus-Driver Of The Year and all that
sort of thing, I’m afraid it’s got to be the OBE”.
This was awful. “Simon Scott OBE”. I’d never live it down. I thought very
quickly and remembered something. “Sir,” I said to Dr. Holroyd “can I suggest
something?” Dr. Holroyd nodded.
“Sir, it’s unfair just giving the award to me. To start with, four other boys
came with me and it was one of those who pointed out the tracks were made by
foreign shoes”.
“I’d been wondering about that,” muttered the General.
“Then Mr Trefusis – I don’t suppose anyone else would have listened to me if
Mr Trefusis hadn’t. And then there were some local children, who immobilised
the thieves’ van”.
“They can’t ALL have the OBE,” said Uncle Max.
“I’m not suggesting that, sir,” I said. “But in World War II, the George Cross
was awarded to the island of Malta, as a whole. Couldn’t the OBE be awarded to
the Lower School as a whole, to recognise everybody who was involved?”
For a moment no one spoke. Dr Holroyd was no doubt picturing his noticeboards
and letter-headings “Southdown Hall Lower School OBE”. Then the General gave
an approving grunt. “Jolly good idea. Unselfish. Just the right spirit!”
“Sounds OK to me too,” said Uncle Max. “I’ll have a think about the citation,
something general. And by the way I’ll need the names of your comrades-in-
arms, for the files. And didn’t you mention some children in the town?”.
“Yes, but I’ve no idea of their names, or where they live,” I said. Uncle Max
looked quite vexed. I gave him Jack Elliott’s name, and Manchit’s, and the
Roebucks’.
“Have we finished with Scott then, gentlemen?” asked the Head. “I’m sure he
wants to get away for his weekend”.
The General hadn’t. “Ever thought about a commission in the Army, young
Scott?” he asked. This was even worse than the OBE! Fortunately – or
unfortunately – Uncle Max saved me having to reply. He whispered something to
the General.
“Good God!” said the General. “I didn’t know there were any!" (I had caught
the word “eunuch” in Uncle Max’s whispered “aside”.) The General turned redder
than ever and under cover of his embarrassment I slipped out and away.
(A few weeks after this, a new glass-fronted case appeared in the School Hall.
Below the enamelled gilt cross of the OBE on its pink-and-white ribbon was the
citation, on vellum with the Royal Arms above it, “For work of national
importance”.)
I went down to the bus terminus only to find I’d missed the only service of
the day that would take me to Melanie’s. For the time being I retreated to
“The Lemon Tree”. Over a Coke and sandwich I decided what to do next. The fact
is I didn’t want to run into Uncle Max just then. Given the opportunity, he
might have asked me to go with him for the weekend – and I’d have ended up, as
in the past, with his penis up my bum. And I’d had enough of that for all
time.
Or he might, somehow, have got me to talk about Merv’s Marauders and how to
find them; I’d seen the gleam in his eye when I mentioned “local children”.
Kids did disappear off the street, without trace, and the sinister men who
worked for Uncle Max in the “Sugar Plum” operation were on a constant lookout
for easy targets.
Yes, I knew about it - or rather a bit about it. Uncle Max might have been a
smooth operator, but he did tend to slip now and then when computers were
involved. Thank Uncle Carl for inspiring me to become a computer whiz.
I pondered it over another Coke. Those two grubby little girls, experts in
cock-sucking – they were not so young that they could not be trained for some
oil-sheikh’s harem. And as for the boys! Who knew better than I did, that when
a boy was said to be “just the right age” for neutering, it was altogether the
cruellest age for the boy. At that age he knew all the fascination of sexual
awakening. The joys of feeling at his penis, making it go stiff. The thrill of
feeling up a girl’s skirt, talking her into pulling her knickers down.
And then off to the neutering clinic, and after two pricks of a needle, it was
all gone. All but the desires, and the longings. Merv and his friends would
have ended up as placid, “safe” servants in the household of some upper-class
citizen, somewhere in the world. Harem eunuchs perhaps, or sex slaves to some
rich Middle Eastern pervert. I wanted nothing to do with it. I would not
betray Merv and his friends, or deny them their future manhood.
In the end I caught the “Hospital” bus and went to visit Mark, who was now out
of intensive care. They had put him by himself in a little side ward. I could
only have a few minutes with him, they said.
Mark looked very weak and pale, but was over the worst, and there were no
visible side effects. I told him about the past week. “Sounds as if I missed
all the fun,” he said, regretfully. Then he asked about Roddy.
“That’s all blown over,” I said. “There’s been a lot of shuffling-round of
dorms. Boys like us all together, as it should have been in the first place.
Amazing how many of 'us' there are, you know. No problem in numbers there,
'us' vs. them. MacVittie is staying on, but as a day-boy; his home is only
about twelve miles away”.
Mark was silent for a time, then said “I’ve got some news for you. Dr. Holroyd
was here last evening.”
“Here? Why?”
“Because they keep a small lab for him here. You know, he’s not a PhD like
most Doctors – he’s a full-fledged Doctor of Medicine – a proper scientist!
And he’s published a lot of books. And what do you think he specialises in?”
“I can’t think. Tell me”.
“Stem-cell culture!”
“So I told him about me and – you know. When I told him about Professor
Zuniger he got very excited. He said that Zuniger was the best in the world.
Only I wasn’t to expect a “quick fix”. Treatment could take two years, perhaps
three. But new possibilities were opening up all the time”.
“Why, Mark, that’s wonderful!” I said. “And meantime, there’s your singing”.
Mark gave a wry smile. “That seems like the only casualty. I might have lost
fingers or toes, from this. Instead, I can’t croak a note. And now, Simon, I
think I’d like to go to sleep again.”
My stomach seemed to lose its hold and fall down to somewhere near my shoes.
_I can't croak a note,_ Mark had said, in a voice that sounded like the last
statement of a condemned man on his way to the gallows.
Mark couldn't lose his voice. He just couldn't!
It was all he had now!
That, and a new dream that I couldn't bring myself to share in.
I took Mark’s hand and squeezed it gently, holding it until he fell asleep.
_Don't leave me, Simon,_ he'd said, before he'd fallen ill.
Confused, I then let myself out, away and down the wide stairs. There was an
odd pricking sensation behind my eyes.
Why now, at this time, should I feel like crying?
THE END
* * * |
Lucifer's Disciples 6-9 | GAY, WARNING, NULLIFICATION, MINOR | These are the sixth, seventh, eighth and ninth parts of a story about a boy who becomes entrapped in the evil rituals of a wicked satanic cult. | **_
LUCIFER’S DISCIPLES
_
By Pueros
__**
**__
Part 6 – Sodomite
**_
‘But see the virgin blest….’
\- Milton (‘On the Morning of Christ’s Nativity’, 1.237)
_ ** __
**
(Barn of a remote farm, Midwestern USA, 1 year ago)
** __
**
The eager Grand Master, of course, needed no loud entreaties to comply with
the shouted requests of the many equally keen spectators. Nor did he require
an invitation from Stephen, who appreciated from his training that he was
about to lose his anal virginity publicly under the shadow of the sinister
inverted real crucifix above. The boy was happy to do so, despite the debasing
circumstances and knowing that the degrading process would hurt, especially in
the cruel manner that the act would quite deliberately be sadistically
performed, namely without lubricant.
After all, being sodomised for the first time by the Grand Master was the act
of consummation that indicated the commencement of his formal service as the
man’s special young slaveboy for the year, which was a post that he had for a
long period been very impatient to begin. Losing his anal virginity in such a
demeaning painful and public manner also enabled him again to delight and
honour the lord of hell, the prince of darkness, the great Lucifer, and his
earthly acolytes.
The inevitable clear symptoms of distress that Stephen would display because
of the undoubted hurt that he would experience whilst being deflowered were
also acceptable to the boy. After all, his suffering and the certain resultant
tears pouring from his sensuous blue eyes and screams emanating from his sweet
rosy lips would additionally delight and honour the lord of hell, the prince
of darkness, the great Lucifer, and his earthly acolytes.
Stephen, experiencing a strange emotional mix of excitement and fear, now felt
the Grand Master’s fingers running across the lustrous curves of his virginal
bottom to the continued rhythms of Beethoven’s ‘Emperor Concerto’ and the
cacophony of shouts to "Fuck him!" Above this din, the boy, immovably
degradingly chained in a bent-over posture to the cool black stone altar, next
heard the cult leader recite his lord’s prayer, the surface calmness of which
belied the man’s own intense thrill at what he was about to perpetrate.
"Our father," the Grand Master prayed, as he continued to fondle Stephen’s
delectable virgin bottom, "who was in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy
kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in hell. Give us this day
our daily bread and don’t forgive us our trespasses, as we don’t forgive those
who trespass against us, and lead us into temptation and deliver us to evil.
For thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory for ever and ever. Amen!"
Stephen subsequently experienced the Grand Master’s fingers withdraw from his
bottom, which was then brushed by the hem of the man’s purple robe, as this
part of the attire was uplifted. The boy next felt the cult leader rest this
raised lowest front edge of the garment on the nearest part of the child’s
bent back before repositioning his grip firmly on the 13 year-old’s thighs for
leverage to assist what he imminently intended to do.
The Grand Master’s robe effectively curtained the scene of Stephen’s imminent
deflowering. Neither the boy’s lustrously curvaceous bare bottom nor the
substantial manly erection that would soon destroy his anal virginity were now
visible to the many spectators. The watchers would instead have to judge the
progress of events by the adult’s movements and the resultant reactions of the
two participants.
An eager broad cockhead soon began to touch Stephen’s pink virginal sphincter
accurately but at first gently. "Fuck him!" continued to resound vociferously
around the satanic arena, as the Grand Master next started to press the tip of
his fulsome erection harder and harder against the boy’s initially strongly
resistant anal muscle and whilst the man again recounted his lord’s prayer.
However, on this occasion, his recitation stuttered, as he could no longer
disguise his own acute excitement.
"Our….father," the Grand Master prayed, as he continued to press his cockhead
against Stephen’s sphincter, "who….was….in heaven…..hallowed….b….b….be
thy….n….n….name." "Thy….k….k….kingdom….c….c….come…." he subsequently managed
to add before the defences of the boy’s anal muscle finally gave way and his
broad and long manly penis gained entry into the dark realm where it wanted to
cum.
The beginning of the ruination of Stephen’s anal virginity and evidence that
their Grand Master had at last complied with their encouragement to "Fuck
him!" was then presented to the enthusiastic spectators when their repetitive
loud shouting was suddenly overwhelmed by an even more vociferous agonised
scream. The pained shriek had emanated from the boy’s rosy lips, as utter
excruciation, originating within his bottom but quickly searing through the
whole of his form, overtook him whilst a man’s substantial unlubricated
erection vigorously penetrated harshly deep into his insides.
Stephen’s vociferous screaming later continued unabated for a while, whilst
the Grand Master proceeded to obey the maintained chants of "Fuck him!" Having
initially advanced his erection as far as he could inside the boy, the man
withdrew his cock rapidly, only to ram the eager broad and long shaft fully
back into his young victim before repetitively repeating the cycle.
The Grand Master eventually achieved a constant swift rhythm of thrust and
withdrawal, which was increasingly pleasurable to him but constantly agonising
for Stephen, who nevertheless managed to feel a strange tingling affect his
own groin. However, the boy could not currently see this intimate part of his
anatomy.
Stephen’s groin was pressed against a vertical edge of the altar, whilst his
tearstained face rested against the silvery image of Baphomet at the centre of
the pentagram on the upper surface of the black stone block. The boy was
therefore unable to ascertain the cause of the tingling sensation.
"Fuck him!" resounded around the satanic arena for the umpteenth time, in
tandem with another harsh thrust forward by the Grand Master and a further
agonised yelp from the sobbing Stephen when the demands of the spectators and
the desires of the cult leader were finally fully satisfied. The main initial
indication that the usual finale had been successfully achieved came from the
fact that the man did not now withdraw his erection from well within the boy’s
insides. The second signal was a loud contented grunt from the adult, matched
by a very happy expression on his face, as the cock with which he had deeply
penetrated the child began to impregnate the 13 year-old with copious semen.
The spectators changed their chanting to cheering on perceiving that their
Grand Master had finally completed their demands to "Fuck him!" Meanwhile,
despite his anal agony, Stephen could feel the strong stream of satanic sperm
flowing deep into his insides.
The Grand Master subsequently withdrew his sated softening cock from Stephen
and lowered the hem of his purple robe. Because of the cover provided by this
garment, neither he nor anyone else could see the blood and residual semen on
his penis. However, similar detritus was currently running down the boy’s
bumcrack to besmirch his inner legs and provide alternative clear evidence of
his recent agonising and debasing deflowering.
Meanwhile, Stephen and everyone else present appreciated that the boy’s
suffering during his initiation ceremony had not yet finished. In fact, his
torment had hardly begun.
This situation was apparent from the fact that the Major Domo now handed to
the Grand Master a short but multi-stranded leather whip, which for the
occasion had temporarily replaced the crop that usually dangled from his
trouser belt, apart from when being used to chastise the demonic cult’s
slaves. Fresh enthusiastic loud chanting from the spectators simultaneously
resounded around the satanic arena, this time demanding "Beat him!"
Stephen appreciated from his training that he was to be imminently flogged
with the cruel whip. However, the boy was again happy to suffer.
Being beaten now for the first time by the Grand Master was another ceremonial
ritual indicating the commencement of his formal service as the man’s special
young slaveboy for the year. His further suffering through the whip also
enabled him once more to delight and honour the lord of hell, the prince of
darkness, the great Lucifer, and his earthly acolytes.
** __
Part 7 – Flagellant
**_
‘A child is afraid of being whipped….’
\- Samuel Johnson (according to Boswell in his ‘Life of Johnson’, i.46)
_ ** __
**
(Barn of a remote farm, Midwestern USA, 1 year ago)
Stephen again experienced a strange mix of emotions when to vociferous
repetitive chanting from around now of "Beat him!" the cruel multi-stranded
whip accurately and powerfully struck his buttocks for the first time,
simultaneously creating several vivid scarlet stripes. The pain endured by the
boy’s defenceless bare bottom was, of course, once more acute and caused him
to repeat his earlier shrieking and sobbing.
Nevertheless, Stephen was also exultant that, through his suffering of
flagellation, he was again pleasing the lord of hell, the prince of darkness,
the great Lucifer, and his earthly acolytes. The boy additionally encountered
the return of the peculiar tingling sensation in his groin, this time more
strongly than ever.
The nature and source of this tingling sensation subsequently became apparent
when the next accurate and powerful blow from the multi-stranded whip struck
his bottom. Stephen’s agonised body, degradingly bent over the altar,
immediately visibly convulsed within the tight confines of his chained bondage
but not because of his excruciation, as was evident from the nature of his
simultaneous groan, which was of intense pleasure not pain. Further proof
emanated from the semen that now began to drip down the edge of the black
stone block upon which his still vertical and hard cock was resting.
The Grand Master appreciated from previous extensive experience of such
matters that, after just two blows, his whipping of Stephen had caused the boy
to orgasm. The man was pleased to note the apparent masochism inherent in a
child so young, which he would be very content to feed and nurture over the
year ahead, hopefully to the desired ultimate denouement.
The Grand Master was also happy to continue to whip Stephen after allowing the
boy’s mind to return from his sexual high, which undoubtedly momentarily
overwhelmed all other sensations, to painful reality. The sadist appreciated
that the child’s anguish resulting from his beating would now be even worse
after experiencing the brief perverse pleasure of his climax, as being flogged
further would no longer offer any masochistic delight.
The Grand Master’s belief was supported by the return of agonised as opposed
to pleasured groans emanating from Stephen’s rosy lips in reaction to each
subsequent carefully aimed harsh blow from the cruel multi-stranded whip. The
man also produced blood, as drops began to be shed at the intersection of some
of the scarlet stripes that he was creating.
The Grand Master eventually moved his aim away from Stephen’s bloodied bottom
to create similar damage on the rear of his legs before exercising his whip
downwards rather than sideways by again shifting his attention, this time
towards the boy’s horizontal back. Although the sadistic man needed no such
encouragement, he perpetrated this assault in tandem with continued
enthusiastic loud chanting from all around of "Beat him!"
By the time that this customary initiation whipping ritual had concluded, the
whole of Stephen’s rear, from his neck to his feet, was a mishmash of stripes,
many now considerably darkening in hue from the original scarlet. Blood also
ran down the sides of the boy’s back onto the upper surface of the altar,
where a little pool formed by tears was already present, adjacent to his
sobbing face. A similar sanguine flow additionally fell down his bottom and
legs, mixing with some of the Grand Master’s extraneous sperm before spilling
onto the black floor below.
Eventually satisfied with his work and knowing that he did not want to go too
far, as he did not want to cause permanent harm to Stephen, at least not yet,
the Grand Master returned the whip to the Major Domo. As he did so, his robe
was again noticeably bulging in the groin area, which was a phenomenon matched
in many similar garments around him.
The Major Domo re-fastened the now bloodied whip to his trouser belt. He
subsequently began to release Stephen from his chained bondage.
The previous chanting addressed to the Grand Master of "Beat him" then changed
to other shouts aimed at Stephen. "Suck him!" now repetitively reverberated
around the satanic arena, as the agonised boy carefully raised himself from
the altar and turned to face the cult leader, who was already beginning to
raise his robe so that the child could obey the spectators’ loud command.
**__
Part 8 – Sucker
**_
‘I have given suck….’
\- Shakespeare (Lady Macbeth in ‘Macbeth’, vii.54)
_ ** __
**
(Barn of a remote farm, Midwestern USA, 1 year ago)
Despite the anguish felt by the comprehensively whipped rear of his body,
Stephen dutifully knelt immediately before the Grand Master, simultaneous to
the cult leader revealing a large hairy re-aroused cock, dirtied with the
boy’s blood and the man’s semen from the earlier act of sodomy. However, the
adult’s robe had been raised in such a manner that only the young initiate
could see the erect penis, which was clearly now demanding oral attention.
To continued chanting of "Suck him", the kneeling obedient Stephen leant
forward to accept the Grand Master’s dirty erection into his mouth The man
then again began to recite his lord’s prayer.
As Stephen began to lick and suck the Grand Master’s erection to cleanliness
and more fulsome hardness, the man rested the front hem of his robe on top of
the boy’s golden hair so that he could use his hands instead to hold the head
now giving him pleasure. The man did so gently at first but, as he was brought
increasingly closer to climax, his grip became firmer.
Despite his earlier successful act of sodomy, the Grand Master was more than
ready to cum again in reaction to Stephen’s compliant licking and sucking,
having been considerably stimulated by whipping the naked child. Meanwhile,
despite the continued distress endured by his body as a result of his recent
beating and never previously performing the debasing act of fellatio, the boy
conducted the literally distasteful ritual competently, aided by three
factors.
First and foremost, Stephen was spurred to competence because he recognised
that he was again delighting and honouring the lord of hell, the prince of
darkness, the great Lucifer, and his earthly acolytes. Anything that enabled
the boy to demonstrate his genuine devotion to the true faith was pleasing to
him.
Second, the Grand Master was helpfully content for just the tip of his long
cock to be subjected to the majority of the pleasant oral attentions.
Consequently, Stephen encountered no breathing difficulty.
Third, although Stephen disliked performing degrading fellatio for the first
time, especially as the manly cock that he was servicing orally was rather
unpleasant, he did not find the act so repugnantly distasteful that he was
induced to stop or gag. However, the boy was astute enough to appreciate that
the situation might change once the Grand Master began to ejaculate satanic
sperm into his mouth and down his throat, which he was obliged to attempt to
swallow.
In the event, Stephen’s worries proved unfounded. The boy was able to subdue
his revulsion when he finally felt the Grand Master’s satanic sperm spurt into
his mouth, helped to do so by finding that the man’s ejaculate was not too
nasty in taste.
There was even no need for the Grand Master to hold Stephen’s head firmly in
place, as the orgasmic man did in order to ensure that boy absorbed all of his
satanic sperm. The young initiate would have been able to swallow all of the
semen despite his distaste for both the act and the substance.
Meanwhile, the intrigued spectators again detected their Grand Master’s
success in impregnating the young initiate once more, this time in the boy’s
oral orifice. Consequently, another cacophony of cheering resounded all around
the satanic arena.
Such a further successful productive orgasm had not taken very long to
achieve, which was a testament to both Stephen’s fledgling competence at
fellatio and how freshly aroused the Grand Master had become. In fact, the man
only just managed to complete his renewed stuttering of his lord’s prayer
before he ejaculated.
The Grand Master eventually withdrew his satisfied and softening cock from
Stephen’s mouth, which was now overwhelmed by the taste of satanic sperm. Not
long afterwards and despite the pain coursing through his body from his
ravaged rear, the boy found himself again kissing the image of Baphomet’s
gruesome head in the middle of the black floor of the satanic arena enclosure,
whilst facing the altar.
Meanwhile, the rather contented Grand Master, who had just deflowered
Stephen’s anal and oral orifices and had lowered his robe to cover the
implement used for the purpose, namely his now sated cock, happily returned to
his seat of honour amongst the spectators. Continued cheering for his efforts
accompanied him on his way.
** __
Part 9 – Crucifix
**_
‘Who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the
shame….’
\- Biblical Book of Hebrews (12:1)
_ ** __
**
(Barn of a remote farm, Midwestern USA, 1 year ago)
After Stephen subsequently stood up, having once more performed homage, the
Major Domo approached him with two little but strong serrated clamps in his
hands, from which dangled small but heavy silver inverted crucifixes.
Immediately on the commencement of another pop track blurting from the hidden
loud speakers, the man attached these adornments to the boy’s red nipples,
instantly inducing a pained groan from his similarly rosy lips.
Nevertheless, despite the fresh pain afflicting his nipples and adding to the
anguish felt by his flogged rear, Stephen somehow again began to dance with
competent eroticism to the energetic music, whilst the Major Domo once more
discreetly retreated away from him. The boy’s cock, which had become flaccid
after he had perversely succumbed to his own earlier orgasm under the whip,
also amazingly soon started to display renewed arousal, as the penis flopped
around in tandem with his lively movements.
By the time that the music track had finished, Stephen’s cock was again fully
erect, much to the delight of the many spectators. The boy’s amazing renewed
penile hardness was also subsequently maintained through two more dances, each
of which was followed by the act of homage.
Afterwards, the sinister real inverted crucifix was mechanically manoeuvred,
by means of the ingenious pulley system, from being suspended above the altar
to lying flat on the floor immediately in front of Stephen. The longer part of
the vertical crosspiece, which formed the lower section of the Christian type
but the upper of the satanic version, was located nearest to the boy.
Stephen could now see that the further shorter part of the vertical crosspiece
had a small slanted round hole bored into the centre of the black wooden
surface. The boy appreciated from his training what this cavity was for and so
did not need the Major Domo to demonstrate the purpose.
Nevertheless, after Stephen again paid homage, the Major Domo stepped forward
to screw into the hole a specially made shiny black wooden dildo, which was
about 30 centimetres in length and three in width and tilted towards the
centre of the crucifix at an angle of about 45°. The boy fully knew where this
implement would soon be inserted, as he subsequently compliantly advanced
towards the middle of the cross.
Stephen then carefully lay himself on the shiny black wooden surface of the
crucifix, whilst still facing the altar. The boy did so despite the fresh pain
inflicted on him when his ravaged rear pressed against the sinister black
wooden surface.
Stephen compliantly lay down, as taught, in such a manner that he could
stretch his arms over the horizontal crosspiece, whilst feeling the tip of the
dildo press menacingly against the lips of his anus. Meanwhile, his re-formed
erection now pointed towards his cute navel, whilst the Major Domo next began
to chain the boy’s wrist cuffs tautly to the bondage rings firmly embedded
into the ends of the sinister black wooden surface on which they now rested.
The Major Domo subsequently stood up and, satisfied that Stephen’s arms were
now firmly fixed horizontally in place, he signalled to the man who was
operating a console, which ran the pulley system and was located in front of
one of the benches amidst the terraced seating. The inverted crucifix then
immediately began slowly to rise vertically from the floor to accompanying
cheering from the spectators.
As Stephen was simultaneously raised head-first, he felt his body, connected
to the crucifix only by his wrists, which were chained firmly to the
respective ends of the horizontal crosspiece, slipping downwards, increasing
the pressure of the tip of the dildo on his no-longer virginal sphincter. As
the angle of ascent subsequently gradually became more acute, the boy
instinctively began desperately to struggle against both gravity and the
inevitable by attempting to raise his body in order to prevent his anus being
impaled.
