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Tamerlane's Boys 23 | GAY, WARNING, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION, MINOR | Vissarion somehow manages to put himself in peril again, whilst Arman visits another religious community and the young Armenian’s new squire meets sinister strangers. | ` TAMERLANE’S BOYS `
By Pueros
Chapter 23 – Zoroastrians
(Shiraz, Persia, September 1393)
Vissarion, 16 but looking at least a couple of years younger, was attending
his first council as one of Tamerlane’s official advisers, as opposed to being
merely one of the conqueror’s pretty boy cup-bearers. The latter function was
currently being proficiently and picturesquely fulfilled by Nicolai and Rezan,
respectively 12 and 10 years old and with both delectable young figures
resplendent in their rich colourful turbans and silk shirts and baggy
trousers, neatly complemented by ornate slippers, curved upwards at the toe.
Nicolai’s younger brother, Yaroslav, currently safe elsewhere and dressed in
Muscovy style, had still not found a function in life. It was too dangerous to
attempt to return the 8 years old to his family, who were normally resident in
Serpukhov, a city to the south of Moscow, because the boy’s father was the
local appanage prince. The journey would have entailed highly precarious
passage through the lands of the Mongol Golden Horde, led by Toqtamish.
Yaroslav was instead just tagging along with Tamerlane’s rightly feared army
in the company of his older brother and his friends, amongst whom the dreaded
57 years old conqueror was numbered. The 8 years old was biding his time until
circumstances permitted him to return safely to Rus.
No-one knew when this might be but everyone assumed that the appropriate
situation would arise when Tamerlane and Toqtamish crossed swords again, which
was considered by most to be inevitable. Meanwhile, Yaroslav waited,
relatively content with his present company and associated interesting
travels, despite apparently missing his parents, especially his mother, and
his siblings more than Nicolai, who had no intention of returning to his
homeland, apart from rare visits to see his family.
Nicolai’s attitude was caused by two factors. First, the boy found his current
adventurous life and marvellous friends respectively too exciting and too
delightful to abandon, even for family. Second, as a eunuch, the 12 years old
now felt that he had no future in Rus, where attitudes to gelded males might
actually