Despite Stephen being young and fit, however, it was only a matter of time
before weariness overcame resolution and gravity won the battle to fill the
boy’s rectum. The inevitable was also not long in materialising.
The spectators had delighted in watching Stephen’s struggles to avoid the
dildo slipping into him. To their further enjoyment, the boy soon uttered
another loud agonised scream, as his tired body finally succumbed to gravity
and slid yet further downwards.
The pressure of Stephen’s whole weight on his wrists was now partially
relieved when some was transferred to the dildo now painfully entering him.
However, the excruciation of the impaling ensured that the slight lessening of
the strain on his outstretched arms was of little initial comfort to the boy.
By the time that the inverted crucifix was fully vertical, Stephen was finally
fully impaled on the harsh anal intruder. However, the boy’s unruly cock
proved resistant to gravity, as his penis remained defiantly rigid and
upright, pointing towards his cute navel.
The cross on which Stephen was now crucified would eventually be manoeuvred,
with the boy affixed, back to its former position, suspended above the altar.
However, before this repositioning occurred, the young initiate had more
suffering to endure. What this further distress was to be was now evident from
what the Major Domo had recently left the satanic arena to collect.
Whilst the crucified Stephen endured the agony of his fresh circumstance, as
well as that still induced by his sodomised and whipped rear, and the taste
from his recent act of fellatio continued to linger in his mouth, the Major
Domo wheeled into the satanic arena what resembled a barbecue grill. However,
instead of burgers, sausages and the like, the glowing charcoals were only
heating branding irons.
(To be continued in part 10 – ‘Altarboy’)
* * * |
A Dragon's Pride | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES, Furry | A nonsensical poem I churned out one day, about dragon testicles and the abuse thereof. Because what use is a pair of scaly nuts if you can\'t crush \'em flat? | This is a children's rhyme sung by the dragons in the northern reaches, who
live in a matriarchal society in which males are subservient to females. Both
sexes spend most of their time in the nude, and as a result sexuality is in no
way taboo in northern dragon culture. The male gonads, in particular, are seen
more as playthings than anything else: females are taught from a young age to
kick, punch, slap, and otherwise abuse the testicles of males for their own
amusement and pleasure.
The rhyme below is about ballbusting in general, but it's also more
specifically about mating. During the northern dragon mating ceremony, one of
the male's testicles is popped, to show his dedication to the female and to
prove that he has not been mated before (if he had, he'd only have one nut
left). This is often a long, drawn-out process, with the female abusing her
male's balls over several days until she finally takes mercy and destroys one,
consummating the mateship. If the male is ever unfaithful, the female is
entitled to crush his remaining nut as she pleases and thus leave him a
eunuch, unable to mate again.
And now, on to the craziness:
Dragon gonads, make him squeal!
Stomp 'em flat beneath your heel!
Watch him quivering in pain
As he tries so hard in vain
To save those precious dragon eggs
That hang defenseless 'tween his legs.
Crush those fragile orbs once more
and listen to his frantic roar!
His dragonhood is black and blue,
so pop a nut! He wants you to.
Squeeze those orbs between your claws,
or chew them: use those mighty jaws
and show him what those teeth are for!
Drop that dragon to the floor!
Bash his aching balls around
until he crumples to the ground,
then swat those orbs a solid smack,
or slam a kick into his sack.
Just crush those unprotected jewels
and listen how that dragon mewls.
Smash his gonads into paste!
Pop 'em both? No, that's a waste.
It's better still to leave him one,
so he'll remember all the fun
that you had bashing up his nut:
the ache deep in his scaly gut
as his ball cracked beneath your blows
and finally burst between your toes.
His gonad flattened with a 'splat':
I promise he'll remember that!
And that way he'll still have one orb:
one swollen sphere left to absorb
a female's slaps and stomps and knees,
her brutal kick and vicious squeeze.
He still can help a dragoness
relieve some of her pent-up stress
by offering his tender egg
for her to squish and make him beg.
Even with one nut, just one kick
can make the strongest dragon sick.
But if he ever goes astray
and gets horny while you're away
and blows a load on some girl's tits
he can say goodbye to his bits.
Just grab his ball and do your worst
until you feel that gonad burst!
Bite and swallow in one gulp,
or grind his nut into a pulp.
Let him know his dragonhood
has finally been destroyed for good.
Every male dragon has his junk:
those dragonmakers full of spunk
that dangle so defenselessly,
just waiting for a female's knee.
So slam your foot into his stones
and listen to his tortured moans.
A male's proper place, you see
is curled double in agony,
so watch now as that dragon falls,
your toeclaws buried in his balls.
* * * |
Wandering Wives, Chapter 3 | STRAIGHT, WARNING, PENECTOMY, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION | If a man can\'t satisfy his wife, she may have plans for him. | ` WANDERING WIVES `
Chapter 3
The next morning was a workday, but I knew there was no way I could make it
through eight hours of work after having about four hours of sleep. When the
alarm clock rang at 6:00 a.m., we both came awake. I knew by the way Sherry
looked at me, and the way I felt, that we both needed a day off. We decided to
call in sick that day, something we rarely did. We both had sick days built
up, and didn't feel the slightest bit of guilt about the little white lies
we'd tell when we called our offices later. With that decision made, I turned
off the alarm and went back to sleep.
After we had finally got the day underway, we sat at the breakfast table
drinking coffee and talking. It was obvious to both of us that there had been
a significant change in our relationship, and it was reflected in our
conversation. Instead of casually chatting about the weather, we talked about
the Wandering Wives club. Instead of mentioning some news from our respective
jobs, we talked about how important it was for a woman to be sexually
fulfilled, and to have orgasms just as often as a man. But most of all we
talked about the next meeting of the club.
Sherry began that particular discussion by saying, "The next meeting will be a
week from next Wednesday, as you know. Do you want me to take you with me?" As
in our other conversations during the past few hours, there was no need for
either of us to pretend we didn't know what the other was talking about, which
is pretty typical of most married couples, and would have been typical of us
less than 24 hours ago. I answered simply, "Yes. I'd like that very much."
She paused for a few seconds, as if trying to collect her thoughts, before
continuing. "I know you've had fantasies about watching me being fucked by
other men, but I hope you realize the reality will be entirely different. It's
one thing to lie in bed with me and think of something like that, but to
actually see it being done is another. Are you sure you can handle it?"
I didn't need any time to consider my answer, and quickly replied, "Yes. I'm
sure I can. I know what you mean by the difference between fantasy and
reality, and I still think it's what I want. I've seen the photos and the
video of other men making love to you, and that made it pretty real for me. I
definitely want to go with you, and watch the real thing."
She said, "We don't call it 'making love' in the club. It's nothing but
fucking, pure and simple. That's like confusing scratching an itch with
caressing a lover. They're entirely different. I love you, and always will.
It's just that I have an itch that you can't scratch, because of the dirty
trick Mother Nature played on you. You can't help the fact your penis is too
small to satisfy me, and I can't help the fact I need big cocks. It's just the
way it is."
I nodded my head in agreement, and she continued, "I just want to make sure
you won't embarrass me in front of my friends. Not too long ago, another woman
brought her husband to watch her being fucked. He was just like you, and had
said he definitely wanted to see it. However, as soon as the first man
started, her husband began crying and whining for her to stop. He had confused
fantasy and reality, and as a result had shamed her. I just want to be sure
the same thing won't happen with you."
I thought for a short time about what she'd said, finally saying in reply,
"I'd never do such a thing to you. I can imagine how ashamed she was." After
another pause, I continued, "What happened then?"
Sherry had a very serious expression on her face as she answered my question.
"Well, first off she had some of the men carry her husband to another room and
tie him to a chair. He was left there until she had finished fucking as much
as she wanted, and then she took him home. On the next meeting night, she and
Joan took him to the back room, and they took care of the problem."
Her casual mention of the "back room" at the club immediately recalled to mind
the last thing she's said as I fell asleep. As she'd known would happen, my
curiosity was very much aroused, and I asked, "What do you mean? How did they
solve the problem?"
She smiled, almost as if to herself, before answering, "Maybe I should have
said that Joan 'fixed' the problem. I suppose that would be a more accurate
description."
When she didn't say anything else in explanation, I asked again, "What do you
mean? How was the problem fixed?"
Again she smiled, but more broadly this time. "I mean 'fixed', as in cats,
dogs, and veterinarians. Now do you understand?"
To say I was shocked would have been putting it mildly. I was sure that I did
indeed understand, but had to know for sure. I stammered, "You mean they. . .
they. . . his. . .?" She broke in then, and laughingly said, "Yes, lover. I
mean they castrated him. As in cut off his balls. Is that clear enough?" She
then began to laugh openly at my confusion.
I'm sure my expression was amusing, but I certainly wasn't feeling very
humorous right then. Rather, I was intensely curious, especially knowing that
she seemed to think I was ready for a similar visit. I tried to satisfy my
curiosity by asking, "How did they do it? Did he just let them do it to him?"
Sherry became serious then, and replied, "They did it the old fashioned way:
with a knife. As for him letting them do it, well I guess that would be the
most accurate way to state it. My friend had told him that she simply couldn't
live without fucking other men, and if he couldn't accept it, then she'd get a
divorce. When he broke down crying, and said he couldn't live without her, she
offered him another choice. Either he could lose her, or he could lose his
balls. She gave him 24 hours to make his decision, and when he had, arranged
for Joan to be there on the next visit. End of story."
It certainly wasn't the end of the story for me, and I said, "I suppose that
lots of men would make that same decision, if given only those two choices. I
know I would." At that she smiled and nodded, and I continued, "But wouldn't
doing that to a man require a doctor, and maybe even a stay in a hospital?"
She replied, in a somewhat exasperated tone, "You men! Your whole world
revolves around your crotch, doesn't it? Most men seem to think it'd be a
major operation for them to be castrated. In truth, it's a very simple thing.
One slice and two snips and the job is done. Stallions, bulls, rams, dogs,
cats, etc., etc. are castrated every day, and I can assure you no doctor is
required. It's exactly the same for a man. You're nothing special, you know.
Balls are balls. Joan says it's a very quick and simple thing to cut off a
man's nuts. It's the other thing that takes special care to remove."
This was getting more and more confusing, as well as arousing, to me as it
went along. After thinking over what she'd said, I asked, "When you say 'the
other thing', do you mean my penis? Joan said it'll be more difficult to cut
off my penis? Is that what you meant?" Even as I asked those questions, I
could feel my confusion being replaced with excitement. This conversation was
getting very close to my favorite fantasy, and the fact that we were sitting
here at the kitchen table and talking about it in such a straightforward
manner, in broad daylight, was somehow even more arousing.
She smiled broadly then, with an intense look of satisfaction on her face, and
I realized she was glad that I'd said "my penis", and not "a penis". Finally
she continued, saying, "Yes. That's exactly what I mean. Does it shock you to
know that women do such things to men? Or is it making your little dickie all
hard because it's so close to your fantasy?" When I didn't say anything, she
went on. "Women have been castrating men, and cutting off their cocks, for as
long as there have been women and men. It's just such an easy way to control
them, and it works so well, that we've continued to do it."
"When it comes to making a man more docile and accepting of his wife's
lifestyle, then a good old-fashioned nutting can't be beat. If she wants to
keep him excited all the time, and eager to serve her, then cutting off his
little pecker is just the ticket. In the case of my friend, she said that
about a month after he'd been castrated, her husband became very accepting of
her lifestyle, and didn't ever try to interfere. If it'd been a case of
wanting to make him more anxious to serve as her cum slave, and to be more of
a slave to her in general, then Joan would have removed his penis, but left
his balls."
When I said nothing, but just sat there with a stunned expression on my face,
Sherry asked, "Does it turn you on to think of that being done to you?" I
couldn't stop myself from nodding my answer, because in truth it did indeed
turn me on very much. She then continued, "If you think it'd be fun to have
your balls cut off, just throw a fit at the club. I'll have you in the back
room so fast you'll barely have time to spread your legs for Joan. On the
other hand, if you want your little wee-wee cut off, then just be less than
enthusiastic when I'm feeding you my tenth load. About a month with your balls
pumping out sex hormones, but no cock to use to jack off, should make you lots
more willing to act like a proper cum slave. Don't you agree?"
It took awhile, and several throat clearings for me to finally reply, "Yes.
I'm sure what you say is true. It's just that I never thought something like
that could actually happen." I paused then, to give myself time for thought,
before continuing. "Have any of your friends had to do that to their husband?
You know, the thing about removing his penis?"
She responded in a serious tone, "Actually, very few of the women I know in
the club have used that method to control their husbands, and make them better
cum slaves. I have to admit that most of them have never told their husbands
about their Wednesday night meetings, so of course the need for a penectomy
never came up, to coin a phrase." At that point we both broke into laughter at
what she'd said, and then she went on. "Joan has been a member for several
years, and she told me that she assisted during a penectomy about a year after
she joined. It was performed by another member who was a surgical nurse, and
Joan said that's where she learned the technique. She cut off a penis all by
herself about five years ago, just because she couldn't stand the frustration
she was feeling from not doing another one."
"She told me the excitement she felt that first time was almost overwhelming,
and it's all she thought about when some man was fucking her. After a few
years of fantasizing about doing another man, she couldn't stand it any
longer, and so she took her husband to the back room one night and cut off his
cock. She said it was even more exciting than when she'd helped do it to a
stranger, and I suppose that's understandable. I'm sure it'll be lots better
for me to cut off yours than some other man's, don't you?"
To say I was flustered then would be an understatement. So much of my fantasy
had come true in the past few hours that I was almost in ecstasy when I
thought about it. Now here was my very own wife telling me that she wouldn't
hesitate to castrate me if I didn't behave while other men were fucking her.
In addition, she seemed to be saying that she found it arousing to think about
cutting off my penis, and wouldn't have any qualms about doing it whenever she
wanted. It was almost too much for my mind to comprehend.
After a very long pause, I finally replied, "Yes. I'm sure it'd be more
exciting for you to see mine being cut off. It's so close to my fantasy that I
can't even think straight. Does that mean you've been thinking about doing
that to me? Have you had that kind of fantasy too? You know, about cutting it
off me? Last night you said something about me being ready for the back room.
Does that mean you're going to take me down there and do that to me?"
She smiled lazily before replying, "To answer your first question: Yes, I've
had fantasies like that for a long time. It's almost as if there is some sort
of ESP going on between us, because the fantasy you told me about is pretty
close to mine. As for me taking you to the back room and cutting off your
little dickie, all I can say is that we'll just have to wait and see. It
depends on how well you do at the next meeting. Maybe I'll just have you
castrated instead." She smiled broadly then, seemingly amused to think of me
whining for her to stop fucking another man. It wasn't amusing to me, because
I knew with all my heart that I sincerely wanted to watch that, and would
never do anything to stop it.
After a short pause, she said in a reflective tone of voice, "I can't believe
I waited so long to finally get you to eat a fresh load out of me. You've been
getting a little taste of other men's cum for a couple of years now, I
suppose. But always before, by the time you had your tongue in me, it would
have been a few days since I'd been fucked. Maybe it was that hint of strange
semen that caused you to have your fantasies. Anyway, it's almost sad to think
of all that time wasted. If I'd started you doing that right from the first,
you would have long since been a real cum slave."
"You'll never know how many times I talked to the other women at the club,
asking what I could do to get us at least talking about it, if not actually
having your head between my legs licking up your snack. It was Joan who came
up with the idea of adding my photos and video to the Website, and then trying
to get you to look at them on your computer. I remember telling the
photographer to be especially careful to focus in on my kitten when he showed
my pussy leaking cum. I wanted to erase every last doubt in your mind that it
really was your very own wife lying there. Guess it worked, huh?"
She gave me the most endearing smile I'd ever seen, and my heart melted as my
love for her almost overwhelmed me. I realized then all the trouble I'd caused
her by not being more forthright about my fantasies, and I too regretted all
the lost time. I said, "I'm sorry you had to do so much to make me act like a
husband should. I should have been man enough to tell you years ago that I
wanted to see other men fucking you, and then clean up after them. There's no
excuse for me not doing so. I'm sorry."
She placed her hand on mine then, and squeezed it tightly. I could see a faint
misting of tears in her eyes as she said softly, "You're the sweetest husband
that ever could be. I'm sorry too that we didn't start doing this many years
ago. When I think of all the big cocks I could have had, and all the cum you
could have eaten, it just boggles my mind. But, that's water over the dam,
isn't it? We're on the right road now, and let's move down it just as fast as
possible, to make up for lost time. There are so many, many things I've wanted
to do to you, and for you to do for me, and now it looks like they'll soon be
happening."
I was finally able to swallow the lump in my throat, and said sincerely, "I'll
do anything in this world for you. I'm sure you know that. It doesn't matter
what it is. All you'll have to do is tell me what you want, and I'll do it. I
promise." Again her eyes misted, and then we both sat in silence for a long
time, sipping our coffee.
She then seemed to come out of her reverie, and looked directly at me, saying,
"Now that we've finally discovered just how close our interests are, we can
move much faster. I just know that you'll do everything I expect of you at the
club in a couple of weeks, and we won't have to castrate you. After a few more
sessions, I think you'll be ready for the next step."
I nodded my head in agreement, and again assured her that I'd make her proud
of me. I said I'd even beg the men to service her, and then beg her to allow
me to do my duty, if that's what she wanted. I remember wishing then that we
could go to the club right at that moment, because I wanted nothing more than
to once again taste the wonderful juices she gave me, and to feel their
incredible texture on my tongue.
We sat quietly sipping our coffee then, each lost in our own thoughts. After
several minutes of pleasant silence, she said, "I was thinking just now of my
fantasy that's so close to yours. Would you like to hear it?"
I very much wanted to hear it, and told her so. She made as if to begin, then
hesitated. She said, "I think it'd be better to wait and tell it to you this
weekend. One of the principles of training males is to use their sexual
excitement as a control. You'll probably be lots more horny in three days,
especially if you don't play with your little thingie in the meantime." She
smiled at that, then continued, "That makes me think of another thing that
needs to change around here. I want you to stop jacking off, unless I tell you
to do so. There's no reason in the world for you to be constantly pumping away
on your little toy, so I want it to stop. Can you do that?"
By that time in our relationship I was very much in thrall to her, and quickly
agreed. I was secretly hoping that our new understanding would mean that I'd
be allowed to serve her sexually much more often than in the past, and my
orgasms would be just as many as before. At least, that was my hope.
She finished her coffee then and stood, saying, "Now, we both have other
things to do. I'm going to fix something for our lunch, and while I'm doing
that, I want you to clean the bathroom. It's about time you started doing some
of the housework around here, don't you think? If I really do take you to the
back room, then you'll come out of there as my true slave, and I'll want you
to do all the housework. It'll be good practice for you to start some of your
new duties right now, don't you think?" I wasn't all that excited about being
assigned housework duties, but my cock was in charge right then, and it was
excited by the tone of command in her voice, which maybe promised that the
next command would allow it to do something more sexual in nature. I left for
the bathroom and started working.
* * * |
Done by Dogs | STRAIGHT, PENECTOMY, TESTICLES, Bestiality | John's life is changed forever by a chance encounter with a beautiful woman in a bar. | There was a nasty taste in my mouth when I woke up. My head felt kind of funny
too. What vile concoction had I been drinking last night? While mulling over
this question I noticed a few other things that didn't seem right. For a
start, where the heck was I? I certainly wasn't in my bed, or even in my
bedroom. I seemed to be in what looked like someone's basement, and was laying
on my back in a head down position. I started to get up and immediately
discovered that I couldn't move!
I closed my eyes and started thinking. This can't be real; I must be still
asleep and having a nightmare. I told myself to wake up, and opened my eyes
again. No good; nothing had changed. I needed to figure out what as preventing
me from moving. Looking around, I found that I was on a narrow tilted board
with my head about 18 inches from the floor. The bad taste in my mouth was
caused by a short metal tube about an inch in diameter. This tube had a flange
on the end which was pressed against my lips. It projected into my mouth just
past my teeth and was held in place by a strap which went round the back of my
head. There was a wide strap across my chest attached to each side of the
padded board. A mirror on the ceiling of the room enabled me to see myself,
and the first thing I noticed was that I was stark naked! My arms were by my
side and held in position by another wide strap across my hips. My legs were
pointed straight up and pulled out to the side by straps around my ankles
attached to hooks in the ceiling. The board ended at my buttocks and was about
3 feet off the ground at that end. The board itself was mounted on some kind
of framework. I noticed that I had a magnificent erection and then to my
horror saw that my testicles were lying on my belly, one on either side of my
cock. The cords attaching them to my body disappeared into my empty scrotum.
I was still in a state of shock at this discovery when a door opened and in
walked a beautiful woman, accompanied by 3 large dogs. Immediately, the events
of the previous evening came back to me. Working late, stopping at a bar on
the way home, seeing this gorgeous creature sitting alone at the bar, striking
up a conversation, having a bit too much to drink, and ending up going home
with her. The last thing I remembered after getting to her place was her
offering me a drink.
Now she looked like a surgeon, wearing a white gown with her long blond hair
hidden under a tight fitting cap. 'Good morning John," she said with a smile.
"I'm Kate, in case you don't remember, and you're probably wondering why I
brought you here."
Considering the situation I found myself in, I was beginning to have my
suspicions, and they were extremely frightening. "I have a bad feeling about
this," I replied somewhat unintelligibly, because of the tube in my mouth.
"Enlighten me."
"It's really quite simple," she said. "I was sexually abused by my father as a
child, and those terrifying events left me with a hatred of all men. This
hatred expresses itself by my making sure that as many men as possible are
unable to do to their children what my father did to me. You are number seven
on my list."
"I don't have any children."
"Tough luck. You never will have. Now, before I get started, let me introduce
my friends. They are going to help me. The Great Dane is 'Scooby-doo'. The
Rottweiler is 'Spot', and the German Shepherd's name is 'Rover'. As you can
see, they are all intact males."
I didn't like the way they were inspecting my body. The Rottweiler was licking
my face, while the other two were positioned on either side of me sniffing at
my exposed balls.
Kate walked round to stand in front of my raised legs. "Let me explain a few
things. In case you haven't noticed, I have inserted a catheter all the way
into your penis - such a nice penis it is too. Must be about 8 inches, right."
I was in no mood for idle chit-chat. "Just get on with it."
"Right, then. This little doo-hickey attached to the base of your cock is an
invention of my own, and I'm rather proud of it."
As she said this she lifted my penis so that I could see it better. The feel
of her fingers on my swollen member sent an almost electric sensation along
its length, and it twitched involuntarily. I scowled at her but made no
comment.
"The small box has an extremely fine but strong wire coming out of it and
encircling your penis. Inside the little box is a tiny electric motor which,
when switched on will cause the wire to become white hot and will pull the
wire tighter and tighter so that it will cut through the shaft, cauterizing
the flesh as it does so, until it reaches the catheter."
Kate paused, as if expecting me to congratulate her for having invented this
ingenious device. Instead I just sighed, rolling my eyes as I do so. This
movement attracted the attention of the Rottweiler, which started to drool all
over my face.
"Finally," Kate resumed, "The cords to your testicles have been tied off in
two places so that there will be no loss of blood when they are severed. Now,
I think we're ready to begin. Who wants to start? Rover, you look like you're
ready."
Indeed he did. His red prick was pushing out of its sheath as he trotted round
to my head, giving a loud 'woof' as he nudged Spot out of the way. Now I found
out the purpose of the tube in my mouth. Rover stood behind my head, which was
tilted backwards off the end of the board, and lunged upward to grip either
side of my waist with his front paws. This action positioned his cock
perfectly and, thrusting with his back legs he pushed it into the tube.
Frantically, I stuck my tongue into the back of the tube, which had a soft
rubbery feeling inside. It did no good. Rover's fully engorged cock easily
pushed it out of the way as he started a spasmodic in and out pumping motion.
While this was happening he picked up my right testicle with his teeth and
started licking it. My balls were completely numb by now so I felt nothing. In
less than a minute he started cumming and my mouth was filled with salty slimy
ejaculate. At the same instant, his teeth came together on the cords attached
to my testicle, right between the two tied off parts, and just like that I was
half way to becoming a eunuch. Rover dismounted and took his trophy to a
corner of the room, where he lay down and started chewing on it.
I was almost choking on Rover's cum, but I found that it was impossible to
spit it out with the tube holding my mouth open. I was forced to swallow it.
Now it was Scooby-doo's turn and after Kate had made an adjustment to the
height of the board to accomodate the larger animal I was subjected to a
repeat performance. His cock was quite a bit longer than Rover's and it almost
felt as though he was going to push it down my throat. Before I had time to
say goodbye to my remaining ball it was gone, and I was now a eunuch.
Finally it was time for Spot (a ridiculous name for a Rottweiler, I thought)
to do his thing. He mounted my face and started to pump. He also started
licking my still hard cock and this had the inevitable effect. As it happened,
we both came at the same time, and Spot immediately pressed the switch on the
little box with his nose. I felt a moment of searing pain followed by a dull
ache as Spot pulled at my cock, sliding it off the still dripping catheter. He
lay down with it, and holding it with his front paws, proceeded to tear it
apart and eat it.
Kate now came over with a large syringe and proceeded to inject something into
my arm. "That's another of my inventions," she said. "A concoction of mostly
illegal substances that will put you to sleep and more importantly remove from
your mind almost everything you have learned since you were a small child. You
may remember some recent experiences but they won't mean anything to you. I'm
going to leave you at the emergency entrance to a hospital for your wounds to
be attended to." The last thing I remembered before everything faded out, was
her saying, "Have a nice life."
I awoke. A man was looking at me. He started saying things to me, but most of
the words were just noises to me. He looked at me as if he wanted me to talk
to him. At first I couldn't think of anything to say. Then something came into
my head. I smiled at the man and said, "Bad doggie ate my pee-pee."
* * * |
Pacific North Party Time 5 | GAY, STRAIGHT, WARNING, BI, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION, S/M, ball jeopardy and games of skill | The party is on. This story, so simple, the people are not. The HOT party others talk about, just beyond your hearing. But there are rumors | ` **The party is on. This story, so simple, the people are not. The HOT party
others talk about, just beyond your hearing.**`
_But there are rumors_
“Attention: tops and bottoms.” El-Lobo announces “This is the banding contest.
The rules are as follows. Time limit is 30 minutes. Longest duration wins.
Warning at 28 minutes. Beware, anyone going over 30 minutes forfeits his
balls, so think carefully. UNDERSTOOD?
Bottoms nod all around, as the bands are placed and the clock started.
Instantly a chorus, “withdraw” as sam2go, mat, cal, and erin speak
simultaneously. Less than 10 seconds have expired.
Pcock begins to laugh loudly, as he says, “The superior males.” Jim comments
as well. “We know what those boys want.”
Both comments result in a roar of laughter, bringing the contest to a
temporary halt. The clock continues, tick, tick, tick.
LTRCowboy steps forward, bander in hand, “Boys, just because they are out of
the contest doesn’t mean that we can’t have some fun” Futop, OneCutr, and
cowPOKE agree, each picking up a bander. The clock continues, tick, tick,
tick.
As cal, mat and erin squirm a bit, the access becomes wider, more inviting.
Snap the new bands fall in place.
Absolutely silent, sam2go, makes no move. Yah like he is really fooling any
one, that grin gives it all away, snap, the clock continues. Tick, tick, tick.
Christmas season is over. None the less over in the corner there arose such a
clatter. Instantly attention is riveted on the St. Andrews cross and its
unexpected occupant Seabird.
Nathan to the right of him, Victor to the left of him. George in front of him.
They speak as one, Nathan, “TOP he may be”, Victor, “cock he is not”, George,
“on display for all to see.”
And the clock ticks on.
Bottoms gather to see, round red ball sacs below the bands, just a bit of a
waddle. Some speak, commenting on the small cock. As a group they know seabird
likes the humiliation about his small cock size.
The room becomes silent, aaron walks over, gently touches seabirds’ chest.
Walking behind, jim hugs seabird, whispers in his ear. For the first time at
the party, blackspirit stands full erect, his body language shouting, NO ONE
STOP ME, as he begins to loosen seabirds bonds.
boundboi giggles at the comments, the laughter infectious. The hood is lifted
so even he can see. ‘MAN, it is so small.’ Looking up boundboi sees the face,
assured, content. The hood is replaced, but boundboi knows he has seen a real
man. ‘A top not measured by his cock.’
Over in the corner, Tom leans back, eyes closed, similes. He earned that
respect, now he believes, knows and lives it. That is respect for a man, not
what is between his legs.
And the clock, tick, tick, tick.
boundboi is helpless. ‘All part of it, tied, blind, and kept guessing.’ He
could not surrender if he still had anything. ‘So they take knowledge,
modesty, sex, fear, innocence, so I have nothing to myself. I don’t care where
I’m going, because I’m already there anyway. I submit and know I’ll be taken
where I’m going.’
Its play time. LTRCwby places boundboi on his back, leggs wide, feet hi, balls
banded. ‘This is likely to be some of my last play like this’ He thinks. ‘Make
this good’
Tick, tick, tick, the clock ticks on.
LTRCwby speaks so boundboi can hear, “you are mine” Muffled unintelligible
sound, struggling at the bonds.
LTRCwby has to admit ‘this guy is intriguing, middle aged, fairly fit, not a
fem twinks type’ Ron is ‘finding this guy a challenge. Not the outdoors,
rugged type. My best knots and still the guy has nearly gotten loose more than
once. It’s a fucking challenge, never thought a guy could turn me on that way’
The clock tick, tick, tick. boundboi struggles, the left hand nearly loose.
‘He constantly challenges my control. Makes me earn it.’ Ron places a cuff on
the left hand regaining control. Ron looks down, ‘my cock is hard. This guys a
fucking turn on.’
boundboi struggles, the right foot nearly loose.
LTRCwby tightens the rope to regain control. Places tit clamps. Ron
understands a bit about this guy. ‘He likes the bondage, the lack of control,
its not the sex he is into. Not the possibility of loosing his balls, that’s
just the measure of the challenge.’
Ron has the control, is rock hard, ready. Time for the KY, pump, pump, pump.
LRTCwby thinks, ‘is this the last time I use my package? Possible a few more,
but soon now,’
Pump, pump, pump, ‘This guy is a turn on, HOT, he struggles. I have control.’
Pump, pump, pump. ‘Up and down my shaft, I see the knife in my mind, slicing
it away.’
The clock, tick, tick tick.
Pump, pump, pump, ‘If the rest knew what will happen later as this hot cock is
separated from my body’
Pump, pump, pump…tick, tick, tick,…Pump, pump, pump.
**Chat on line before the party.**
(LTRCwby): can you cut me without anesthetics?
(SRun): I have without, but prefer to use minimal lidocane when also cutting
cocks there is a limit to how much you can use
(LTRCwby): good--is the danger of using too much anesthetic when taking off a
cock is that could put the man in a coma?
(SRun): not a coma as such, but shock or bad reaction is possible
(LTRCwby): isn't there less shock if the person is really into the experience
and wants to feel it happening
(SRun): like YOU he he he, yes less likely will be shock then
(LTRCwby): that transparent huh, this top wants his package done
(SRun): here is one problem, if the guy starts getting hard while cut you have
lots of blood.
(LTRCwby): you see...there is where I see the role of crystal it makes the
pain something that the man wants to experience
(SRun): Crystal does increase blood pressure, not a good thing.
(LTRCwby): do anesthetics cause a hard cock?
(SRun): no, the opposite, stop a hard cock. is a must when cutting the cock
(LTRCwby): OK--understand now
**The horn, BRAWHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH, “Two minute warning”**
Relaxed, boundboi is startled by the warning. He had been so caught up in the
action with LTRCwby, the pain of the banding was in the background, a natural
high. What must he do now, oh yes he can’t go over, “withdraw”.
The field is down now to jim, aaron, kutme, and Pete.
Tick, tick, tick
Pete is obviously in some distress with the pain, grits his teeth, trickles of
sweat run down his face and neck, his balls dark and cold, The ache low in his
gut is strong, still he watches jim.
Not quite relaxed, jim is also in pain, but leaning back as tho watching a
clock in his mind. Speaking quietly, “The superior male.” His balls, hard,
dark, cold.
Tick, tick, tick
Aaron is obviously enjoying the feeling, he is relaxed and going with the
flow. His balls, hard, dark, cold.
Looking to be the first to break, kutme, is in serious pain, to distract his
mind he reaches down and slowly begins to jack. His balls, hard, dark, cold.
The balls bounce, bounce, bounce.
Pete speaks, “jim admit it I am the superior male.”
“Don’t know about you,” aaron says, “I intend to go over, forfeit my balls to
Tom, he owns them any way.”
Pete, begins to panic, ‘what the fuck am I doing???’
Tick, tick, tick
Smiling, jim says nothing.
For the first time, just a touch of fear in Pete's eyes, he looks at jim, into
jim's eyes. Hypnotic those eyes. Pete relaxes again, it doesn’t matter if he
has balls.
Slowly jim raises his hand, “withdraw”, Pete, “withdraw”, kutme, “withdraw”
aaron, “withdraw”
**It’s early. Day one of the party. The phone rings, tops huddle around the
speakerphone talking.**
“Hi this is Linda, I wanted to ask you all about coming to the party.”
“Hi Linda, this is Bill, we talked on line once or twice, I am surprised you
didn’t just come on in, you came a fair distance with him.”
“I wasn’t sure I’d fit in. I wanted to talk to you all first.”
“This is LTRTop, what do you think happens at parties like this?”
“Well lots of boy sex, and”
Interrupting Nathan asks “Is that a problem for you, does it make you
jealous?”
“No it isnt a problem, he came to be castrated, it is what he wants, and I
want to share that with him. How can I be jealous, it’s a man thing, doesn’t
take anything away from me.”
Bill speaks, “If you come in it will be as a top, can you stuff a dildo up a
guys ass?”
“Yes I can, I feel I want to, I mean, I’m not sure why, it feels right to
share that, be part of that, feel it myself.”
El-Lobo asks, “why do you feel that way.”
“I really don’t know, but it is how I feel.”
”You said he wants to be castrated” seabird asks, “If you have control of his
balls. if he wins will you still be able to have him castrated,”
“Yes”
“This is Tom, the real question is will you have him castrated, and what you
expect as a result?”
“God you do get to it don’t you Tom. Well, I think I will feel closer to him
than I ever have, I will be able to share something he wants so much with him,
feel it with him, I don’t know how to say it.”
“Will you have him castrated?”
“I don’t know, it feels likely but I can’t know until its time to decide, it
just feels like I will. Sorry
“Don’t be sorry, that’s a true answer.” Tom looks around the room, some of the
gay tops are hesitant, others interested in what will happen, no one objects.
“Come on over Linda, you are welcome. And hence fourth you will be known as
LTRLdy.”
\-----
It’s time for the cock contest. First in line is sam, sam is soft, sam is sent
to the back of the line.
dave steps up, hard, and ready, Tom makes the measurement, 8.8” X 5.1” around,
total score 44.9. dave grins. Tom reaches up, grabs the balls, squeezes. The
grin grows bigger, dave looks down, “take them, I don’t need them.”
Pete is next, Pete is hard, hard as hell, Tom makes the measurement, 6.7” X
4.7” around, total score a respectable 31.5.
Next is boundboi, LTRCwby, working him hard, the bond of respect between the
two growing stronger. Tom makes the measurement, 7.4” X 4.3” around, total
score a 31.8.
Stepping up is jim, trying not to be hard. Tom looks him in the eye, “nothing
less than your best, jim.” Face red, jim understands, “Pete would you get me
up.” As he steps aside.
blackspirit is obviously embarrassed as he steps up soft. Tom does not send
him to the back of the line. Begins to work his cock, while holding behind his
balls. Slowly the cock begins to expand, not hard, enough for a measurement.
Tom makes the measurement, 4.7” X 2.6” around, total score 12.2. As he stands
Tom whispers in blackspirit's ear, “jon I have something for you later.”
Once again, jim. “That’s better jim” Tom comments as he takes the measurement.
6.9” X 4.3” for a total of 29.7
Pete grins, obviously feeling good. jim places a big wet smooch on Pete lips.
Pete reciprocates, placing both arms around jim, taking him to the corner of
the dungeon. And jim knows who is the superior male.
\-----
Linda has just finished dildo fucking boi-viper. ‘He is totally gay, no
question about that. And newly castrated. And yet. He was so gentle with me,
let me take my time, explained what feels best and why.’
‘It was like there is a bond between us,’ one Linda doesn’t yet understand.
‘He did mention jon several times….And boi-viper wants me to learn about
fisting later in the party.’
\-----
The results of the cock contest are posted.
dave total score 44.9
Pete total score 31.5.
Jim total score 29.
sam Last place, stayed soft
cal Last place, stayed soft
“Listen up” LTRTop cracks a whip to get attention. “We have the results of the
cock contest. We have a tie for last place between, cal, and sam. As the
losers in this contest the tops have traded the position of one of each of
their balls into more danger.”
“Winner is dave, what is your choice?”
Without hesitation dave responds, “sam, into danger.”
\-----
‘LTRLdy, it does fit, sounds odd but fits’ Linda looks around the room. ‘Out
in the center of the room where no one notices, Tom and boi-viper are talking
in hushed tones.’ Obviously in agreement they head off with a purpose.
Linda notices over on the sling, boundboi and LTRCwby going at it again.
‘There seems to be something going on between those two. It feels like they
like each other. I guess Jon would call it respect.’
A touch on her arm, its seabird, leading her across the dungeon. Hand lightly
at the small of her back. Jon is on his back, blindfolded, mouth wide, as boi-
viper pushes his cock deeper, deeper, the empty space below his cock allowing
unbelievably deep penetration.
Linda, the LTRLdy feels intensely curious, wondering ‘how does it feel to Jon.
He is stretched out, bare to the world for all to see, cock in his mouth he
can’t see.’ She shivers a bit, ‘I would be red if someone saw. Jon is quiet,
the cock sliding down his throat. Tingly, she feels tingly.’
Tom is at the back door, thrusting deep, Jon’s legs over his shoulders, Tom
motions her to be quite, to come over, lips in a circle, Tom points to Jon’s
breasts, makes a sucking motion.
LTRLdy bends down begins to lick and suck on those tiny breasts. One hand on
his belly she feels Jon’s body jerking, shuddering, ‘his body, it never felt
so alive. Not even when he was young and fucking me hard, never this alive.’
Her hand starts to work its way down toward Jon’s cock, but Tom stops her. The
look in Tom’s eye seems to say Jon can’t live there now, PLEASE don’t hurt
him. Her hand moves back up to his belly. ‘His body is shaking like a leaf,
she can feel him, his warm chest, his quivering belly, his body is so alive,
my god………………..’
Suddenly she finds herself siting in a chair a few feet from Jon. Recent
minutes a blur of emotion, feelings, undefined but so fucking real. One of the
gay sub/bottoms helped her to the chair, it was like he knew something about
her she didn’t know herself.
Tom and boi-viper have finished with Jon, the blindfold is removed and he can
see she has been watching. His eyes are alive again. Like when he was young
his eyes are alive. And it is then she knows. When the time comes she knows
what she will do.
\-----
seabird sits down next to Tom, ”Ive been trying to get you alone for a while
now. How the fuck did you do this?”
“Do what Keith? I see a lot of people having fun.”
Keith’s eyes narrow a bit, “Don’t be coy, you know exactly what I’m talking
about.”
“Yes I do.” Tom looks straight into Keith’s eyes, “But the thing is, you don’t
know what you are asking yet. You see that people are changing, and it’s not
just that they are getting castrated. They are changing and growing, and you
think I am making that happen.”
“Yes and I want you to tell me how you are doing it.”
“And that’s the point Keith, if I were it wouldn’t work. Let me ask this, what
happened to you on the St. Andrews cross?”
“I don’t fucking know. It was like I got hit by a bolt of lightning.”
“Yes Keith, I saw the look on your face. What happened?”
“They let me go, it felt so good, but I don’t know how you did it.”
“Ahh the lies we tell our selves, the most dangerous weapon we own. That
lightning bolt was such a lie being destroyed.” Tom sits up straight. “Now
what is the lie you are trying to tell yourself about what happened?”
“Are you asking me to believe that I made that happen? That I somehow parted
the waters like mosses parted the Red Sea.”
“Not as dramatic as that. You earned the respect, and it was that respect that
released you. Come on lets join the fun, and we have some castrations to do,
we can chat more about this later.”
**End of part 5, continued in part 6, the castrations and more.**
* * * |
Wrapped Tight | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES, Transformation - Gelded | My brother and have parted ways his fetish was my doom. | Kevin had a real fetish about his very normal male organ. He tried his very
best to make it grown, lengthen, or be anything other than what he was
endowed.
It happened that one fated Saturday when I his brother Don was home and heard
the Mailman come up the drive. It was just those few times when he drove up
the driveway one knew there was a package to be delivered. A package that
either needed to be signed for, or one too large for the mailbox.
In this case it needed Kevin to sign, and then as was normal he'd run up to
our bedromm for a look-see.
This time I made it to the bedroom first and took to looking out from inside
the closet. I knew it was just another of his penis builders and if Mom or Dad
had known he ordered it they'd been mad as heck!
Like I said before he had tried just about everything under the sun which was
legal. Now as I found out he'd purchased something very experimental and not
too all fired' legal in the ole' U.S.of A.
I watched as this time he sat on my bed reading the legal page of
instructions. At last he got up and began to strip. Once butt naked he walked
with his prize into the bathroom.
Now that's where he made his big mistake!
Kevin put the instructions down and as I peered from my hiding place he opened
the medicine cabinet. Out came a condom and in a fast few seconds he had it
out of the package. Then taking his new product he queezed out some yellow
creme and took to smearing it inside the condom. The he took out his bottle of
DHEA 50 pills and popped cap after caplet open dumping the powder into the
open condom.
Then he took the instruction sheet reading a short passage and then putting it
down. He reached into the cabinette and took out what seemed to be one of the
prescription drugs cause it was in a brown bottle with a white cap.
I counted as he poured out the pills all of 25 pills he tossed into his mouth.
A glass of water and down they went. Then as if this was not crazy enough he
took the loaded condom and worked it up and up his half erect penis.
Then he took a large bottle of what was filled with pills too, and began to
count out twenty five of those pills into his shaky hand.
Another glass of water and down they went but this time he choked and began to
cough like he was soon to puke.
I almost went to him but he seemed to come out of his ailement rather fast.
Then I watched as he packaged his new treasure away in the linen closet and
looking around he then headed out the house.
This was my chance, I went into the bathroom and opening the linen closet I
searched the towels for his treasure. As I took it out from between two towels
the cap covering the big pill bottle popped off. The damned pills went
fricking everywhere!
As fast as I could I took to picking them up and tossing them into their big
bottle.It was then as I sat on the floor my eyes looked at the printed label.
Most of it was in Spanish but some was in English. I read the words Cervine
Extraction and Male Hormone, all the rest meant nothing to me.
Once the mess was cleaned up I put the pill bottle back and was about to read
Kevin instruction sheet when Mom came upstairs.
The rest of my day was filled with troubles with people and parents so what
Kevin was doing paid me no mind.
Anyway it was Sunday morning when the real problem came. Kevin spent his
normal extended time in the bathroom while I and the parents grumped outside
the door.
Kevin seemed very much not himself through breakfast as if he had something on
his mind. I watched him as he moved slowly and not at all like himself.
In church the minister was doing the long prayer when Kevin jumped up and
bolted up the isle and out the front doors. I almost followed him but Dad held
me back.
Once we all got back home Kevin went up to our bedroom while I helped Dad set
the table of our Sunday noon dinner.
I heard a thud from upstairs which both Mom and Dad ignored. Quickly I ran
upstairs and found Kevin laid out on the floor of our bedroom. He looked to me
as I came in through the doorway as if he had a deep summer's tan. This could
have been alright but it wasn't summer and he was a fair skinned person.
Kevin moaned as if he was in some horrid pain. I knelt down by his half naked
body. He'd peeled his pants down to inspect the happenings of his new creme
when it or the sight over came him and he passed out.
Kevins balls were now the size of Kiwi fruits and covered in a shaggy light
brown hairy sac. Even more odd was his penis did not branch out from his groin
as I'd seen dozens of times befor, but now it was borrowed upder the skin to
erupt out his belly just below the navel.
This was very strange and I could see my brother was having a lot of pain from
his predicament. I reached out and touched the very fuzzy opening of what
looked like the sheath of some animal that now grew and sported Kevin male
organ.
Suddenly he jerked and out came his penis. Inch after inch it came growing
thicker, longer, and much lees the shape and contours of his circumcised penis
I'd seen before.
Now it was a deep red with viens and blood vessels poking out from base to
end. The circumsised end was now a pointed and angled shape looking like a
dog's cock but much larger.
Kevin moaned as before me I saw his groin which was covered in that three inch
long shaggy hair then begin to sprout and spread down his thighs and up his
belly to a chest which seemd narrow somehow?
It was a minute after that he began to moan and wake up. I looked at him and
he first at me and then at what he was growing. His hands searched through the
thickening light brown hairs as his rock hard penis stood almost straight up
in the air.
"Your new pills really work fine!" I chidded him.
His remark was the simple one finger California type of wave.
I helped him stand up and he as I too looked over his very different
equipment. It was Kevin who began to touch and then like as if he suddenly
went sexually mad his hand gripped the red penis and took to stroking.
Kevin seem oblivious to my telling him he should stop. it was as if his mind
was now under the control of his testicles. A checking of them noted they hand
increased in size even more and now looked as if two lemons were in that hairy
sac.
Kevin jolted himself backwards as a hot stream of white and thin yellow shot
into the air landing on his bed rather than mine.
Once his load was gone he calmed and looked rather embarressed about his
sudden fit of sexual panic.
Dinner was called downstairs and I waited for Kevin to dress and we went to
eat. They say dinner can be a warfare concealed but in this case it was more
an orgy.
I kept near my brother the rest of that Sunday but as if the passion wore off
so did his desire to be around me. Kevin took off that evening and was out way
past our Father's normal time to be in bed.
Me being a good kid went to bed as told and being a wild and woolly day I
drifted off to sleep A knock at the bedroom window had me jump awake and
looking out into the darkness saw a shadowed form waving for me to come
outside.
A quick check of Kevin's bed found the covers still up and not a sign of my
brother anywhere. I must be Kevin and he's locked out of the house, or so I
thought.
Once to the back door I was met by Lyle Benson a long time friend of Kevin.
Seeing him instead of Kevin made me realise that brother was in some sort of
trouble. Lyle told me of kevin going crazy wild and charged off into his
father's stable where he took to fucking a mare.
Then he mentioned the pills and creme as Kevin had let Lyle try them as well.
I asked Lyle of his own experience with the pills and he said they had done
nothing like what Kevin was finding as a thrill.
We ran most of the way back to Lyle's home and saw the dim light glowing
inside the stable.
Once inside we found what was my brother then laying flat out and face down
behind a large mare. We rolled him over and both gasped at the sight.
Kevin then totally naked was hairy from toes up to the base of his neck. It
was when we rolled him over that the sight became too wild for us to believe.
Kevin's thighs and broadened and deepened his groin. Legs and leg bones seemed
at odd angles now as with a pressing back of some shaggy hairs which covered
his toew Lyle discovered Kevin cloven hooves.
I looked a them too but his changed groin had my attention. His balls were
bigger yet to almost baseball size and hung lower than before. His sheath was
larger and the shaggy light brown hair darkened as it grew out shorter and
from his belly to cover his everywhere else.
Kevin moaned but his moan sounded more the groaning of an animal, maybe a
goat? Lyle had seen enough and was willing to leave Kevin lay there and be
whatever he was to become. I though had a brother and beastly of not he was
still my brother!
I checked further seeing Kevin's shoulders were more narrow and his upper arm
seemed to have merged with the muscles of his strong chest. His arm and lower
arms were covered in that darker brown hair but as very short stubble.
The mare kept looking backwards watching me and seeing her lover lay there on
the cobblestone isle.
"Look at his face!' I remember Lyle yelling as he bolted off to his house
leaving me there with Kevin and the horses.
Indeed the pills and whatever else my foolish brother had swallowed was fast
making his face pay a high price. Kevin's lips and nostrils were merging into
a muzzel. A long goaty beard was growing under his chin. it was as he shifted
himself the light shown down giving me a good view of two long pointed ears,
ears of a goat!
Groggy and almost unable to speak english or language of any human race Kevin
tried to beg me for help.
I told him he seemed doomed to become a male goat. The thought of that seemed
not to bother him but it was instead he motioned toward his sheath and what
might be there in.
Hie fingers were bent over and drips of black ooze came out from around the
blackened finger nails. I bent down to look closely at his sheath.
Suddenly his strong forearms shoved my face tight into his sheath. I struggled
as one might guess anyone one might being the situation.
Slurred and harsh Kevin bade me to suck his sheath and then his red hot cock.
No way, not me and I struggled with him but he was much stronger than I both
before then and right then too! Struggles, sex, and lusting for sex seemed to
bring on Kevin's shift of species. Even as we struggled his cock came out the
sheath and I saw his face realign becoming finally that of a goat.
As his head changed so also did his finger merge and become cloven hooves. It
was with those changes his legs took the positive shift and were hind legs of
the large almost two hundred pound male goat standing there with me in the
stable. I think right then as the final changes occured kevin knew what he was
and let out the rankest, most terrible beastial scream any animal or human
changed to animal could.
The horses all became quite nervous and the lights came on inside the Benson
house as well. It was only enough time to scoop up Kevin's clothes and put a
rope about his hairy neck . He and I ran from the stable as Lyle's father came
out of the house screaming at whoever had been messing with his animals.
A good mile from Lyle's house to ours had me winded but not so my new
brotherly friend and male goat. Kevin seemed just fine as we got into the
backyard and I closed the gate. It was then he lowered his head and took to a
mindless time of grazing about the back lawn.
Try as I might and did Kevin made not one more response to me which would let
me think he still had a human mind of the ability to think as he once did. In
fact I was saddled with a large and growing larger by the hour male goat.
Come morning I was sitting outside the house as Kevin had munched his belly
full and lay chewing a very goaty cud.
It was Monday and I was to be back at school in just three hours from then.
Kevin had graduated last year but it looked like his schooling days and
colloege fun times were over.
A quick thought of Misses Angleia Smith and the small farm she kept going down
the end of our street gave me an idea. The rope about Kevin's neck had me lead
my brother to his new home. He went without a problem and entered the gate ,
then the pasture. His running and jumping into the pasture was suddenly halted
with a horrid goatish scream.
Electric barbed wire was strung down low for the cow Misses Smith kept for
milk. It was poor Kevin who bounded his balls into the fence and with his
forward motion and the razor barbs he lost his larger than large male
delights.
"Not to tightly wrapped there brother!" I remember exclaiming as bleeding and
screaming from his loss Kevin jumped and bounded about the pasture.
Well its been several months since the parents first beleved Kevin ran away
from home. I know better as he is now a nice big pet for Misses Smiths'
enjoyment. I visit him often as without his big balls the thoughts, memories,
and desires of my brother are always on his mind.He has a fond hope that his
changes be not permanent but I know better as from his pills there be some
early changes in my balls too!
Lyle took his pills and with the wild desires and his Father's horse he found
himself living inside the stable as his Dad found him fucking a mare. He made
him take every dumb pill and all to once then tossed him into a box stall with
a Shetland pony mare in heat.
The sex and change coupled and double as Lyle became a sturdy pony stallion.
His Father being a non religious man felt little or no pain dooming his one
fool son to a life and body of such a beastly form. Lyle I have visited and
like Kevin when having his balls lost all ties to reason and humanity, he is
for all to see just a fine conformationed stallion pony.
You might ask and so what of all this story then, where does it go and why do
I tell it?
Lust, and sensual pleasures they drive a man or youth as I to want more and
more pleasures. Well I did as Kevin and contacted Sunrise Research asking for
some of their special penis builder cremes.
"Charolais Creme!' It will be my downfall but to tell the truth I love the
feel, and look forward to Misses Smith's cow!
* * * |
Registered Sex Offender Part 4: Chip's Conversion | BI | Chip finds a friend, a lover in prison. He gets a very mixed reaction from his sister when he shares the news. | Chip’s Conversion
`
It was after 7 PM by the time Ed got free from all his paperwork and got to
the Stockdale home, a rather typical four bedroom house with two relatively
new cars in the driveway, telling Ed clearly that the Stockdale family was
certainly not filthy rich, but evidently comfortable enough. He had called as
soon as Chip left his office and asked if he could see them, saying that he
wanted to talk about Chip. His request had been met by a very long pause,
muffled voices as the man on the phone and a woman discussed the matter, then
what seemed to Ed like a somewhat reluctant invitation.
“Can I get you something?” Lorraine Stockdale offered, “coffee perhaps, or a
soft drink?”
“No thank you, Mrs. Stockdale. I don’t want to take up too much of your time.
I’m just trying to clarify in my mind some of the things Chip has told me.
He’s told me some pretty disturbing things.”
“I’ll just bet he has,” Gerry Stockdale said. “I suppose we were abusive
parents and all that sort of thing. It’s pretty normal for kids to say things
like that, isn’t it? I mean, that’s a lot easier than facing up to their own
faults, isn’t it?”
“Chip has never accused you of anything,” Ed said wearily. “As a matter of
fact he’s said almost nothing about his involvement with his parents because
it seems he hardly knows you.
“We’re both busy, working parents,” Lorraine defended. “We’ve made a very
comfortable life here for him and his sister, and look how they’ve shown their
appreciation. We can hardly be expected to spend all our time with them.”
“He’s not accusing you, Ma’am,” Ed repeated. “But when he starts telling of
some of the goings on and I ask where his parents were, he just shrugs and
says you were downstairs, away for the weekend, out for the evening, almost
anywhere except supervising the children. I realize in this economy a lot of
mothers are forced to work, but by the same token Chip and Janet could hardly
be expected to learn acceptable moral behavior all by themselves.”
“That’s why we pay all those taxes to send them to school,” Gerry spat. “Where
the hell were the schools all the time this was going on?”
“They try,” Ed said the obvious. “The only problem is, the public schools,
like so many other government agencies, have one hand tied behind their back.
There is the obvious problem of under staffing, but there is also disagreement
among the population about just what their role is supposed to be. A good
example is sex education. Has Chip ever been exposed to any sort of sex
education at home?”
“Of course there has,” Gerry snapped. “My wife told Janet all about the
mechanics of sex, and I’m sure she passed it on to her brother, as close as
they were.”
“So Mr. Stockdale, did you ever discuss such matters with Chip? I mean on a
one-on-one basis?”
“There was no need,” Gerry answered confidently. “He had his sister, and sex
education at school. They’re qualified to teach that stuff, I’m not.”
Ed continued to try to get information without appearing to be accusing anyone
of anything. He explained that he had no power and little influence to change
either convictions or sentences, but he hoped to get to know the kids he
worked with so he could better help prepare them for their eventual release.
He didn’t get a lot of information, which in itself confirmed what Chip had
told him, that his parents simply didn’t know that much about their son. After
about an hour of verbal bantering, he thanked the Stockdales for their time
and bade them good-night. He had invited them to visit Chip, but they had said
simply that they weren’t ready yet.
Chip was totally unprepared for how good it felt to touch the warmth of
another human being, even another male, next to him. His hands wandered over
Stevie's dark chest and back, relishing the firmness of his rippling muscles,
the softness of his skin, the smoothness of his totally hairless torso. He
shuddered with pleasure as Steve explored his body, evidently making many of
the same discoveries. He could feel himself becoming aroused, while he felt
the unmistakable probing of Steve's manhood as he too came to life.
"Chip," Steve whispered, "you know we're being watched."
"Uh-huh."
"We can fake it if you like. It'll work for a while anyway."
"That what you want?"
"Truth?"
"Uh-huh."
"No, it isn't."
"Me neither."
"What do you want?"
"Everything! If it's with you, I want everything!"
The two boys lay together for a long time, just caressing and exploring each
other's body from one end to the other. The briefs were discarded, but no
attempt at anything but touching was made. "Chip?" Steve whispered.
"What, spook?"
"You ever do this before?"
"Nope. Not with a guy, ‘cept when I got raped."
"Me neither. I never done it with anyone."
"Never?"
"Nope. I got raped plenty in here, but that was different. It was cruel and
abusive, and it hurt like hell. But this... this is different."
"That mean you never been kissed?" Chip whispered.
"Nope. 'Cept for my mom, of course."
"Christ, what a waste! Those gorgeous big lips o' yours, and never been used."
"To be honest, it never occurred to me to kiss a guy."
"Shut up, Spook. I'm gonna kiss ya now, okay?"
"Uh-huh. What do I do?"
"I think you'll know."
Chip turned out to be absolutely right. When his thin white lips touched
Steve's large black ones, both made a discovery they hadn't counted on. Each
tasted sweetness, and each felt a stirring in his entire body that was
undeniable. Steve's mouth was clamped shut, his entire body tense. But when he
felt Chip's tongue touch his lips, then poke gently but persistently, he
relaxed, his lips parted, and the tongue entered. Steve moaned as he followed
Chip's lead. Hips ground together, hands roamed and explored, then came to
rest - each holding a very hard penis that was a different color from the hand
holding it.
"Careful," Chip warned. "You keep doin' that, and I'm not gonna last any
time."
"Am I hurting you?" Steve said with concern.
"No, but I can feel myself starting to cum."
"Huh? Cum?"
"Stevie, haven't you ever come before?"
"Whadda ya mean?"
"Oh, Jeez! You know, shoot your load! Have an orgasm! Like when those guys
raped you, the stuff that came out of their dicks."
"Uh-uh!"
"You... you never beat off or anything?"
"What's beat off?"
"Oh, God!" Chip exclaimed. He was remembering his first orgasm, and how he'd
thought he was having a stroke. And then, it had felt so... so...
indescribable! He wanted Stevie's first to be as good, and he wanted it inside
him.
"Just lie still," Chip instructed. "You're gonna feel something like you never
felt before in your black life! And I'm gonna make it extra special if I can.
But you better stuff a corner of that pillow in your mouth."
"Why?"
"Cause I said so. Otherwise you're liable to scream or something. I did."
"What're ya gonna do?"
"I'm gonna give you a blow job. I've never done it before, but I've had it
done to me hundreds of times. I think you're gonna like it."
The experience was indeed very special to both participants. Chip found Steve
to be very well endowed, and the sensation and taste of a penis in his mouth
was far, very far, from unpleasant. It was mere moments later when Steve
started to climax. Chip had lots of warning because Steve tensed, then
relaxed, then shuddered. He gasped loudly, then bit hard on Chip's leg,
emitting a high pitched squeal that would've been a scream in less restricted
surroundings. So Chip was ready and waiting.
Of course Chip had tasted semen many times before - his own semen, as he
lapped it up from where he had deposited it. But it had always been mixed with
the secretions of a female organ. What he got from Steve was pure and
plentiful, sweet and creamy, and deposited directly into his mouth. To Chip it
was as heavenly, perhaps more so, than anything he had ever experienced. But
there was so much of it! As the fluid kept coming and flooding his mouth, Chip
pushed a finger, then a second, as far as he could up Steve's anus as he
sucked greedily on the pulsating black thing in his mouth.
"I'm real sorry, Chip," Steve whispered after they had lain quietly for ten
minutes. "I had no idea I was gonna do that."
"You're sorry you did it?" Chip queried as he licked off his fingers.
"No... No, it was great! But I... that stuff..."
"I never tasted it like that before. But believe me, it won't be the last
time. It was... Oh God! It was fantastic!"
"Really?"
"Really!"
"So that was what you meant? You were getting ready to do... that?"
"Uh-huh."
"Did you?"
"Nope, not yet."
"Still ready?"
"I don't think it'd take much."
"Can I try?"
"You sure you want to?"
Steve didn't answer. He nodded his head slightly, then made his way to where
the subject of their conversation was waiting. Chip wanted this to last, but
it didn't. He wanted to enjoy the warmth, the sensation of the fat lips, the
slight pinching of white teeth, the thoughts of what was happening, but the
temptation to bring things to a climax was just too much. The thing that he
had milked dry only minutes before was inches from his face, again big and
hard, and he couldn't resist taking it in his mouth again. Only seconds later,
it seemed, he was wrapping his legs around Steve's head and injecting his
fluid into Steve's eager mouth, which seemed to trigger Steve to do the same.
He had never dreamed it would happen again so soon, so the flood of sweet
cream in his mouth was completely unexpected. Evidently, Chip thought, it
wasn't dry after all.
When two sleepy boys, one white, one black, entered the shower room in the
morning there was none of the usual poking at their butts and suggestive
remarks from the others. Little was said to them, really, and the boys knew
what it meant: They had been seen making love, giving their all to each other.
Chip felt an odd sense of regret about that. He didn't understand it, but
suddenly his love, and their lovemaking, were very private and Chip wanted to
keep it that way. But on the other hand, he and Steve were being left alone,
so the show they'd put on had its merits.
"You okay, Stevie?" Chip asked as they ate breakfast with some concern.
"No," Stevie grumbled good-naturedly, "I'm not okay at all! I got a sore dick,
I'm tired, and I gotta get through a whole day before I can do it again."
"Yeah," Chip agreed, "me too. But we don't have to do it anymore, for a long
time if we don't want to. Didn't you notice the difference in the shower
room?"
"I noticed. So what's your point?"
"They're off our case, Stevie! You're my 'momma'! Or I’m yours, or maybe
both."
"Yep, and momma needs another blow job, and a fuck job too. Know where I might
get something like that?"
"Stevie, baby," Chip said with a grin, "get ready to cry uncle!"
"Chip," Steve said seriously, "How come you're calling me 'Stevie'?"
"I... I dunno. It just... it just seems to fit."
"It didn't fit yesterday."
"Yesterday we weren't... I didn't... I didn't know I loved you yesterday."
"L-love?"
"Yeah, love! I'm sorry, Stevie, but I do! I guess that makes us queers, 'cause
I love you! And I can't wait for tonight!"
"You're looking really chipper today," Ed Barker said as Chip settled himself
in his usual chair, "for one who hasn't had much sleep."
"I don't know what you're talkin' about," Chip answered cheekily. But the red
glow of his face and neck said he knew exactly what Ed was talking about.
"I hear," Ed went on, "that your friend Lenny is really out of sorts today.”
"Could be, I dunno. But that's Lenny's problem. And besides he’s not my
friend."
"Could it be connected to something you've done?"
"I guess you're gonna have to ask Lenny."
"I also heard that you bribed someone with your last two packs of cigarettes
today, so he'd trade bunks with you and let you move next to Steve."
“So?"
"Could it be you wanted to reduce the commuting distance?"
"Could be, except that what you're suggesting is against the rules."
"Are you telling me it doesn't go on?"
"Are you telling me there's something unusual about wanting to be close to a
friend, so you can talk?"
"That's one reason for being close. But I can think of others."
"You calling me a faggot?" Chip challenged.
"No, Chip, I'm not. But something happened between you and Steve, didn't it?"
"What makes you think so?"
"Chip, it's all over the camp!"
"Great! And besides, didn't you tell me to do it?"
"Not exactly; but I didn't tell you not to."
"So what's your problem now?"
"No problem, Chip. Just relax! I have a pretty good idea what happened. I just
want to be sure you understand fully what's happened."
Ed tried not to show his grave concern. He knew his boss was going to be
delighted. He knew that his one session with Chip couldn’t possibly have had
such an influence unless there had been some gay tendencies there anyway. He
knew Howard wouldn’t care, that he’d want Ed to continue his campaign to turn
the young sex offender into a homosexual, completely and totally; but now he
had another problem. He didn’t want Chip to go on thinking he was in love with
his sister, but he wanted to break the relationship gently, not all at once
because Chip had found someone else. But Chip would not be dissuaded, once the
gate was open.
"What's happened," Chip spat back, "is that Stevie and I are lovers. You got a
problem with that?"
"Yes, Chip, I do. There's a big difference between physical gratification, for
mutual benefit, and love. You need to understand the difference."
"I do! I love Stevie, and he loves me!"
"But only yesterday you said you loved Janet."
"I do! Is there some reason I can't love two people?"
"The two people might suggest a problem. Have you checked with them?"
"I've checked with Stevie, and you know fuckin' well I haven't checked with
Janet."
"Well, you're gonna get your chance. Janet's gonna be here Sunday."
Chip sat staring at Ed, stunned by his news. He had not expected to be allowed
visitors for a few more weeks, nor did he expect Janet to be allowed in at
all. She had written him, telling him that their parents were adamant that she
could not visit Chip or anyone else in a place like this. He knew she'd make
it because she said she would; but it was very unlikely that it would be until
after the baby was born.
"You don't seem really pleased," Ed questioned. "I had to pull a lot of
strings to make this happen."
"I'm pleased," Chip replied. "But... well, it's kinda sudden..."
"And you have something to tell her, right?"
"Yeah. But she'll be cool about it."
"Are you sure, Chip?"
"I think so."
"Chip, you have to understand, this place is different. It's almost like being
in another world. Guys do things here they wouldn't dream of doing outside."
"You mean... with each other?"
"Yes, but lots of other things too. I know everyone in here messes with each
other; but those same guys wouldn't consider such a thing once they're out.
The fact is they are all young and full of hormones, and they do what they
have to do to satisfy their desires. Once they’re out they will revert to
whatever is normal for them. It's like they change completely.
"Chip, you have to learn to act differently in here. It's fine to make
friends, help each other, and... well... do whatever you have to do. But you
shouldn't form relationships that you can't break easily. There's so much that
can happen, and usually does. You gotta live for the moment, but don't plan on
the people in here beyond tomorrow."
"You're sayin' I shouldn't trust Stevie?"
"No, not that you shouldn't trust him; just that you need to be sure you're
prepared if things change. Once he's out, or you, one or the other of you may
very well revert to completely straight behavior. We really have no idea what
might happen."
"I know! Stevie wouldn't do me that way. I love him and he loves me. And
besides, neither of us is going anywhere any time soon."
Ed knew Chip was absolutely right on that last point. Given Howard’s
objectives, he knew the man would see to it that Chip’s gay relationship had
lots of time to develop and deepen before he’d let either one of them so much
as change dormitories.
"Just be careful, Chip. Be sure you're not getting in too deep."
"I'm not. I felt wonderful that I had someone to love, till you threw a bucket
of cold water on it for me. Thanks a lot!"
"Go ahead and feel wonderful, Chip. But just understand that what you have in
here is for in here. When you get out, everything changes, same as it did when
you came in."
"I'm not even thinking about when I get out," Chip argued. "I just can't think
that far ahead. So for the time being, this is my home, my life, my world."
"You shouldn't think that way,” Ed lectured. “Things in here have a way of
changing so quickly it'll take your breath away. I'm not at all sure you'll be
here very long, or Steve either. What if one or the other of you gets out?
What then?"
"Then we'll live with his mom, or get an apartment."
"Only if you both get out. What about if one does, and the other doesn't?"
"You're talking bullshit! I thought you'd be pleased that we're gettin'
together."
"I'm pleased for you, if that's what you want. I just want you to realize that
life in here is very temporary, very changeable.”
Chip was so confused he didn’t know what to think. Yesterday his favorite
counselor had practically ordered him to have sex with Steve, then today he
seemed to have done a complete about face. Chip had been so proud that he
hadn’t just had another casual sex affair, but had acted out of love; now he
was being told he’d used the wrong reason. He was in no mood to continue their
conversations about the sexual exploits that had got him here in the first
place, so Ed didn't push the issue. He gave Chip two packs of smokes, all he
had, and told him to use them wisely because he didn't know when he'd get
more. Chip thanked him, then added that Stevie was expecting more money from
his mother any day. He went back to the dorm, but Steve wasn't there.
"You gonna join the basketball team?" Andy Rogers asked as Chip put away his
cigarettes.
"Didn't even know there was one," Chip answered.
"There wasn't. But they're tryin' to start one, an’ they're havin' trouble
gettin' players to sign up."
"I don't think I will."
"Why not? I hear you're pretty good."
"I dunno, I guess I'm losing interest."
"It's funny, y'know,” Andy reflected. “You guys spend hour after hour shooting
a ball through a basket, but when you get the chance to show how good you are,
you can't be bothered."
"Fuck off!" Chip snapped. "I just did two hours with Ed Barker, so I don't
need you playin' social worker with me!"
Chip went out to the exercise yard. It was getting hot, but Chip didn't mind.
He had another hour before he had to report for school, and he wanted to spend
as much time outside as he could. He lit a cigarette as he scanned the yard,
finally spotting Steve on the far side, near the main fence. Steve hadn't seen
him, and in fact was looking the other way, watching something very intently.
As he approached, Chip noticed that everyone else was watching the same
something, whatever it was.
"Watcha watchin', Spook?" Chip called as he ran up to Steve. He didn't answer,
but merely signaled for him to be quiet. Chip looked in the direction everyone
else was watching, and his blood turned to ice. There was David Perry, the boy
who had agreed to testify against Garth. He was standing talking to two of the
older, larger inmates. Gary, one of the two, had a reputation for being less
that a rocket scientist in the brain department. He also had a reputation for
loving the sight, smell, and taste of blood. He was the kind of kid everyone
avoided as much as they could.
The discussion of the three boys was getting quite animated, but Chip couldn't
make out what they were saying. David looked to be about ten years old, though
Chip knew he was at least fifteen. Finally David pushed past his two
adversaries and started to walk away. Big mistake! As the dozen or so shocked
inmates watched in horror, Gary made a lunge for the smaller boy. He seemingly
missed, but David stopped in mid-stride, a look of total surprise on his face.
His mouth opened slowly, and blood gushed out and down his chin in a torrent,
making a river of red down his white T-shirt. He staggered, took another step,
then fell.
Seeing the blood appeared to turn Gary into a raging animal. In one motion he
cut David's jeans and briefs from waist to crotch; in another he grabbed a
handful of genitals, then a swipe with his other hand and they separated from
David's body. But it really didn't matter, because David was already dead.
"There, you fuckin' little canary," Gary shouted, "let's hear ya sing now!"
Chip wanted to turn and run as fast as he could away from the ugly scene, but
he couldn't move. His knees suddenly felt so weak he feared they would go out
from under him at any moment. Gary was still hacking and stabbing at what had
been David Perry. What was left of him was rapidly becoming unrecognizable as
Gary, covered with blood now, did his thing.
No one saw the two guards run up, so mesmerized were they by what was taking
place. "Drop it, Gary!" one of them ordered. No one expected that Gary would
drop his knife. He looked over his shoulder at the two uniforms. "Fuck you!"
he screamed, then went back to his carving. "Drop it!" the guard shouted
again. "Drop it now, or we shoot!" Chip wanted to jump in front of the pistols
as they exploded. He wanted to be in another world, and that was a real fast
way to get there; but he was still frozen to the spot where he stood. He was
too weak even to fall down.
As soon as Gary stood and started for the officers, they each fired. Chip
heard the deafening thunder of the guns going off. He saw two holes appear in
Gary's chest; saw blood spatter from his back as the bullets exited. He saw
Gary stumble and stagger, a confused look on his face, then lunge for the
bulls again. They both fired again. Still Gary advanced, his own blood mixing
with David's. He tried to scream some obscenity, but all that came out was a
comical gurgle.
Bullet number five caught Gary in the throat, causing a fountain of blood.
Number six, fired at exactly the same instant, took the left half of his face
away. He was very definitely dead now, but still he stood. The vertical corpse
wavered slightly, the knife dropped from his hand, then he fell over backward
and was still. Chip suddenly realized that he had wet his pants, but he didn't
care.
The boys were herded into their dorms and locked down for the rest of the day.
The air in the buildings was hot and stale, but no one noticed. They lay in
their bunks, no one talking, everyone thinking. A few of them, including Chip,
wept openly. His pants were soaked with urine from waist to knees, but no one
noticed or cared. Chip wasn't the only one who'd lost bladder control; some
had done more than urinate.
The cool wetness of his pants reminded Chip of the games he'd played with his
sister when he was seven. How he longed to be on her bed now, diapers and baby
powder and all! He would gladly wear nothing but diapers for the rest of his
life if he could suddenly be transported out of here. But Scotty was evidently
not at his controls, and wasn't beaming anyone anywhere.
He thought of Stevie, and suddenly wanted to be close to him; but he had
neither the strength nor the courage to get up and take the two steps that
would get him there. So he lay alone, like all the other boys in the room.
_Things have a way of changing so quickly in here!_ Ed had told him. Boy!
Little did he know! Things certainly had changed quickly for David Perry! He
had been sent here for six months, for stealing a bicycle! Theoretically he
shouldn’t even have been here because his sentence was to short, except that
the short term juvenile facility didn’t have room for him.
"I tell you, Max, he has no business there!" Ed Barker raged.
"That's not what the judge said," Max Edwards answered. "I'm only the District
Attorney. What do you expect me to do?"
"What I know you're good at: I expect you to reconsider your position. You
know Chip didn't do all those things because he's some kind of a monster."
"But he did do them."
"He was coerced!"
"Says who?"
"Says me! He's told me the whole story!"
"So tell me."
"I can't! I swore to him that I'd keep it our secret. You know the best thing
I’ve got going with those kids is that they trust me."
"So you want me to go to the judge and tell him I don't know why, but I think
we've done the kid an injustice!"
"Please," Ed begged, "just speak to the kid. Let him show you what kinda stuff
he's made of. Give him a chance to tell you his story. But many more incidents
like yesterday, and he'll be just as hard as any of the others in there."
"So two kids get themselves iced! Does that mean we should let all the rest
go?"
"C'mon, Max, you know that's not what I'm saying. We can't just release him,
he has no place to go and he still needs a lot of counseling. But he should be
some place where he can get his life glued back together, not in a fuckin'
prison!"
"Let me think about it, okay? And anything you feel you can tell me, write it
down. I promise I'll read it."
Ed Barker had taken it upon himself to segregate some of the more dangerous,
repeat offenders, from the kids who had really found themselves incarcerated
by chance, not necessarily by design. But it was difficult. First of all there
wasn't the structured parole system of the adult prison system, so the kids
had to rely on an advocate getting their sentence changed. The prisons were so
overcrowded that it was nigh impossible to stratify the kids into groups. Once
a youthful offender was safely placed in an institution, the authorities
preferred to hear no more until it was time to release him. The alternative,
juggling beds to transfer a kid to a more fitting location, was just not worth
the hassle.
Frequently a parent or guardian would go to bat for a kid, hoping to convince
a judge that this person had been treated unfairly, and that he had a loving
home and family to return to. Ed knew very well that it was often bullshit,
but it worked. But in Chip's case, his only ally seemed to be his sister; his
pregnant, underage, demented sister! The rest of his family had evidently
abandoned him completely, and no one was inclined to release yet another teen
to the streets. Physically, Ed agreed that Chip was better off where he was;
but emotionally, he would be destroyed like so many others before him.Ed made
his way wearily back to the prison after his meeting with the DA. He wanted to
talk to Chip and two other boys before the day was over, to see how they'd
come through yesterday's ordeal.
"Chip!" Janet called. He had been summoned to the front gate to meet his
sister, but still hadn't seen her as he walked among the other inmates and
guests. When he heard his name called, he broke into a fast trot. Of course he
hadn't recognized her, she was a big as a house!
"Jeez, Jan," he struggled through his tears, "it's so great to see ya!"
"It's good to see you too, Chip," she said as she embraced him, then ran her
fingers through his hair the way he loved.
"Sometimes..." he said through a muffled voice as he buried his face in her
breast, "sometimes I think I'm never gonna see you again. And I can't stand
that thought, Janet! I can't stand it!"
"I know, baby. But we'll see each other plenty, once this mess is over. And it
WILL be over, you just wait and see."
"You really are looking good, Chip," Janet repeated as they strolled down the
grassy pathway that they loosely called a lawn, "They treating you okay?"
"Yeah, fine, really. We get three good meals a day, and lots of exercise. And
I'm back in school."
"Yeah, so Ed told me."
"You've met Ed?"
"Sure! Who d'ya think got me the visitor's pass so soon?"
"He's a great guy. I'll have to remember to thank him."
"How's everything else? I worry about you, that you're going crazy being
locked up. I need you to be strong when you get out ‘cause you’ll have a kid
to support."
"Naw, it's really not that bad. I just wish I could be out, and with you. But
things go all right in here, really."
"I heard there was a chance the visits were gonna be cancelled today. What
happened?"
"Nothin,' really. Just a little trouble Wednesday."
"What kinda trouble?"
"Nothin.' Just some guys got in a fight."
Janet stopped walking and grabbed Chip by the arm, swinging him around to face
her. "Don't mess with me, Chip!" she ordered. "I been looking into those big
blue eyes of yours a long time. I been taking your pants off and putting 'em
on you all your life, and there's not an inch of your body I haven't kissed.
You can't fool your big sister, so tell me. What happened?"
"T-two of the guys got killed," Chip blurted out, then he started to cry.
"Got killed? That's terrible! How'd it happen?"
"One of the new kids squealed on a medic that was raping the kids. Then one of
the older kids stabbed him, and the guards shot him. No big deal, honest. They
broke the rules, they paid the price."
"You don't fool me, Chip Stockdale! So don't even try and tell me it doesn't
matter to you."
"It doesn't! All ya gotta do is play by the rules, and they didn't. Now they
don't play at all."
"Then how come you can't look at me? And how come you're crying? And how come
your voice is shaking?"
"It... it doesn't matter how I feel, Jan, cause there's nothing we can do
about it. I'd just like to forget it. There's some pretty crazy kids in here,
but I'm learning who they are, and then I'll just avoid them."
“Just so you don’t let anything happen to your anatomically perfect part,”
Janet said with a smirk. “I need you, Chip. I need you to get a job and help
me raise this baby, and I need your... well, you know.”
"How are things at home?" Chip asked, changing the subject, "How'd you talk
Dad into letting you come out here?"
"I didn't, Chip. I have no idea how things are at home because I've moved out.
I decided to keep the baby and Dad went wild, so I moved out."
"What! Moved out? How are you living? Where are you living? How are you gonna
keep the baby? What..."
"One at a time, Daddy!" Janet laughed. Being called 'Daddy' made Chip swell
with pride, in spite of the circumstances.
"As soon as the adoption agencies found out about the baby, I mean that the
father was my brother, they wouldn't have anything to do with it. So I said I
wasn't gonna just drop it in some orphanage or something, not with your blood
in its veins, so I decided to keep it."
"But... Won't it be deformed or something? That's what they told me, and
that's why it's against the law for us to get married."
"It's a risk, but I don't care. Besides, they've been watching it like a hawk
at the shelter where I'm staying because of the circumstances, and they think
there's nothing wrong with it."
"How do you feel?" Chip asked seriously, "I mean really feel, about what
happened? I mean, you're gonna have a baby, and I'm the father."
"I wish I could get you alone right now," she said with a smirk. "I'd get
started on the second one."
"Really? You're not mad?"
"Hell, no! In another month or so I'm gonna have my own little Chip to hold,
until I can hold the real thing again. I don't care if you are my brother. I
love you, Chip, and I want to make a life with you. We're gonna have a dozen
kids, you and me. You got responsibilities now, little brother. You’re gonna
be a daddy real soon."
"But... we can never be married..."
"Who gives a fuck? That's not important any more. All that's important now is
that we're together, and I can't wait!"
"So," Janet said as they sat at a picnic table placed for the occasion, "You
made any real good friends?"
"Uh-huh. You'll meet him in a little while. Right now he's with his mother.
His name's Stevie Jordan. He's black, a little less than a year younger than I
am, and he's a real good friend. He's been pretty well supplying me with
smokes, and that means a lot in here."
It turned out that Janet did indeed know her brother pretty well. She knew him
well enough, in fact, to sense instantly that there was more, much more, to
the relationship than Chip was telling. And of course she'd heard stories of
what went on in places like this. "Is he... well... is he..."
"Yes, Janet," Chip replied, knowing exactly what Janet was having difficulty
saying. "He... We're lovers."
"Oh."
"Jan, he's so nice, and cute too! I know you'll love him."
"Chip, I thought you loved me!"
"I do, Jan, but you gotta understand, things are different in here. If you
don't pick your lover, they'll pick you and there's nothing you can do about
it. So Stevie and I figured since we kinda liked each other anyway, we might
as well go for it."
"But... I always thought that we..."
"We will, sis. When I get outta here I’m not gonna have any other place to go,
but that’s not for a long time yet. I thought you’d be pleased that I’m happy.
I thought you’d be glad I found someone in here so I wouldn’t be alone. In
case you haven’t noticed, there aren’t a lot of girls in here."
If Chip had known the whole story, he would have been very surprised at his
sister’s reaction to his love affair. She had used much the same reasoning
that he had: that he was out of commission and would be for some time, and she
wasn’t about to put her life, her sex life, on hold. But she didn’t bother to
share that information with him. She was concerned though - concerned that she
might lose her hold on her brother. She was counting on Chip to take care of
her when he got out; but perhaps she could get some support from him even
before that. It was very important to Janet that she maintain control of her
brother.
To be continued...
* * * |
"The Medical" | STRAIGHT, WARNING, PENECTOMY, TESTICLES | Under Britains radical new \'politically-correct\' Government, more and more women are elected to Parliament to operate the \'levers of power\'. When it comes to sex-offenders and their crimes against women they are naturally less squeamish when it comes to punishment. Soon castration is on the statute books and sex-offender Eddy Booth will be the first to feel the cruellest cut - though he doesn\'t know it yet...... | ` Kent. England. The near future. `
Eddy Booth looked around him from the comfortable padded leather bench to
which he was strapped securely. On day-release from a prison for sex-
offenders, he'd been sent to a private medical clinic for a full medical
check-up - 'contracting out' was all the rage these days and was said to be
more 'cost effective'. Eddy could not believe his luck when he saw the
proprietor, an attractive dark-haired Doctor of about 30 and her young medical
assistant - an athletic blonde of about 18 or 19 years of age. The Centre only
had one very solid door and an armed female security guard manning the
reception desk, who doubled infact as the receptionist. Even she was not
unattractive, being full-bodied and about 25 he guessed. The prison van had
dropped him off, and he had been been informed that he would be picked up in
24 hours time. Eddy reflected, 'Damn it! Even the two bloody prison van guards
were nice young females like so many of the prison guards. It was a plot to
frustrate the prisoners! They all seemed to be sporty and fit, yet so
completely unattainable - though rumours persisted that some lucky prisoners
were 'graced with their favours' on occasions. What had puzzled Eddy, however,
was the way the bitches had been smirking at him in the mirror so much as he
sat in the back in his straight-jacket. The smirking had continued as he was
handed over to the Doctor and her assistant. He had been marched along a
corridor to the clinic room, after the clinic guard had joined them, and they
had collected electric cattle-prods to threaten him with. Once in the spotless
clinic room the assistant had stripped him naked and removed his straight
jacket whilst the other two watched. He hardly had time to stretch his limbs
before he was coerced onto the towel-draped padded bench and securely strapped
in a spread-eagled manner - a strap was even passed over his chest to further
restrict him. Finally, a rubber ball-gag was pushed into his mouth before he
could ask what all the fuss was about. Unbeknown to Eddy the latest election
had seen yet more female MP's elected to Parliament, giving them a majority of
the seats. Radical feminists had entered the new Parliament, and at last a Law
to deal firmly with sex-offenders had been introduced - which included
castration for rapists like Eddy.... and he was to be one of the first. The
women had left Eddy on his own in the clinic room, shortly after strapping him
down. His thoughts began to roam, and soon Eddy was fantasising about his
upcoming medical, oblivious of his impending actual fate. Eddy watched with
some alarm as his penis rose to a full erection, the glistening dome coming
into view. Eddy, like all prisoners, was forced to masturbate regularly to
relieve the frustration of prison life. However, he also liked to deny himself
so that he would appreciate the sexy female guards more and enjoy his self-
denied orgasm when he finally allowed it. He had known his medical was coming
for over a week now, and had been determined to deny himself so that he could
enjoy the attentions of any nurses involved even more. Nevertheless, he was a
little nervous about displaying himself like this; would they ignore it?; he
doubted that they could, after all he was a very large man and his erection
was a very solid 8". He was after all a sex-offender, and they may become
angry - he thought nervously about those cattle-prods, but his erection
throbbed on. He heard footsteps and the door suddenly swung open, the Doctor
and her assistant's plimsolls squeaked on the polished floor. He noticed that
they had changed out of their white coats and were now wearing green
rubberised apron/gowns and matching half-face masks. Instantly, he saw the
Doctor's eyes widen and fix on his huge erection; the assistant audibly
gasped. The Doctor paused for a moment and then strode purposefully to him.
She spoke to him for the first time, " Prisoner Booth, I don't like sex-cases
with hard-on's, especially when they're very large hard-on's." She punctuated
her words by slapping the large column, making it waggle lewdly. " You must be
around 8".", she continued, capturing the column in her hand and holding it
steady. "You realise of course that if I want to rid you of this state I can
do so very efficently, and you won't like it at all." Booth shivered slightly
with nerves. The Doctor continued her almost playful slaps to his enormity and
continued, " I must unfortunately tolerate this display temporarily. Do you
know why?" Booth moaned a little into his gag, he could see both girl's thighs
below their short green rubberised gowns, but her slaps were beginning to
sting his erection, even though it remained defiantly hard. She continued, "
Because, we have an arrangement with a local fertility clinic. Sperm is a
valuable commodity these days," her hand mercifully stopped slapping and
suddenly gathered up his very large balls in her warm grip, " and you have
plenty for us, don't you boy.", she cooed now. She looked at her assistant and
continued, "Annabel is going to help you - we want you to have a good full
discharge for us." Booth's mind raced, 'This is incredible, I can't believe
it...', his thoughts were rapidly interrupted as the athletic young girl
climbed aboard the surface, her gown riding up to reveal a tight fitting pair
of white knickers. His eyes bulged as she brought her crotch against his
column and pressed it back towards his belly. He could see and feel her
pouting labia-lips beneath the tight cotton knickers, and even a few stray
blonde hairs at either edge of her knicker crotch. She began moving herself
maddeningly slowly against his straining column, her knickered lips moving
against the underside of his flesh column.... He suddenly started, the Doctor
had injected his arm. She sat by his chest cooing quietly, " Don't worry,
that's just to keep you strong down below, because I want to tell you someting
else and I don't want to upset Annabel's work.... " Booth felt something
happening, lustful fever such as he never known began to fill his brain and he
felt his erection swell and harden even more. He heard Annabel make a little
noise of involuntary appreciation, as she pushed harder onto his straining
manhood. As he looked up he saw her unbutton her top and push out her small
but firm young breasts, apple round with full pert nipples. The Doctor
continued, " I want to keep you hard no matter what because what I'm going to
tell you may reduce that magnificent stand you're showing us - but I do so
want to tell you.... You see, Prisoner Booth, you're a kind of 'Guinea-pig', a
brand new law has just been passed and it means that dirty rapists like you
are going to be..... Castrated...", she breathed the last word into his ear
sensually. He saw Annabel's lovely face smile knowingly down at him even as
she continued her gyrations against his manhood. He was suddenly conscious of
his vulnerable balls nestling between his spread legs, only millimetres from
Annabel's gyrating young bottom. His tormentress continued, " This will be
your last ejaculation and possibly your only useful act in life so far - we're
going to castrate you and send you back to prison as a eunuch - but that's not
all - the new law allows us to make you absolutely 'safe' to women and perform
a 'full' castration - that means we're going to cut this off too." Her hand
snaked under Annabel and quickly squeezed his penis root; Annabel smiled at
him again as she paused briefly to allow her employer to make her point.
"We've decided that as soon as you've performed your 'duty', we're going to
take your 'cock' first,... and it will still be hard after you've come I can
assure you. Then we're going to take your balls - and put the whole lot in a
specimen jar to show visitors. There will be many others, but a girl's 'first'
is always her most special, don't you think." , she taunted him making an
obvious reference to female virginity. The cruel and taunting words penetrated
Booth's drugged brain, but the powerful drug kept him violently rampant,
despite the full horror of their words. The Doctor reached for a steel bowl
and continued, "Nothing you can do can prevent Annabel from forcing a nice big
load from you, into this bowl, and then we can get to work on you." With that
the Doctor climbed aboard his bound form and straddled his face. He stared up
at her black-knickered crotch, beneath her short green gown, and could see the
swell of her large, firm buttocks as she swayed slightly over him. The
horrific words had slowed his orgasm a little, but this fantastic view of the
Doctor's firm thighs and knickered womanly parts, together with the fact that
Annabel had begun fondling and rolling his big balls was driving him once more
to the brink of orgasm. The Doctor positioned the bowl, ready to capture his
precious ejaculation - worth at least È1500 to her business. Everyone was
disturbed as the buzzer on the wall sounded. Annabel paused as the Doctor
dismounted reluctantly and went to answer the intercom unit. They all heard
the Security guard speak, "Doctor Rawlings, the guests are here, shall I bring
them in." The Doctor closed the button, "Annabel, they're early - quickly, get
off him and cover your breasts. Damn, I wanted to get this part done before
they came." She opened the comms button again, " Claire, could you give us one
minute and then bring them in please." Despite the need for some haste,
Annabel lingered a little as she dismounted, purposefully causing his huge
erection to catch in the knickered groove of her gorgeous rounded bottom, his
very plum nudging into her cleft - it would have touched her anus were it not
for the separating knicker material - a tiny string of his pre-come even
briefly clung to her knickered bottom as she lifted herself off him. Claire,
the small Medical Centre's receptionist come security guard, led the VIP's, as
arranged, to view the country's first castration. The guests, all female, were
mainly women MP's, young and mostly quite attractive, their ages ranging from
25 to 45. Three young female journalists were also present to write up the
event, as well as a 20 year old sexy young female photgrapher sent to
photograph the event for a feature article in a very popular and raunchy
women's magazine (the article had already been given a title by the lady
Editor- 'Cutting back on sex-offenders' - she intended to run it as her top
story and she knew it would be an extremely big-selling magazine issue ). The
fifteen strong female audience entered amid a hubbub of female chatter, but as
they entered the noise ceased and was replaced by gasps and several discreet
nudges. They had all expected to see a naked man at a castration, and
certainly his intimate parts, but none had expected the man to be sporting an
erection - and probably the largest erection any of them had ever seen. Dr.
Rawlings quickly explained the fertility procedure and the importance of
collecting sperm from such fertile men - she even made her little joke about
it being his only useful act in life, to which there was a good deal of
nervous laughter. She also explained the drug he had been given and added that
the forced ejaculation may be upsetting to some Ladies and that they were free
to leave, and return when it was done - to view his castration. The audience
remained silent, this was simply an added spectacle for their eager eyes and
morbid curiousity. The audience was further surprised when Dr. Rawlings nodded
to Annabel and she pulled her gown over her head to reveal a tight white
leotard. Booth's fevered brain registered that her white knickers and white
lycra sports bra had infact been connected and part of the same garment. Dr.
Rawlings explained that the female form is always likely to enhance the
ejaculation. (Annabel was something of an exhibitionist and had no problem in
flaunting her athletic figure before the women.) The fertility clinics were a
growing phenomenon, allowing many 'independent' women to raise families
without men if they chose to - most of the women MP's present were fully in
favour of them, and aware of the difficulties involved in obtaining good
quality sperm from fit and healthy men (infact one of the MP's present was a
client of the very fertility clinic in question!) Dr. Rawlings began tying
up the man's huge balls, placing a rubber ligature noose around the root of
the sac. The young photographer's camera flashed as she did so. She tightened
the noose and the sac ballooned until the trapped balls waggled between his
legs in their taut, shiny sac like a piece of fruit. She then placed another
noose over the massive erection and lightly secured it at the root - she
didn't want to restrict his discharge. Annabel moved around to the opposite
side of the bench with her two bowls, one for his sperm, and one for his
sexual organs.... Dr. Rawlings placed a pair of steel tongs around the root of
his balls and tightened them, she would be able to use them to pull on his
balls as she severed them shortly. Annabel gripped his massive column and
began pumping it steadily. The audience of women were mesmerised by the
proceedings and seemed to focus on the very plum of his organ as it
glistenened with pre-come and was jostled above Annabel's tightly gripping
fist. Eddy Booth's time as a man was short as he rolled his head left and
right, first taking in his masturbator's pert little apple-breasts, being
joggled within her tightly clinging white leotard by her actions, and then to
his right the strangely erotic sight of the audience of women - many of whom
wore quite short skirts - he could see their stockinged legs. He made out the
full hipped but young and quite innocent form of the photographer in her very
tight brown corduroy trousers - even as her flash went again and she caught
the moment in her camera for the readers of 'Liberated!' women's magazine. Dr.
Rawlings held her scalpel close to his excited sex organs - she was impatient
to aquire his valuable come and then begin cutting him. Annabel had her bowl
positioned and angled ready to catch what she suspected would be a very
powerful ejaculation, whilst Booth's tied balls jiggled lewdly in the clamp as
her delicate hand worked on the iron-hard shaft. The female MP and fertility
clinic user, knew then that she would use her influence to obtain this
particular sperm for herself, after all he was young and very fit-looking. She
silently egged him on in her mind, 'Come on, come for me you brute - give it
up, make me pregnant, shoot for me.... I want to see it...' Many women were
excited, including one sexy young MP who felt she would like to try a
castration fantasy with her lover (who liked her to tie him up anyway). It
could be a surprise for him once he was bound - she could threaten his balls
with one of her kitchen knives for fun - pulling them and holding the sharp
blade to his stretched sac. She could pretend to suspect him of having been
unfaithful to her to heighten his fear - and if he confessed to something she
didn't know about who knows what she may do in her passion.... The sexy young
photographer was not the only one to have become moist in her knickers.....
She was not privy to the fact that a full castration was about to take place
and infact she was amazed when she saw the scalpel hovering near the root of
the man's amazingly large erection. Surely they were not going to cut him
there, she thought castration mean't the balls were cut off. God, that was so
cruel she could hardly believe what she was seeing - to cut a man's very
erection! Yet, perversely, her innocent and highly imaginative young mind was
excited by what was going to be done to this helpless man, and she even had a
brief sexual fantasy as she stood there. In her daydream-fantasy she was bold
and brash, not shy; she was naked in front of the audience of powerful women
and it was her forcing him to come - because he was inside her tight young
vagina and she was actually fucking him, whilst knowing what would follow for
him as a result when he came in her. The Doctor and her Assistant had clamps
and scissors positioned at the very root of his iron-hard erection and around
his tied-up balls. As soon as she had forced his come out into her the women
would literally cut everything he had off - even whilst his penis was still
inside her....... Annabel was herself becoming very excited, she wished she
could grind herself on his hard-on again - he was so big. In the back of
Booth's mind lay the fear of his imminent gelding, and this was delaying his
discharge - he could even see the scalpel in the Doctor's hand, though the
drug kept him violently rampant. Fear kept Booth on the edge of orgasm for a
long time, counterbalancing the drug, and Dr. Rawlings was becoming more and
more annoyed and impatient. A whisper and a nod were exchanged and some in the
audience were further surprised when Annabel clambered onto the bench and sat
heavily on his face, though the women seemed to collectively understand that
he needed that little further stimulation in order to 'produce' his seed. It
was indeed what was required to finish prisoner Booth as a complete man once
and for all. Annabel's thinly covered pussy literally mashed his face as she
settled herself and he could clearly smell her excitement and all of her
feminine odours, even a little urine, infact the smells filled his nostrils.
He was going over the the edge, he was going to come - and there was nothing
he could do to stop it as his brain boiled in lust. Somehow the women seemed
to sense that he was going to come, as did Annabel and she quickly positioned
the bowl and angled it to 'catch him'. The erection jerked hard in her
insistent hand, Booth screamed into his gag, and Annabel's smothering crotch -
as his come literally fired violently into Annabel's waiting bowl - even as
the camera flashed yet again. "Goodness!", exclaimed one of the women MP's,
"he's an animal!" The MP fertility clinic user breathed out, she tightened her
thighs and felt that she might come too. Dr. Rawlings allowed four big shots
of seed to escape into the waiting bowl as Booth experienced a height of
ecstasy he had never known in his life. Annabel pushed her crotch harder onto
him. Then, before his come had properly finished, Annabel pulled cruelly on
the noose around the root of his erection - instantly halting his ejaculation.
Booth felt intense pain as his next shot of sperm tried to escape and his
erection swelled obscenely, almost to bursting, and darkened. Annabel put her
sperm-filled bowl carefully to one side and selected the other, without moving
from her face crushing, squatting position. Her grip on his massively erect
penis became rougher and crueller now that she had his sperm safely in her
bowl and she bent the massive, bloated and darkened erection up so that the
plum nudged the inside of her second bowl. A blob of come smeared the inside
of the bowl as she held it there, her fingers gripping it tightly and her
nails now cruelly digging in as Dr. Rawlings positioned her scalpel carefully
against the root of the iron hard erection (which was now numb to Booth). The
room was deathly silent as the women concentrated on the coming event.
Dr.Rawlings made her cut slowly (the camera flashing again), the trapped blood
did not spray out, rather it ran out, a very deep and dark red. Annabel pulled
as the cutting continued, and Dr. Rawlings and Annabel were close enough to
see some of his sperm ooze out of the urethra tube as the Doctor cut through
it. As the blood escaped, the erection deflated in Annabel's hand, until
finally she twisted it a little as Dr. Rawlings cut through the final part.
The penis, now flaccid but still not small finally came free and Annabel
dropped the large cock in her bowl, as both women breathed out with
satisfaction. Booth could not see or feel the events below but began to panic
as he felt the warm blood running on his thighs. Bound as tight as he was and
with Annabel's weight on his face, restricting his breath, there was nothing
he could do other than jerk in his bonds. His balls were not numb, however,
and he could feel the Doctor pulling his clamped balls painfully taught, and
then the knife cutting at the root of his sac. The sensation was sharp and
sweet, the drug having dulled his pain, and incredibly he still felt randy and
'rampant', his 'rampancy', of course amounting to no more than a 'phantom
erection'. Booth's balls were soon cut free and joined the large flaccid penis
in Annabel's bowl. The plum, still protruding from the foreskin, emerged from
the edge of the bowl and a globule of sperm could be seen at the 'eye'.
Annabel lifted herself from his sweating face, and she smiled at him as he
looked down to see his empty crotch and the bloodied 'meat' in the bowl - he
fainted. The camera flashed again as the women clapped. Annabel took her bowl
with his precious come in to the incubator unit, her gorgeous buttocks rolling
in her leotard as she did so. Some of the guests moved over to look morbidly
in the other bowl, still on the bench, with Booth's severed and bloodied
manhood in. There was special interest in the globule of sperm which oozed
from the eye of the penis head which jutted lewdly above the steel bowl - and
the fact that one of the testicles had 'escaped' from it's severed sac and was
hanging out. Later, when the guests had gone, the sex-offenders manhood was
stored in a sample jar, and the cruel Annabel made sure that he was watching
as she placed it all there, whilst he was 'recovering' on his bench. The
following day his smirking female prison guards collected the un-manned Booth,
and taunted him in his straight-jacket with mock sexual teasing - a
degradation which finally broke Booth and left him an empty shell. That
evening the sexy young photographer masturbated herself with her vibrator as
she went over the day's events in her mind. She had kept extra copies of all
the photos she had taken, even enlarging some for the extra details, and they
were beside her bed as she masturbated. She turned her head and looked at her
favourite, the one where the girl's fingers are cruelly digging into the
fantastically large and hard erection as the Doctor's scalpel is pressing into
the base of it - the cut is imminent. Her fertile imagination played out
another sex-fantasy in which she was sitting naked on the rapist's face, and
had been used to help tease out his valuable seed, though some of it splashed
out wastefully onto her full young breasts and belly, actually dribbling down
into her pubic hair and onto her most personal parts. The other two women have
safely extracted the remainder of his incredibly copious and precious sperm
for the fertility clinic, and now have him ready, awaiting her instructions.
She is grinding herself on him, staring alternately at his monstrous erection
and massive bouncing tied balls, all held captive by sharp-nailed fingers,
cruelly digging in, and steel clamps;.... and the bowl at his side, almost
full with his fantastically copious and fertile sperm. He would have come more
if the women hadn't stopped him on her orders - they had enough for the
fertility clinic. The two female castraters have him 'ready' for her
instructions, whilst she is heading for an almighty orgasm. As her vibrator
brings her to her peak, her fantasy reaches it's conclusion too, and she
breathes out audibly, moaning, "Cut him.... cut him....cut the dirty rapist,
he came on me....he soiled me...." In her minds eye she sees the knife cutting
into the helpless erection, which was still trying to come until it was noosed
so tightly - she sees the blood ooze out and then some of the trapped sperm
ooze out too, as her orgasm explodes from her gorgeous little vagina - and
'onto' the prisoners face..... In time, many more jars will be collected for
the Clinic's little collection, but Annabel seems to treasure Booth's very
large manhood in it's pickle-jar. As Dr. Rawlings reminded Booth that day, a
girls first is always her most special.....
* * * |
The Other Tom Brown's Schooldays 12 | GAY, TESTICLES, MINOR | Many eager beagles, as well as many lecherous men, are still in pursuit of Tom, and soon the conspiratorial uncle will be in pursuit of his nephew’s testicles. | ` THE OTHER TOM BROWN’S SCHOOLDAYS `
By Pueros
Chapter 12 – Christmas
(Northumberland, England, November 1803)
Tom’s body quivered in orgasm as his cock spilled a small amount of white
fluid onto the grass of the sheep pasture beneath him. During Dr. Ballsoff’s
last medical check-up of Brown T’s wondrous 10 years old form, the school
Physician had been intrigued to discover that another youngster so tender in
age had begun to produce semen. He had noticed that it was a phenomenon fairly
common amongst the staff’s most favoured catamites and put it down to the kind
early exposure of the boys to regular comprehensive sexual activity.
After eventually calming from his sexual ecstasy, Tom shook his penis to try
to remove the last signs of his secret pleasure from his cockhead before being
encouraged by the ever-encroaching barking of the pursuing beagles to continue
his dash towards the forest, still half a mile away. The 10 years old was
later about 450 yards from the trees when he realised, from the now almost
deafening sound of the hounds behind him, that he was not going to reach the
cover of the trees in time. It was also then that he saw the boy on the horse
riding skilfully and speedily towards him from his right.
It did not take long for the well-dressed young rider to catch the naked young
runner and he did so just before the beagles. “Quick,” the young horseman,
about four years older than Tom, instructed, whilst proffering a hand down to
the now very scared young bait, “climb up or the dogs will have you!” The 10
years old did not hesitate to accept the offer and soon found himself, after a
little bit of trouble ascending the tall mount, clinging to the rear of his
saviour as the steed bounded north to safety in the nick of time. The fox’s
brush, still worn by the nude and caught in the speedy draught, unfurled
horizontally rearwards, resembling an impertinent tongue extended at the now
frustrated and defeated hounds. The illusion was intensified by the fact that
the tail was emerging from between two cheeks.
Having eventually achieved a safe distance, the rider brought his horse to a
trot before turning his head towards his naked passenger, still clinging
tightly to his clothed body, and advising, in a very posh voice, “Hello, old
chap, I’m Abernethy, James Abernethy.” “Brown, T,” the younger boy, deeply
relieved at his narrow escape but now also intensely ashamed of his nudity,
responded, “and thanks for your help.” “No problem, old chap. I knew that
today was the day of Soddamhall School’s special hunt, so I thought I’d take a
ride to see if I could help a chap in trouble. Luckily, old chap, you were
running in my direction and I saw you, apparently just in time, although you
might have made safety on your own if you hadn’t stopped to play with
yourself!” The sudden revelation that his rescuer had observed his
masturbation caused the 10 years old to blush from head to toe.
“How did you….” Tom began to ask before his intended query was answered. “I
brought a spyglass, old chap,” James informed, whilst patting the instrument,
now secured in a special pocket on the side of his saddle, “as I thought that
it would come in handy to spot you. I was right, although my right eye espied
more than expected!” The sudden redness of the 10 years old’s delicious bare
form intensified on hearing the explanation.
“Don’t worry, old chap,” James reassured, “I won’t tell anyone. It’ll be our
little secret. Anyway, all boys indulge in the practice after they’ve reached
a certain age, including me. However, I must say, old chap, that you’re the
youngest I’ve known who can produce sperm. I was very impressed!” Tom’s
embarrassment had begun to subside with the pleasant and unperturbed tone of
the 14 years old’s comments, and was almost replaced by pride at hearing this
last remark.
“I hope that you don’t mind, old chap,” announced James, “but I’m taking us
home where I can secure you some cover and refreshment. Don’t worry, I’ll
sneak you in without anyone seeing you in your current state and I’ll take you
back to your school later when it’s safe to do so.” Tom’s transformation from
frightened and shamed bait to relaxed and nonchalant boy was now completed by
these phrases, soothingly spoken. The 10 years old’s feeling of affinity with
and gratitude to his rescuer caused him to rest the side of his head on the 14
years old’s back and tighten his hold on the lad’s covered form. The rider’s
already hard cock began to throb in response.
Meanwhile, about three miles behind them, the pack of beagles had been
recalled by horn to their handlers and the disappointed dogs and almost 50 men
proceeded despondently to the barn of Farmer Loveboy, where the post-hunt
luncheon had been laid out. There was plenty of food and ale to enjoy but
sadly no boy afters. The hounds would not have harmed Tom, if they had caught
him, as they had been trained just to corner the bait. Instead, it was
customary for the men to cause the captured youngster hurt by enjoying his
young orifices throughout the rest of the day and night. It was an annual
drunken orgy to which all the participants, except the youngest, looked
forward with eager anticipation and this was the first time that sexual
aspirations had been denied.
“Did you see who the rider was?” asked an angry and frustrated Gamesmaster.
“No,” replied an equally aggrieved Headmaster, “but, given the location, I
suspect that it was young Abernethy. If that’s the case, there’s little that
can done. His family’s too influential in these parts. After all, they own
most of the land around here, including that upon which we’re currently
standing. Loveboy’s one of their tenant farmers!”
Tom had never seen a house so grand as James guided his horse into its vast
landscaped grounds through an entrance whose huge open elaborate ironwork
gates were supported by massive stone columns, crowned with carved lions. “Do
you really live here?” the incredulous 10 years old enquired, after lifting
his head from the 14 years old to peer round the lad’s back at the impressive
scene.
“Yes, old chap,” James answered, “my part of the family’s resided here for
hundreds of years, although the main branch are Scottish. My father’s another
James, Sir James Abernethy, one of the more junior members of a line that also
boasts several Lords and a Clan Leader.” Tom was momentarily speechless.
James then steered his steed off the long main pathway that led up to the
distant mansion and into an adjacent wood. “There’s a tunnel that leads from
the trees, old chap,” the 14 years old advised the puzzled 10 years old, “to
the house where there are many secret passageways, a legacy of more
troublesome times when they all formed part of an escape route. We’ll use the
system to smuggle you in to prevent your current embarrassment being seen
before I acquire some attire for you and introduce you to our kitchens for
some sustenance.” Tom’s grateful clinging hug of his rescuer’s body became
more pronounced in response to the announcement, much to the delight of the
recipient’s cock.
The two mounted boys eventually came to a small stone outbuilding hidden
amongst the trees, not far from the large mansion. James quickly climbed off
his horse and looked up at the delectable Tom. The 14 years old noticed that
the 10 years old’s own penis was also again hard, pointing horizontally along
the animal’s back. The sight caused the obvious bulge, within his own long but
tight brown trousers, to increase in size. However, he somehow managed to
offer the young nude a helping hand to dismount from the tall steed.
“Thanks,” Tom politely said, as he was aided safely to the ground after his
first ever horse ride, “thanks for everything.” “No problem, old chap,” James
replied, a little disappointed to lose sight of the 10 years old’s erection as
young protective hands quickly covered the embarrassing arousal. “Follow me,”
the 14 years old gently commanded as he then strode purposefully towards the
door of the outbuilding.
Tom had now appreciated how handsome James was, his straight red hair crowning
a lovely face bejewelled by gorgeous brown eyes, located above a slim lithe
body. The 10 years old’s genital excitement intensified as a result of the
realisation.
Tom followed his rescuer inside the outbuilding to find a gloomy single
windowless room with a stone floor, empty apart from a few oil lamps and a
flintlock mechanism. James used the latter to light one of the lanterns and
went to the far wall to press his free hand firmly against one of the stones
from which the barrier was constructed. The block depressed inwards and
suddenly, to the naked 10 years old’s amazement, an opening appeared in the
apparently solid floor. His dressed 14 years old companion then began walking
down some steps below the aperture into darkness, whilst suggesting “Follow me
again, old chap, there’s nothing to be afraid of!”
Tom shivered as he complied because, in contrast to the surprisingly warm and
pleasant autumnal day outside, the tunnel was cold and he could see his breath
condense in the lamplight. James paused at the foot of the steps to allow the
10 years old to catch up with him and, observing the younger boy’s shivering,
placed the lantern on the floor in order to begin the removal of his brown
jacket. “Sorry, thoughtless of me, old chap,” the 14 years old announced as he
proffered the garment to the young nude, “you’ll catch pneumonia down here
without some cover. Take this, it’ll help keep the chill away!”
Tom was very happy to accept the offer, as the jacket not only represented
warmth but also some cover for his bare body. James was less content, as the
garment hid much pleasantry from view, but he was too honourably considerate
not to make the gesture. As the 10 years old dressed, the 14 years old was
delighted to notice, before it was again hidden from sight, that the younger
boy’s cock had remained aroused despite the cold.
The jacket would, of course, normally be too big for Tom but not on this
occasion. The buttoned front was designed to finish at the waist but now
terminated just below the groin and the long twin tails at the back trailed to
the floor, so completely hiding his lustrous posterior. James could not help
but utter a low sigh of regret as the 10 years old’s immaculate form gained
some cover. However, the lustful 14 years old was already planning to restore,
and become much better acquainted with, the delightful vision later, an
objective dictated by the needs of his rampant cock, which was maintaining the
obvious protuberance at the front of his trousers.
“Right, old chap,” James declared, after Tom had given appropriate thanks for
his rescuer’s kindness, “let’s go!” The 14 years old then picked up the lamp,
pressed another stone to close the opening above and started to walk down the
now very dark tunnel. The 10 years old, finding the environment rather creepy,
followed quickly in the older boy’s wake.
“Things shouldn’t be too bad, old chap,” James suggested as they proceeded
into the blackness, “because, as my younger brother and I play here often, my
father asks some of our groundsmen to clean the tunnel regularly. You should
therefore find the floor underneath your bare feet not too uncomfortable and
we shouldn’t encounter too many spiders’ webs or other nasties. The lamplight
should also cause any rats around to flee.” However, for some reason, the
reassurance only caused Tom’s concern about what lurked about him to
intensify. The 10 years old began to shiver again, but not now as a result of
the low temperature.
The two boys advanced steadily, passing several side passageways as they did
so, before James announced, after reaching yet another junction, “We turn left
here, old chap. There’re some long stairs ahead that lead straight to my
bedroom!” The 14 years old’s cock began to throb at the thought of what he
hoped to do when that goal had been attained.
The climb up the steps was long and quite tiring and the two boys were
breathing heavily by the time James, panting not entirely due to exhaustion,
pressed another stone and a wooden wall panel opened outwards to reveal
sunlight streaming through a large window into his huge opulent bedroom. The
14 years old invited the 10 years old inside before triggering the devise that
closed the secret entrance to the tunnel.
“Welcome to my abode, old chap,” James triumphantly announced. Tom was again
momentarily speechless at the splendours of his rescuer’s bedroom, with its
immense four-poster bed and scenic view through the window of the magnificent
mansion gardens. However, the 10 years old eventually managed to compose
himself to remark in awe “What a lovely room!” He also remembered his manners
and added “I must thank you once more for all your help. If there’s anything
that I can do for you in return, please let me know.” It was the opportunity
for which the 14 years old had been praying.
“Well, actually, old chap,” advised James, “there is something!”
Meanwhile, the Gamesmaster asked the Headmaster, in Farmer Loveboy’s barn and
in a slightly slurred voice as the effects of several pints of strong ale
began to materialise, “Should I go and fetch some of the pupils to entertain
us?” Dr. Strapam considered his answer for a moment before replying “No, I
don’t think so. It would break all the hunt’s traditions. The other boys
haven’t done anything to deserve such molestation and I think it right to keep
such attention reserved as the forfeit for being caught as the bait. No, we’ll
just have to accept defeat with grace as gentlemen and hope for better next
year!”
Mr. Hardcock, like most of the other deeply disappointed hunters, was not
happy with Dr. Strapam’s response, as he felt that the lack of boy
entertainment spoiled the occasion. However, he knew better than to argue with
the Headmaster. The Gamesmaster therefore had to content himself with more ale
and the thought of enjoying young Morton that night, whilst his employer would
undoubtedly be securing simultaneous revenge on Brown T.
Tom, again noticing the bulge on the front of his rescuer’s trousers, had an
idea what the answer would be when he asked “What, then, can I do in return?”
James, smiling sweetly, decided that it was best to be blunt and replied “Do
you know what the hunters would have done to you if you’d been caught?” The 10
years old responded sheepishly “I think so!” to which the 14 years old
rejoined “Well, old chap, instead of having the cocks of almost 50 men inside
you, would you mind having mine?”
James was worried how Brown T would react to his request. However, the 14
years old received a pleasant surprise when Tom, grinning happily, removed the
jacket that covered him, folding the garment neatly over a chair, before
standing naked and erect, hands at his sides, in front of his rescuer to
announce “That’s acceptable to me, old chap!”
James had never removed his own clothing so quickly in his life and soon he
and Tom were kissing, embracing and fondling each other on top of four-poster
bed. The 10 years old later sucked the 14 years old’s cock almost to climax
before, lying face up, he raised his legs, holding them in place with his
hands, to present his pink sphincter to his rescuer’s engorged penis. The
subsequent eager but tender invasion of the youngster’s anus by the older
boy’s rampant member was the first time that the recipient experienced no pain
as a result of sodomy. In fact, both the young lovers only garnered acute
ecstasy as their copulation proceeded to simultaneous orgasm to many
accompanying groans of intense pleasure.
James began to shed tears as his semen poured into Tom’s innards, whilst at
the same time the 10 years old’s vibrating cock erupted a smaller amount of
sperm, forming a little pool around the younger boy’s navel. The 14 years old
kept his softening penis inside his young lover for a while after coitus until
he finally collapsed onto the bed in delighted exhaustion, whilst still
producing a few tears.
“Why are you crying?” a concerned Tom enquired. “Thank you, thank you, thank
you, old chap,” answered James, “that was my first time with anyone. I think
I’m crying because I’m so happy!” “Oh, is that all,” retorted a relieved 10
years old, as he ran his hand under the 14 years old’s lovely back to restore
an embrace, “shall we now make it a second time?”
James smiled and began to rub Tom’s own semen into the 10 years old’s sublime
belly. “Do you know, old chap,” the 14 years old later announced, after more
delicious foreplay and as he moved his mouth towards the younger boy’s re-
hardened cock, “I don’t know what your first name is. What does the ‘T’ in
Brown T stand for?”
Over two hours later, the two new friends finally emerged from James’ bedroom.
Both boys sported expensive finery, with Tom’s now fitting almost perfectly as
his host had borrowed the attire from his younger brother. The 10 years old
subsequently ate a sumptuous meal in the kitchens, served by the chief cook
herself, before being conveyed back to Soddamhall School in Sir James
Abernethy’s own liveried carriage and accompanied by the young heir to the
Baronetcy. The youngster’s return was in marked contract to his naked
departure from the educational establishment earlier in the day.
The smiling James’ last words to his new friend, as the latter disembarked
from the ornate conveyance to incredulous stares from those school staff and
pupils who witnessed the scene, were “Remember, Tom, old chap, I’ll be asking
my father to make sure that the Headmaster let’s you come to visit me often.
I’m taught at home by my own tutor and I therefore only have my younger
brother to, er, play with. However, he doesn’t play the time of games that we
do!” The 10 years old grinned on hearing the cheeky remark before the 14 years
old continued “Also, don’t forget, Tom, old chap, if you encounter any
problems here, let me know straight away!” Shortly afterwards the boys waved
goodbye to each other as the carriage began to leave the scholastic grounds.
Tom’s new finery did not remain on his body for long but it was removed not
just to be returned, with thanks, to Sir James Abernethy. It was now early
evening and the boy soon found himself in Dr. Strapam’s bed, as the Headmaster
wanted to make up for time and opportunity lost earlier in the day.
“Congratulations on your success in the hunt,” the Doctor of Divinity said as
he penetrated the lad, eliciting a loud shriek from the young catamite as his
anus was filled yet again but by a much larger intruder than that encountered
earlier in the day.
(Northumberland, England, December 1803)
The week before Christmas had arrived and the conspiratorial uncle set off for
the north of England by public coach. His destination would take a few days
and eventually a change of transport to attain. However, he was looking
forward to witnessing his nephew’s castration, an operation that would make
the man and his son very rich.
Meanwhile, Dr. Ballsoff had already made his preparations for the imminent
gelding and had invited Brown T for the periodic check of the boy’s delectable
body.
As the school Physician closely examined the naked 10 years old’s perfect and
completely healthy genitalia, he announced with apparent sadness “I’m afraid
that we have a problem here, young man. There’s something very wrong with your
scrotum. I think that I might have to operate to prevent potentially fatal
infection. I’ll send a message to your guardian immediately!” The news brought
tears to the appalled lad’s lovely eyes. He was not expecting any presents or
other delights for Christmas, rather the opposite. However, never in his worst
nightmares did he anticipate such a dreadful threat, and at a time when
anaesthetics had not yet been discovered.
(To be continued in the penultimate chapter – ‘Heirs’)
* * * |
Die Mädchenbande - Teil 2 - German | STRAIGHT, WARNING, TESTICLES, Torture | Ich wurde von dem Mädchen mit dem Namen Mina auf die Beine gezerrt und
festgehalten. Erst jetzt fiel mir auf, dass sie eine dunklere Hautfarbe hatte.
Und allem Anschein nach war ihre Stärke doch recht beachtlich. Sie hatte keine
Mühe meine wenigen Befreiungsversuche im Keim zu ersticken. Meine Hände waren
ja bereits auf dem Rücken gefesselt. Dazu kam noch, dass mir das Mädchen mit
den Sommersprossen die Füße mit einem Seil zusammenband. Gerade so weit, dass
ich noch gehen konnte. Laufen war damit aber wohl kaum mehr drin. Dazu kam,
dass sie schnell eine Schlinge zusammenknotete, die mir um den Hals gelegt und
zugeschnürt wurde. Sie war diejenige, welche die Schlinge festhielt.
"Also los", sagte sie zögerlich. "Gehen wir."
Zwei der Mädchen gingen hinter mir, Sommersprosse befand sich vor mir und Nika
schritt als Anführerin voran. Sie führten mich raus aus der Scheune und gingen
direkt in den Wald. Das Gehen bereitete mir dort Mühen, denn ich trat mit den
nackten Fußsohlen immer wieder auf Steine oder Holzstöcke. Der Bande schien
das gar nichts auszumachen. Immer wenn ich ein paar Schritte zurückhinkte,
wurde an dem Seil um meinen Hals gezogen, sodass ich wieder voranstolperte.
Ein paar Mal stieß mich sogar Mina – zumindest glaube ich, dass sie es war –
von hinten an. Dass alle Mädchen nackt waren, erregte mich inzwischen kaum
mehr. Mir taten nur noch die Füße weh. Außerdem bekam ich allmählich Angst.
Wer waren die überhaupt?
Es dauerte gut eine halbe Stunde, bis wir endlich halt machten. Der Schweiß
lief mir inzwischen auch schon über die Stirn. Es war eine kleine Festung
immitten des Waldes. Ein improvisierter Holzzaun markierte das Revier, in dem
sich tatsächlich mehrere Baumhäuser befanden. Ich war erstaunt. Hatten die
Mädchen das wirklich alleine gebaut? Ein kräftiger Zug an der Schlinge riss
mich aus meinen Gedanken und brachte mich dazu, dass ich weiterging. Ich
hustete kurz, wurde dann aber nach vorne gestoßen und schließlich auf die Knie
gezwungen. Ich keuchte, als Mina mich nach unten drückte. Sie blieb direkt
hinter mir stehen. Sommersprosse kam näher und löste die Schlinge von meinem
Hals. Ich atmete sofort probeweise tief durch.
Die Anführerin der Bande setzte sich nun auf einen Stuhl vor mir. Den Speer
legte sie langsam auf ihre Knie. Sie benahm sich, als wäre sie der Häuptling
höchspersönlich. Vermutlich war das noch nicht einmal weit hergeholt.
"Ich sage dir, warum du hier bist", erklärte sie. "Du bist hier, weil du
angeklagt bist, Mädchen vergewaltigt zu haben. Vermutlich wolltest du auch uns
vergewaltigen. Deswegen bist du hier."
Ich öffnete den Mund und erstarrte. Was bitte redete sie da? War sie völlig
von Sinnen?
"Das ist Blödsinn!", rief ich. "Ich war nur hier-"
Ich schrie auf, als ich merkte, wie meine Hoden brutal zusammengequetscht
worden. Ich krümmte mich sofort nach vorne. Nach ein paar Sekunden ließ Mina
los und stellte sich wieder hin.
"Hast du die Anklage verstanden?", fragte Nika nun.
"Was zur Hölle-"
Mein vorlautes Mundwerk sorgte dafür, dass mir das dunkelhäutige Mädchen nun
einen kräftigen Tritt in die Eier verpasste. Ich jappste schrill auf. Mir
wurde richtig übel. Und ich konnte sie aufgrund der Fesselung nicht einmal
halten oder schützen. Einen Moment lang beugte ich mich nur nach vorne und
jammerte. Der Schmerz war aber auch unglaublich. Jemand, der ihn noch nicht
erlebt hatte, konnte das nicht nachempfinden. Und schon gar kein Mädchen.
"Hast du die Anklage verstanden?", wurde die Frage wiederholt.
"Ja...", wisperte ich leise.
"Bekennst du dich schuldig?"
Ich stöhnte auf. Ich wusste was nun folgen würde.
"Nein", sagte ich so ruhig wie möglich.
Ich zuckte in Erwartung des nächsten Tritts zusammen, aber nichts geschah.
"Du plädierst auf Unschuldig?", knurrte meien Anklägerin.
"Ich...ja."
Nika knirschte mit den Zähnen.
"Saphira, Mina? Ihr kümmert euch darum. Sorgt dafür, dass er gesteht", knurrte
sie.
Ich blinzelte. Das konnte doch nicht wahr sein.
"Was soll das?", fragte ich. "Was wollt ihr überhaupt von mir?"
Ich wollte gerade aufstehen, als ein erneuter Schlag direkt meine besten Teile
traf. Ich knallte sofort zurück auf den Boden. Im nächsten Moment wurde ich
von Mina über den Boden geschleift, weg von der Anführerin. Als ich wieder
halbwegs klar denken konnte, wurde ich von der dunkelhäutigen auf meinen
Hintern gedrückt. Neben ihr stand das andere Mädchen. Nicht Sommersprosse.
Saphira, wenn er sich richtig erinnerte, war etwas dickleibiger als die
anderen und hatte hellrote Haare. Sie grinste über beide Backen.
"Dann wollen wir mal", sagte sie fröhlich.
"Hört mal", keuchte ich, "ich glaube, das hier ist ein Missverständnis. Ich
heiße-"
"Klappe", sagte Mina barsch.
Stattdessen nickte sie nun Saphria zu, die lächelnd einen Gegenstand
hervorholte.
"Schau mal. Das habe ich selbst gebastelt", sagte sie mit einer übertriebenen
Freude eines Kleinkindes, "Ich nenne es die Folterkugel."
Das Gerät, das sie mir hinhielt, bestand insgesamt aus einem langen Griff mit
einer Kugel oben drauf. Die hölzerne Kugel – etwa im Durchmesser einer Faust –
war zudem mit diversen Stacheln besetzt. Ich schluckte schwer. Das gefiel mir
gar nicht. Ehe ich jedoch etwas sagen konnte, wurde ich von Mina über das Knie
gelegt. Sie hielt mich fest, obwohl ich heftig zappelte. Ich schrie auf, als
sie dann mit einer raschen Bewegung meinen kleinen Penis zwischen ihren
Oberschenkeln einklemmte. Ich hörte schlagartig auf zu zappeln.
"Gut so", sagte sie kichernd. "Fang an, Saphira."
Ich spürte, wie sie mit den Fingern mein Poloch etwas weitete und dann begann,
mit ihrer Kugel in mich einzudringen. Der Gedanke an die Stacheln ließ mich
panisch werden. Wieder begann ich mich zu wehren und zu schreien. Es half aber
alles nichts, denn Mina besaß eine enorme Stärke. Sie hielt mich ohne Probleme
fest. Dann begann das Rothaar die Kugel weiter in mich hineinzustoßen und
langsam zu drehen. Ich kreischte nun. So fühlte es sich vermutlich an, wenn
man von hinten regelrecht durchgefickt wurde. Allerdings nur, wenn man von
einem klingenbesetzten Penis malträtiert wurde. Tränen standen mir in den
Augen. Normalerweise hasste ich es zu weinen, aber jetzt konnte ich es nicht
unterdrücken. Der Schmerz war unbeschreiblich. Ohne Gnade bohrte sie in meinem
jungfräulichen Hintern herum.
"Aufhören! Bitte!", wimmerte ich.
Zur Antwort gab es nur einen kräftigen Stoß, der mich aufschreien ließ.
"Gnade!", keuchte ich.
Nochmals ein schmerzhaftes Drücken. Ich biss die Zähne zusammen und spürte,
wie mir mehr und mehr Tränen über die Wangen liefen. Die Mädchen stellten mir
zur Zeit noch nicht einmal Fragen. Sie schienen vielmehr zu genießen, wie ich
litt. Mit einem einzigen, kräftigen Ruck wurde das Foltergerät nun aus meinem
Anus gezogen. Ein erstickter Laut kam mir über die Lippen, als ich das
glitschige Geräusch hörte und den Schmerz dazu spürte. Keuchend musste ich
dann zusehen, wie mir Rothaar ihre Folterkugel vor die Nase hielt. Selbige war
nun blutgefärbt. Ich schluckte schwer.
"Schick, nicht wahr?", grinste sie.
Mina krallte sich ein Stück von meinem Haar und zog daran, sodass mein Kopf
gezwungenermaßen nach hinten gezogen wurde.
"Also?", fragte sie. "Bekennst du dich schuldig?"
Ich gurgelte etwas, bevor ich schluckte.
"N-nein...ich habe nicht-"
Mehr schien sie nicht zu interessieren, denn sie ließ los und stieß mich
stattdessen runter von ihren Knien, sodass ich auf dem dreckigen Waldboden
landete. Ich drehte mich auf den Rücken und schaute in ihr missmutiges
Gesicht.
"Ich habe eine Idee", sagte Saphira schnell. "Eine wunderbare Idee."
Rothaar sprang fröhlich zu Mina und flüsterte ihr etwas ins Ohr. Mina nickte,
ehe sie mich auf die Beine zog.
"Bewegung", sagte sie.
Seufzend stolperte ich mit. Trotz der Minischritte, die ich aufgrund der
Fesselung machen musste, brannte mein Hintern bei jeder Bewegung. Ich hatte
nunmehr Angst, dass etwas in meinem Hinterteil für immer kaputt war. Aber auf
der anderen Seite war das im Moment ein eher kleines Problem. Ich wurde von
Mina an einen Baum gedrückt, sodass ich mit dem Bauch zum Baumstamm hin stand.
Mit einem Grinsen nahm sie ein dünnes Band hervor, dass sie fest um meine
Hoden knotete. Sie führte das durch ein Loch in den Bauchstamm und ging auf
die andere Seite. Gerade als ich mich fragte, was das sollte, spürte ich einen
Zug an meinen Hoden und hatte keine andere Wahl als einen Schritt nach vorne
zu machen und mich dicht an den Baumstamm zu drücken. Mina kam wieder hervor.
Anscheinend hatte sie das Band also irgendwie auf der anderen Seite befestigt.
Zu meiner Überraschung nahm sie mir die restlichen Fesseln ab.
"Kannst gerne versuchen wegzulaufen", sagte sie. "Aber dann reißen deine Hoden
ab."
Sie hatte Recht. Meine Hoden befanden sich in dem Loch, sodass ich auf keinen
Fall mit den Händen dort herankam. Stöhnend hielt ich mich an dem Baum fest,
um nicht nach hinten zu fallen. Der Gedanke, dass ich meine Hoden durch mein
eigenes Körpergewicht abriss, gefiel mir gar nicht.
Ich wollte gerade meinen Kopf drehen, um zu sehen, was nun folgte, als ich die
Antwort direkt bekam. Ein Schmerz durchzuckte mich. Dann wieder. Aus den
Augenwinkeln heraus sah ich, wie die beiden Mädchen mich mit Stöcken schlugen.
Ich jappste auf. Bei jedem Schlag. Die einzelnen Schläge waren nicht so
schlimm, aber mit der Zeit spürte ich, wie die Striemen auf meinem Rücken
brannten. Und von mal zu mal schlugen sie an eine empfindliche Stelle, an der
es wirklich wehtat. Einem der Mädchen schien es auch zu gefallen, meinen
Hintern zu bearbeiten, der mir ohnehin schon wehtat. Jeder Schlag darauf ließ
mich verkrampfen. Ich hielt mich noch immer so fest ich konnte an dem Baum
fest. Ich spürte, wie mit der Zeit meine Knie weich wurden. Ich weinte
inzwischen nur noch.
"Aufhören", flüsterte ich. "Bitte."
Das ließ sie nur auflachen. Sie schlugen noch kräftiger zu, rissen mir rote
Striemen in die Haut. Ich musste hilflos alles über mich ergehen lassen.
Endlich, als ich kurz davor war, zusammenzubrechen, wurde ich losgebunden.
Fast augenblicklich landete ich auf dem Boden und weinte. Gnade schien man
hier nicht zu kennen, denn Mina zog mich auf meine Beine.
Bevor sie etwas sagen konnte, kam Sommersprosse wieder an.
"Ich wollte nur sagen, dass das Essen fertig ist."
"Schon so spät?", fragte Saphira. "Was sollen wir denn jetzt mit unserem
Gefangenen machen?"
"Da habe ich eine Idee, keine Sorge", grinste Mina.
* * * |
|
Daddy's Pussyboy 2- doctors exam | GAY, TG, PENECTOMY, NULLIFICATION, post-op, genitals only, frustration, medical, submission, panties,lactation, forcefem, | Daddy takes Boy to the surgeon who operated on him, this time for an \"exam\". Boy gets his nipples milked, is forced to wear feminine underwear and have his pussy \"examined\" and is subjected to various sexual humiliations... | Daddy’s Boy sits on a chair in the doctors examination room in nothing but his
collar and a pair of white satin crotchless panties, with his muscular thighs
slightly spread, the thick pink lips of his new pussy exposed. The stiff
leather restraints used to cuff his wrists behind him bite into his skin. The
restraint of his arms forces his shoulders back. His big hunky pecs push
forward in the small white satin nursing bra. Daddy opened the nursing flaps
so he could see boys pecs, capped with long thick baby-bottle nipples, each
one sticking out and slightly to the sides, like a pinup girls.
Daddy stands fully clothed. Except his dick is out and semi-hard, already as
thick and long as a baby’s leg, and his balls hang huge and hairy. He stands
close enough that his cock is almost touching Boy.
Daddy reaches out and takes one plump feminine nipple between his rough
fingers and snaps them fast. Boy squeals at the sudden pain. As it fades, Boy
feels a soft pleasure in its wake, but Daddy quickly snatches up the other one
and tweaks it just as hard. Boy sucks his breath in through his teeth. As
Daddy’s fingers develop a rhythm working on Boys tits, the pleasure and pain
begin to blur. Boy feels a slow thrumming ache of physical pleasure shooting
up each fat nipple as its squeezed, and an identical twinge deep inside his
pussy where it sluices wet. His heart fills with an overwhelming yearning, but
he’s not sure for what –it’s more emotional than sexual. He just wants Daddy
on top of him, pressed up close against him…
“Yea that’s it stick out those tits, baby. You’re gonna give milk today.”
Every morning since he healed daddy works his tits, preparing them. By this
day they are so sore that whenever daddy touches them it’s slightly painful.
They feel stiff and full, aching for release.
Daddy’s cock is hard now and he feeds it to his pussyboy. Boy opens his lips
to take the wam thick meat into his mouth. It feels so good to have daddy’s
dick in his mouth. Daddy flicks and pulls on his big pink teats, making him
all warm and fluttery inside. Boy flushes in shame and confusion as a wave of
pleasure fills his cunt. The thick pouty lips between his legs moisten and
part. Boy can feel the tingle of the cool air against his wet cunt. He squirms
against the chair, smearing it with his juices.
Daddy drives his cock deeper into Boys mouth in excitement, giving his teats
one last squeeze as he shoots a thick spurt after spurt of thick white cum
into boys throat. “You want your pussy filled, huh?” Daddy puts his boot on
the chair, right between Boys legs, and slowly begins to tease Boys swollen
cunt open with the toe of his boot, rubbing the slit up and down til it parts.
Boy moans around the spurting cock in his throat and rubs his pussy on daddy’s
boot as his pleasure increases. Filled with yearning and bliss, all he wants
is to be filled more by daddy, to be closer to daddy, even though he’s so
ashamed…
But Daddy is done. He takes his boot off of the chair. He wipes his dick on
Boys lips and shoves it back in his pants. He uncuffs boys wrists from behind
him. Boys hand automatically goes between his legs but he has no dick or clit
and no longer controls what happens there. All he can do is rub his vulva in
frustration while his heartbeat recovers from the emotional rush. “Ohhhh…”
Daddy cuffs his jaw. “Get your hands off your twat, silly bitch. And close
your bra. You’re in a doctors office.”
Boy feels a rush of heat fill his face as heblushes deeply. He does as he’s
told, hooking the flaps of his bra at the top. The satin chafes against his
sore nipples, which tent the fabric. His cunt drips. He’s so aroused and
confused, he’s reeling. And he’s terrified and ashamed for someone besides
daddy to see him like this.
The Doctor comes in and shuts the door behind him.
“Well, well.” Doctor says, eyeing up the muscle boy with his see through bra
covering, with his crotchless panties and swollen pussy. “That’s a ripe-
looking peach. I cant wait to give him his first GYN exam. ” He turns to Daddy
“How’s everything going?”
“Perfect, “ daddy says. “And I think he’s ready to be milked doc. His teats
are full.”
Boys flushes again at the way they talk about his body. GYN exam! Teats! Some
months ago he was a full man, with a cock and balls, a stud at the gym. But he
has no time for reminiscing. Doctor fiddles with the hooks that secure the
nursing flaps closed on his bra and undoes them. The white satin falls away,
revealing his baby bottle sized nipples, now swollen to twice the size, pink
and stiff. They ache and feel heavy.
“Nice udders.” Doctor takes each one between thumb and forefinger and squeezes
briefly before running his thumbs over the tips. Boys lips part and he moans
in ecstasy. He tries to touch his pussy, but Doctor grabs his hands and puts
them on his own crotch, which is bulging. Doctors dick is already stiff
thinking about how he performed the surgeries on this boy and now gets to
enjoy them. The doctor tugs on Boys teats, sending twinges of helpless desire
to his pussy and heightening his emotional state with wave after wave of
yearning. Boy can feel something changing as Doctor tugss on them, right and
left. A buildup, like an orgasm, like how it felt when he had a cock, right
before he came. Then suddenly he feels his nipples squirting streams of fluid,
the pressure exploding…Doctor leans down and takes one nipple in his mouth,
sucking it out in a thicker stream while he milks the other.
Daddy is tehn on his other nipple, sucking hard. Boy whines and squeals at the
amazing sensation of the men sucking milk from his tits. It’s not like an
orgasm after all, the release is only one of pressure, but that fluttery
feeling deep inside his pussy comes back, and he squirms and moans.
Daddy stops sucking.
“I hope you like having your tits full of milk, pussyboy.” Daddy says “Cause
I’m going to keep you like this. And then when your udders ache from being too
full and heavy, you’ll beg met to milk you like a cow…”
Boy flushes deep red at the comparison. He feels a twinge in the teat that
Daddy stopped sucking. Daddy’s words increase the fluttering in the deepest
folds of Boys cunt
“Ohhh god, please don’t stop, please make me come…”
Doctor stops sucking. But the Boys nipples still dribble a thin pale milk.
They feel sore and empty after all the attention, and they are bright red from
being sucked so vigorously. Boy feels close to orgasm, the highest plateau
he’s ever reached, if only he could just peak. His fingers diddle between his
legs, looking for something to play with, something to bring him off.
Doctor laughs. “I cut your nerves myself, you’ll never cum that way. But I’m
gonna fuck you so deep you’ll cry tears of joy.” Doctor slaps away Boys hand
and slides his own hand between boys legs, fumbling in the soft wet folds of
his pussy, sinking three thick fingers deep inside at once.
“auuugh” Boy gasps.
“I think it’s time for your GYN exam,” doctor says, taking his fingers away,
leaving Boys cunt suddenly empty. Doctor pulls out two metal legs from the end
of the table that raise into the air, with a stirrup at each end. Boy pulls
away and shakes his head in horror. He’s so hungry to be filled, but the metal
scares him.
“Lay down and put your legs up in the stirrups for the doctor, like a good
little girl,”Daddy says.
Boy does as he is told. The metal is cool as he slides his ass down to the
edge of the table. As soon as his feet are in the stirrups, Doctor secures his
ankles with restraints. Boy feels the table extension under most of his ass
being pulled away. Withhis ass hanging out over air and his legs spread in the
air, his pussy completely exposed and vulnerable. Boy trembles, but there is
nothing he can do as Doctor takes out a huge speculum and slides the cold
metal between the enlarged lips of the boys hot wet vulva. Boy gasps at the
cold shock inside him. Doctor starts cranking the tool, so its duck bill mouth
opens, opening Boys helpless vagina with it. Boy winces at the pain of his
pussy stretching open further and further. Then suddenly it stops. Boys pussys
spread as far as it will go.
Doctor comes around to Boys head, his dick hard as pepperoni and leaking like
boys tits. Boy can feel his pussy gaping, open to the world as doctor rubs his
dick all over Boys face and tweaks his milky titties.
“Yea you’re vagina’s gaping open, cunt. How does it feel?”
Boy feels a deep flush of shame. His vagina! But the feel of his nipples being
tweaked makes Boy all gooey inside. The warm thick cock against his face makes
him hungry. He can feel the cool air in the hole between his legs, where his
cock used to be. But he’ll never be a man again, with a dick, never cum. He’ll
always be a pussy, always have a soft wet hole between his legs. Boy can’t
help it. He wants to be fucked. His emotions are a hot mess of joy and envy.
His breath comes in gasps.
“Ohhhh god, it feels so empty and flat… I need my pussy filled up with cock… I
need a dick between my legs….”
“Yea you do you fucking hole.” The doctor says slapping Boys pussy. “You want
me to fill you up, cunt?
“Oh yes, oh god” Boy trembles while the doctor removes the speculum, and
replaces it with his cock. Boy’s so happy to finally have thick warm meat
inside him filling him, instead of cold metal holding him open. Doctor stands
at the end of the exam table and pounds his huge dick into boys stretched
cunt, holding onto Boy’s legs in the stirrups… “Yea my cock makes you feel
like a woman, doesn’t it?”
“Oh no…aauugghh…please no…”
“Yea,” the doctor spreads Boys pussylips apart while he fucks him, admiring
his own work. “Yea, my cock makes you feel like a woman, I know it does. Tell
me the truth, cuntboy…”
Wave after wave of pleasure fills Boys pussy, but no wave is ever high enough
that he hits an apex and is appeased. Boy’s emotions soar at the feeling of
fullness and desire, he wants to become complete, he just wants to be filled
up forever, it’s the only way he’s whole…a feeling of beauty fills him, riding
the waves of emotional ecstasy as the doctors cock hits that spot deep inside
him and then he’s sobbing uncontrollably, pushing his hips to drive the cock
deeper inside him, but he’ll never be satisfied…
“Oh god yes! yes, aaaauuugh….. your cock makes me feel like a woman…it does…”
he sobs. His hands move toward his crotch, but instead of reaching between his
legs where they are useless, Boy remembers and brings them up to his tits,
swollen and chapped, but tingling with pleasure when he squeezes them and rubs
his thumbs across the tips, displacing droplets of milk.
Daddy looks at the beautiful scene of his athletic jock boy laying on his back
with his feet up in stirrups on a GYN table, wearing a nursing bra and
crotchless panties, playing with his huge leaky nipples and crying, while the
surgeon deep-dicks his swollen hairless cunt. Daddy’ s own dick is twice as
hard as it was before he came earlier, and he unzips now to put it in Boys
empty mouth. Boy moans as he takes daddys big cock down his throat, tears
rolling down his cheeks as doctor and daddy fill him up at both ends.
“That’s it baby,” daddy says. “Show the doctor how happy you are to be a woman
now…”
* * * |
The Emasculation of Bill...Chapter 13 | TESTICLES, fisting, sounding, cock and ball torture | The further adventures of Shelley, Trudy and the rest of the ladies as they work towards Bill\'s ultimate sacrifice.I enjoy your comments, ideas and suggestions, so please write. | The Emasculation of Bill…Chapter 13
I awoke to the sound of the shower running. I checked the clock on my
nightstand. Wow, it was nearly 10 o'clock in the morning. We'd went to bed at
3am. I'd slept like a baby and felt pretty good. It was dark in the bedroom. I
had put thick drapes on the windows because I loved to sleep late. I turned on
the light and rolled over. I was the only one in bed. Bill must be in the
kitchen and Trudy's in the shower, I thought. I got up and, stark naked,
padded into the bathroom. Surprise, both of them were in the shower and Trudy
was washing Bill's cock and balls. His cock was hard and she was running her
tiny hands up and down the soapy shaft. I started to get mad but thought about
it for a second. What was there to get mad about? She was just playing with my
piece of property and, after yesterday, she kinda had permission of sorts.
Besides, you could tell it wasn't sexual. She was just checking to see how
much damage we'd done. I already knew it was just the usual, day after,
bruising. It would go away in a day or two, even the big welts on his cock
shaft. Maybe today, we'd mount his swollen shaft and ride him for a while. It
really felt good with the tampon in it and the swollen welts all filling up my
pussy and stimulating the slick walls of my vagina. Good idea. Right after a
big breakfast. It surprised them both when I jumped in the shower with them.
Bill got out of the shower and said he was going to fix us all a big
breakfast. Trudy and I stayed in the steamy shower, washing each other bodies
and exploring all the good spots with our hands and tongues. We shaved each
other’s legs and pussies. She loved my big pussy lips and sucked and nibbled
on them as I washed her hair. It was a very erotic shower. When we got out and
were toweling each other dry, I told her about fucking Bill's swollen shaft
after we had breakfast. She got excited and said she was thinking the same
thing as she was washing and inspecting it this morning. She knew it would
feel good with the tampon making it so fat and the big welts all over it. She
asked how I found condoms that would go over it. I told her we never used
condoms. We both were checked for STD's and were clean. She said she was not a
bit concerned about that from us but she was scared to death of getting
pregnant and didn't know if one of those nasty sperms could sneak by the
tampon. I told her about the operation Dr. Nancy and I had performed on him.
She got so excited when I told her about pulling the cords out and cutting
them with the scissors that I thought she was going to pee on the floor. She
wished she could have been there to see and experience that. I told her about
what I wanted to do, cutting open his ballsac and pulling his swollen
testicles out, laying them on the table and torturing them while they were
totally exposed and vulnerable. Beating them with dermal hammers and
wartenburg wheels, sticking needles in them and holding and squeezing them
with my bare hands. Just thinking about it made my juices drool out of my
pussy. I could see it had the same effect on her. I told her all about Dr.
Nancy and how we could have her over for a session and what a sicko she was.
She said she hoped she would be included in the depravity. I assured her she
would be an active participant. She smiled and gave me a big wet kiss. Damn,
this little girl made me hot.
Breakfast was delicious. Bill made the best scrambled eggs I'd ever tasted.
Kind of appropriate when you think about how I scramble his eggs with my
needles. We talked about last night and how intense it had been. Bill said
Trudy added a whole new dimension to our session and, she might be an 18 year
old girl with the body of a 13 year old but her mind was a lot older. She was
very kinky and truly sadistic. I agreed 100%.
Trudy told him that, after we cleaned up the kitchen, we were going to take
him down to the dungeon and ride his swollen cock and, if he came, she was
going to personally beat his cock into sausage with a ball peen hammer. He
grinned from ear to ear. He knew how good his control was, he'd just enjoy the
ride. He got so excited that he even helped us clean the kitchen.
Trudy took Bill's finger in her little hand and led him down to the dungeon. I
followed. We were all still naked and her cute little butt next to Bill was
quite sexy. We hadn't locked the dungeon up last night so Trudy just opened
the doors and led him in. She put him, face up, on the same bench we'd had him
on last night. No wrist or ankle cuffs this time. His cock was hard and
sticking straight up, fat with the tampon and still all black and blue with
raised welts from the beatings it had endured last night. Trudy offered me the
first ride but, with a hand gesture, I indicated she could go first and I
would enjoy his tongue massage. I slid my wet pussy over his open mouth at the
same time that Trudy was trying to slowly fit his fat cock into her dripping
pussy.
Trudy and I were facing each other and I could see Bill's swollen dick slowly
sliding into her little girl pussy. It was very erotic. He was tongue fucking
my pussy and the feel of his hot, wet tongue inside my pussy walls was so
delicious. I could feel the pleasure waves start to build deep inside me.
Trudy was slowly riding up and down on his cock and I could see the look of
pleasure in her eyes. We were all enjoying the moment. I moved my asshole over
Bill's tongue and he immediately penetrated my anus with his hot tongue. I
loved the feeling of his tongue inside of my colon, licking deep inside of me,
cleaning me with his mouth organ. I started cumming in waves as his tongue
probed my asshole. Trudy was moaning softly as she rocked back and forth on
his grotesque organ, her eyes rolling back in her head and her little nipples
erect and hard as marbles. I couldn't wait for my turn on hard cock. We both
were pursuing the endless orgasm and, right now, we were succeeding. Finally,
my turn to ride his swollen dick. We switched places. Her pussy was dripping
sweet honey in golden strands as she mounted his face and presented her
pungent asshole to his warm, probing tongue. Her back initially to me, I
watched as his pointed, pink mouth organ slowly slipped past her willing
sphincter to invade the dark insides of her sweet, teenage ass and perform his
magic colon massage. My envy was short-lived as his rigid meat impaled my
sloppy wet pussy. It had been a few weeks and the fat cock with all its' welts
immediately brought me to orgasm after orgasm. I wished it was fatter and
longer. I wanted it inside of my uterus. Trudy stood up, turned around and
smashed her tiny pussy hard on to Bill's face, grinding her clit on his tongue
and sliding her asshole over his nose. We leaned towards each other and locked
our open mouths, tongues entwined, hands seeking nipples as we came and came
in mind-blowing orgasms. Sated, we collapsed over Bill, our pussies swollen
from excitement. We laid there for quite a while, our breathing and heart rate
slowly returning to normal. Whew, that was a great way to start the day. I
told Bill to clean the dungeon, pack some wrist and ankle cuffs, rubber
donuts, 2 floggers and high heels for both of us. He was to get dressed in
shorts, t-shirt and hiking boots when he came upstairs. I had a plan for a fun
afternoon. With that, Trudy and I went to take a shower and get dressed for
our afternoon with Bill outdoors. I told her my idea when we got out of
earshot and she loved it. We rinsed off quickly and were getting dressed when
Bill came in, ready to go. We were both in short shorts, halter tops and
hiking boots. Amber's clothes and shoes fit her reasonably well and she looked
so cute. We packed a very light lunch and I told Bill our plans for the
afternoon. I had, unknown to him, found a small clearing in the woods about
1/2 mile from the cabin. I had put eyebolts in 2 trees and cleaned all the
brush and limbs around them. It was to be his outdoor torture garden.
We locked up the cabin and headed for the woods on the other side of the pond.
We found the small trail I was looking for and, after about a 10 minute walk,
came to the clearing. I told Bill to remove his shorts and t-shirt. He didn't
have any underwear on. I'd thrown all of it away months ago. We put the cuffs
on him and spread-eagled him to the eyebolts I had put in the 2 trees. We
spread his legs as far as they would go but left his arms a bit looser but
tight enough that he couldn't protect himself from whatever we would do to
him. I slipped a handful of rubber donuts around his swollen ballsac, picked
up one of the floggers and handed the other one to Trudy. She had told me that
she had always fantasized about whipping a helpless man. I had never given it
much thought but, now that we had him strung up, I was looking forward to
striping him with the whip. Trudy went first and she had him flinching from
the first blow. I followed and we soon had a nice rythym going as we started
at his shoulders and worked our way down his back to his ass and thighs. The
real fun started when we started on his front side. His chest and stomach
quickly turned bright red with welts and his thighs were striped from our
blows. The grand finale was our attack on his defenseless cock and balls with
our whistling whips. He tried so hard to dodge our floggers but there was no
place to hide. His entire groin was red and inflamed from our whipping. Damn,
we were both sweating. This was a lot of work. I pulled out a joint and we all
shared it. Bill needed something for the pain, and the pain to come. I saved
the roach for later and we took off our hiking boots and slipped on our
classic pumps. Bill knew a ball kicking session was coming and gave me one of
his pleading looks. I pulled out a scarf and tied it over his eyes. We took
our time kicking his swollen nuts. They were so big by now that they were
pretty hard to miss. It was fun to do with the blindfold on him. We might kick
him every few seconds, then wait a minute or two before the next one. He never
knew when it was coming. We tired of the woods and decided to go back to the
cabin and take a nap before tonight's session. Trudy asked if we could drop
her off at her car and she'd follow us back. Worked for us.
After dropping her off I asked Bill what he thought about asking Trudy to live
with us. She would be a lot closer to school and she'd told me that she hated
living with her parents. She could use the guest bedroom and she would be
company for me on the nights he stayed at his place. Besides, she was so cute
and so sadistic and so kinky. She'd be fun to have around for our sessions. He
said it was a great idea and what guy wouldn't want a sexy 18 year old, that
looked 13, torturing his balls? As soon as she walked in the cabin, I popped
the question. She looked real serious for a minute, then smiled and said that
is the best offer she'd ever had. She would tell her folks tomorrow and move
her stuff that weekend. We were thrilled and so was she. We all got naked and
laid down in bed for a nice nap.
When we awoke, Bill was already in the kitchen fixing us a late lunch. Trudy
and I were cuddling in our sleep and her little hand was cupping my shaved
pussy. I slid my tongue in her mouth and explored the warm inside. She opened
her eyes, smiled at me and took one of my erect nipples in her mouth. What a
great way to wake up. She told me she was so excited to be moving in with us.
She wanted to know how much access I would give her to Bill and the dungeon
and what would the limits be? I told her that, for the first month, I would be
with her most of the time we played with Bill and she would easily figure out
the limits that we're at now. She could, of course, use him anytime to
pleasure her pussy and ass. She said that she appreciated the guest bedroom
and would keep her stuff in there but she'd like to sleep with us. Of course
she could do that and she would be a great bed partner on those nights Bill
wasn't here. Bill yelled and said the food was on the table. We went out to
see what he'd fixed. Yummy, spaghetti with mushrooms. We all dove in.
After we ate, we jumped in the car and headed for the farm store. We needed
some of the long vinyl gloves, elastrator bands and another elastrator. Trudy
found a great tool that farmers used on horses. You fit their lower lip in it
and then tightened it down with an eyebolt-type screw. It would work perfect
on Bill's balls and you could either lead him around with it or attach
weights. I loved the farm store.
When we got back to the cabin, I gave Trudy the combination and a spare set of
keys to the dungeon and cabin. She was tickled. I sent Bill down to irrigate
his colon and then get in the gyno chair. After he left, Trudy said she wanted
to stretch his balls out really far with the weights and then torture them.
She also wanted to try to put her foot in his ass. I told her we'd never done
a lot of ball stretching but he had taken 50 pounds once and they really had
gotten long. I didn't know about getting her foot in his asshole but I'd love
to see her try. We both laughed at our plans as we got dressed for the
session. Bill had told me to order Trudy whatever shoes and outfits she wanted
and we were going to do that later this evening. She gave him a big hug when I
told her. I'd make sure she picked out lots of schoolgirl type outfits. I
loved that she looked like a 13 year old girl. She decided to wear a short
plaid wrap skirt, a sheer white blouse, unbuttoned to the waist and 4 inch
heels with a pair of sheer, crotchless, white pantyhose. I opted for my
fishnet thigh highs in red, a red vinyl dress, very low cut and red patent
classic pumps with straps. We looked like a kinky mother/daughter on the first
day of high school. Bill gave us a long wolf whistle when we came out of the
closet. We did look good and we were both in the mood to play hard with him.
First thing was to secure him tightly into the gyno chair, making sure he
couldn't wiggle an inch. Next, I pulled out his tampon and snapped an
elastrator band on his swollen testicles. Over that I fixed a leather band
with eyelets and tightened it as tight as I could pull, right over the top of
the elastrator band. It had a d-ring, which I positioned at the top of his
ballsac. His cock was dripping precum already. Trudy stuck her finger in his
peehole, sinking it all the way to her third knuckle, pulled it out and made
him lick it off while she viciously twisted his nipples with her other hand.
She was really in the mood. I attached the rope coming out of the pulley in
the ceiling to the d-ring and put 20 pounds on it, just to get him started.
His balls immediately snapped upright and stretched out 5 to 6 inches. Trudy
looked at me and smiled. She moved between Bill's legs, pulled on a long vinyl
glove, put some lube on it and started fucking his ass with her arm. She
quickly got it in past her elbow and started pistoning back and forth, going
deeper with each stroke. Meanwhile, I had added 10 more pounds to his balls
and they got a little longer. He was moaning but I could tell he was enjoying
it, even though it was a little painful. Trudy put her other hand in his ass,
first smearing some lube on it from the excess around his crotch. It slid in
easily until she got to the elbow. After considerable pushing, it popped in
and she started a slow fucking motion with both arms inside of his distended
colon. It was very erotic to watch her do it. Those thin, teenage arms
appearing and disappearing in Bill's ass was almost hypnotic. I added another
10 pounds and his balls pulled out a little more. 40 pounds and more to come.
Trudy pulled her arms out of his ass and pulled the gloves off. She kicked off
one of her high heels and stripped off her nylon, then generously lubed up her
dainty foot. She leaned back and positioned her toes at the entrance to Bill's
ass. Slowly, her foot slid into his ass. The fluid was dripping out of my
pussy as I watched. She got to the heel and, with a quick shove, it popped
past his sphincter and her leg was now firmly inside of his ass. Damn, this
was too hot. She was nearly to her knee and that seemed to be the end. She was
methodically shoving her leg into him but it wouldn't go past the knobby part
of her knee. I added 10 more pounds to his taut balls and they responded by
getting a little bit longer. They must have been close to 9-10 inches now. The
ballsac was all purple and shiny. His cock was hard and the precum was flowing
out of his dilated peehole. I grabbed ahold of Trudy’s thigh and started
pushing. Bill was moaning loudly and about half of her knee was in his ass. I
slathered a bunch of lube on her knee and thigh. We both pushed. Wow……it
popped in. I couldn’t believe it and neither could she, or Bill. His eyes
looked like sunny side up eggs. Trudy had her knee and part of her thigh
inside of Bill’s ass. It was so erotic to see her slowly pumping it in and
out. His asshole was never going to be the same. She needed help getting her
leg out of his ass and I pulled her backward as she was extricating herself
from his butt. It was almost funny to watch. She hobbled towards the bathroom
to clean off her leg. While she was gone, I brought over another 50 pounds of
weights for his balls. His dick was still hard, even though his asshole was so
dilated that I could see 6-8 inches inside of it. I could put my hand in it
with no lube at all and I was barely touching the sides. How cool was that? I
grabbed his hard dick with my right hand and jammed the middle finger of my
left hand into his peehole. No resistance at all. I went all the way to my
last knuckle. I wished my fingers were longer. I tried getting two of them in
there but my fingers were a lot bigger than Trudy’s and I just couldn’t get it
done. I did put a couple of mean alligator clips on his nipples. They always
brought tears to his eyes and I liked seeing that.
Trudy returned, all refreshed and looking cute as a button. Hard to believe
that this cute little teenager was such a sadistic bitch. First thing she did
was add another 10 pounds to Bill’s balls. He really moaned. They had never
had this much weight on them and they were close to being stretched 12 inches.
She listened to him for a couple of minutes, all the time squeezing the
alligator clamps on his nipples, before she put another 10 pounds on. 70
pounds total were stretching his ballsac and his swollen testicles. They were
really tight and well over 12 inches now. She started slapping them, softly at
first, then harder and harder. I thought we might have to gag him, he was
getting so loud. She balled up her little fist and punched his swollen
ballsac. It was making me so horny, just watching her torture him, that my
pussy was literally leaking arousal juices. She paid no attention to his moans
and cries, she just kept on punching his balls. After 5 minutes or so, she
added another 10 pound weight. 80 pounds of weight was relentlessly pulling on
his balls, stretching them until the skin looked almost translucent. She
picked up two of the 1 inch dowel rods, handed one to me and we both started
beating his balls. She was beating the right testicle and I was beating the
left one. We got into a rhythm of sorts and, like a metronome, we were
thudding the heavy wood rods on his exposed, swollen, defenseless testicles.
It was such a power trip. He begged us to stop. We did for just a minute while
Trudy attached another 10 pound weight to the bar. I couldn’t believe they
didn’t just rip off but maybe she was right and we’d get 100 pounds pulling on
his nuts. They must have been stretched at least 15-16 inches by now. It was
so awesome to look at. I was loving it and I could tell Trudy was going nuts.
Her eyes were all glazed over. We looked at each other and smiled like little
kids in a candy store with a credit card. We swapped out the dowel rods for a
pair of rubber mallets and started our rhythmic pounding of his balls. He was
finally making so much noise that I stuffed a used pair of thigh highs in his
mouth and put duct tape over it. That at least muffled the sound. We decided
to smoke a joint before she added the last 10 pounds. Bill quieted down when
we weren’t beating his nuts. The weed was some really good stuff and we got a
great buzz going. I gave Bill a few shotguns up his nose and even he mellowed
out a little. We finished the joint and Trudy made a big production of hanging
the last 10 pounds of weight. I thought it might be the straw that broke the
camel’s back but all it did was elicit a huge groan from Bill and add another
inch or two to the distance his balls were stretched out. It was amazing. They
must have been close to 18 inches and, as the weight kept pulling, the
distance kept increasing. I’d never thought about having low-hanging balls
but, as I thought about it now, it sounded pretty neat. We let him lay there
for a few minutes while we picked out 200 needles. I was in a sexual frenzy
now and wanted to really do some nasty things to his balls. I wanted them out
of their little bag so I could really play with them. I knew it was going to
happen someday. I needed to call Dr. Nancy and set something up. Every time I
got this worked up, I wanted to do it but needed some expertise.
Bill’s balls were so stretched out that we didn’t have to sit down or bend
over to put needles in them. They were almost at eye level, in fact, for Trudy
they were at eye level. We had picked out a selection of of 1 & ˝ inch, 2 inch
and 3 & ˝ inch needles, 25 and 27 gauge. I figured the combination of being
severely stretched and having needles put in would cause him some wonderful
pain. I almost took the gag out but I wasn’t up for listening to the noise
right now. It was a lot harder to get a needle in than usual. We even bent a
few of them and he really moaned when we continued to stick them in. It must
be because the balls were so compacted by the continual stretching that the
meat was denser and therefore harder to penetrate. That was all right. It just
meant that it would take us longer to get all 200 in him and, if the meat of
his testicle was denser, I would guess that the nerves were also. How nice for
us. We spent over an hour inserting our needles into Bill’s tortured
testicles. We would do them at the same time, very slowly, about one every 45
seconds or so, and we’d try to meet in the middle when we each had a long
needle. We only succeeded a few times but the decibel level of his moans would
increase considerably. We would smile at each other every time we did it.
After about the 15th needle, my pussy started feeling the pleasure waves
building in it and, from about the 25th needle to the last one, I was having
one orgasm after another. I could tell Trudy was having the exact same
experience. Her eyes were glazed over, her lips were parted and she looked
like she was in a trance. I’m sure I looked the same. We helped Bill up and he
walked, spread legged, over to the bench where we secured his wrists and
ankles. Trudy laid his needle filled balls on the bench. They were still
stretched out a good 12 inches. I loved the look. We’d be doing a lot more
stretching of his balls in the future. I wondered if we could get them to hang
18 inches or more if we really worked at it? I’d have to give Dr. Nancy a
call. She’d probably know what the limits were. Trudy said we needed to find a
way to suspend him from the ceiling, face down, with his balls hanging about
head high. We could punch hell out of them as they swung back and forth. I
told her that it was not a big deal to suspend him. We’d have it figured out
by next week. We had plenty of pulleys and winches to do the job. It did sound
like fun. I had a few ideas on how to do it for maximum access.
The bands had been on his balls for over 2 hours by now and they were really
turning all sorts of pretty shades of blue and purple. This was my favorite
time. One of us would be sitting on Bill’s face having her pussy and ass
pleasured while the other was torturing his cock and balls. The one sitting on
his face was responsible for tormenting his nipples. The idea was to keep him
in constant pain while we were in constant pleasure. In my mind, and Trudy’s,
that was exactly how it was always supposed to be. His pain and suffering was
our pleasure.
It was my turn to go first, I straddled Bill’s open mouth, spread my ample ass
cheeks and slowly lowered myself onto his pointed tongue. The feeling of his
tongue penetrating my sphincter and invading my canal was always so good and
so erotic. He slowly stroked his tongue in and out, massaging my puckered
asshole with his hot, wet organ. In just moments the orgasms started. I moved
my swollen pussy over his face and he tongue fucked my dripping love hole. I
moved slightly and he sucked my clit into his mouth and flicked his tongue
over it as more orgasms coursed through my blood engorged pussy. At the same
time, Trudy was pulling needles partially out, nearly to the end, and then
shoving them back in at different angles. Her other hand was shoving two of
her small fingers into his peehole and finger fucking his cock. His precum was
running out of his dick and coating her fingers and his hard shaft. His moans
were vibrating inside of my groin, causing more waves of pleasure inside my
pussy. I finally could stand no more. My pussy was so sensitive that it felt
like it was on fire. Trudy’s turn on his face. She quickly mounted him and
started sliding her pussy and ass back and forth across his flicking tongue.
Her hands were like talons on his puffy nipples, twisting and pinching them,
eliciting loud moans and tears flowing down his cheeks. I grabbed one of the
small rubber mallets off the cart and started hitting his balls. I was
pounding the needles into the core of his testicles. I took one of the big
dowel rods and started beating his hard cock. It was standing straight up and
I was beating the sides as hard as I could. The precum was flying all over his
belly, thighs and balls. I was still cumming in waves. Trudy was in total
ecstasy and had firmly planted her ass over his mouth. I knew his tongue was
as far into her asshole as he could push it. She was moaning like a sick
puppy. Every time she would cum, her nipples would get hard as little marbles
and her entire body would vibrate. Soon, it was a continuous moaning and
shaking as orgasmic lust took over her body. His nipples were bright red and a
yellowish fluid was leaking out of them. If this wasn’t heaven on earth, I
don’t know what was. We both finally collapsed in a heap. Totally spent from
our wild orgasms. Bill’s cock was still hard but he was going to have to wait
to cum. I just couldn’t do it right now. We’d clean him up, take the needles
out and the bands off his balls and let him have one then, maybe.
It took 30 minutes to clean everything up and, by then, we were all feeling a
little better. He was still hard and Trudy and I decided to give him a nice,
slow orgasm. I put an elastrator band on his cock, Trudy shoved one of the
supersize tampons in him and we took turns stroking his cock. As he got closer
to cumming, Trudy stood over his face so he could look up at her darling
little pussy and catch the strands of girl goo that were still leaking from
her. That’s all it took. I could feel the orgasm building in his cock. It
finally boiled up from his prostate and then, once again, found it had no
place to go. I loved putting my fingers below the band and feel the pulsations
as the sperm tried to escape. He must have been super horny because his orgasm
lasted for at least 10 minutes. The pulses were much stronger than normal and
he never took his eyes off of Trudy’s pussy. Whew, what a great session. Plus,
Bill’s balls were still hanging way down, at least 10 inches, maybe 12. I knew
they would go back up but with a lot of training I bet we could keep them
long. We cleaned him off, locked up the dungeon and decided to go out to eat.
While we were having dinner, Trudy said she had a little something she wanted
to tell us. It seems as though she had been talking to Amber, my oldest, and
had told her about moving in with us. Amber was pretty bright and wanted to
know exactly what was going on. Trudy said she didn’t exactly tell her what
was going on but did tell her that it had something to do with playing with
Bill. Amber said she already had figured that out. She told Trudy that she had
suspected Bill was mom’s slave and plaything a long time ago. Now, she was
interested in how Trudy fit into the whole thing. Were we both playing with
Bill? What were we doing to him? Did this have something to do with the
basement at mom’s new place that you couldn’t find an entrance to get in?
Trudy said that Amber had told her that she had always wanted to play with
Bill. She said she had a bit of a mean streak, inherited from guess who, and
would love to practice it on him. Trudy told her that she would have to get
any more information from me. She was getting her first leave from the Air
Force, 2 whole weeks, in about a month and was planning on coming home. I told
Trudy that it wasn’t a big deal and I’d give Amber a call as soon as we got
home. In reality, the thought of having my daughter in on our play was very
exciting to me. That would be so kinky and so fucking erotic. Three women
torturing poor Bill, one of them my daughter, might be more than his heart
could take. He just smiled at both of us and took another big bite of his
steak. It looked like his puffy nipples got a little harder. He was sicker
than me.
When we arrived at the cabin, I told Bill and Trudy that I was going to call
Amber from the porch and they could put a movie on if they wanted while I
explained as much as I could to her. She answered on the 2nd ring and said she
wondered how long it would take me to call her after I found out that her and
Trudy had been talking. We both chuckled about that. I asked if she could talk
for a while because this would take some explaining. She said she was all
ears. I just started rambling about how all this got started and what it had
progressed to now. I told her about finding Trudy by posting on Craigslist.
She asked for specifics and I told her about all the things we did to Bill. I
told her all about the dungeon and how cool it was. She wanted to know if Bill
was my slave and I was his Mistress. I told her it was way more complicated
than that. Over a period of time, we had found out that we have interests that
complimented each other. I told her that he was a sexual masochist and I had
discovered that I was very much a sexual sadist. I enjoyed torturing him but I
wasn’t into whippings or beatings unless it was to his cock and balls. She
laughed at that. I told her we didn’t do any of that “Yes Mistress” shit but I
was definitely in charge if it had anything to do with sex. Outside of that
realm, Bill was the man in charge. She wanted some specifics and I told her
about his nipples and what we’d done to them. She said she knew I’d done
something because it was hard not to notice how much they stuck out, more than
hers and she had very puffy nipples. I tried not to get too specific but,
staying more general, I told her about the needles in his balls, the enlarged
peehole we could stick our fingers in, how we had dilated his asshole so we
could stick our fists in him, the vasectomy Dr. Nancy had performed and I also
told her how we had stretched his balls out today during our session. She
wanted to know what all Trudy had done and I told her that she’d done
everything we had just discussed. She asked more about the dungeon but I told
her that she’d have to see it to believe it. We talked for over an hour and
she told me that she had always had these urges to hurt men in their cocks and
balls. In high school she had kicked one of the football players, who was
teasing her, right in his nuts and he fell down holding them and groaning. She
said it had given her a great feeling in her crotch and she’d told Trudy about
it and she said that she’d love to kick all guys in their nuts. She never
mentioned anything about her and Trudy having girl/girl sex and I didn’t bring
it up. She said she’d be coming home on leave in a little less than a month
and she was now planning on spending a lot of time with me, Bill and Trudy. I
told her it was pretty kinky and she told me that she was pretty kinky and I’d
find that out in a month. I asked if her sister, Carla, was coming home on
leave also and she said that she wasn’t. She was going right on to her next
school and would be home around Christmas. She also told me that she was going
to be based at Scott Air Force Base, Illinois, for her permanent duty station
and would possibly be able to get home at least once a month. It was only
about 250 miles from here and, if this was as much fun as she thought it was
going to be, she’d make it home twice a month. They said she would get two,
three-day passes a month. We did the “I love you’s” and the “see you soons”
before I hung up. I was looking forward to her coming home. I hadn’t seen her
in over 4 months, plus the absolute kinky idea of playing side by side with
her had my pussy dripping juices.
I went in and told Bill and Trudy about the conversation. They both got very
excited and couldn’t wait for the month to pass. Trudy said I’d find out that
Amber was a very kinky little girl. I told her I was planning on it. Bill had
also come up with a design for hoisting him up with unlimited access to his
cock, balls and nipples. It consisted of a piece of ˝ inch marine plywood with
holes for his cock and balls and cutouts for his nipples to stick through. He
would cover it in black leather and affix eyebolts at each corner with a chain
attached to each one, then they would all come together about 3 feet above the
plywood. We could put it under one of the pulleys and operate it with the
electric hoist. His arms and legs would be secured to the corners and his toys
would be available for us to play with. We looked at his sketches, made a
couple of small changes and told him to get it built. He said it would be done
in a couple of days.
I went to bed early. I was just bone tired and wanted to get a good night’s
sleep. They said they were going to watch a movie on HBO. I came back down 20
minutes later to get a bottle of water and Bill had his head in Trudy’s lap,
suckling on her sweet little nipple. Her hand was in his lap, two fingers
inside of his peehole, slowly finger fucking him. She winked at me and smiled.
I winked and smiled back.
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Subsets and Splits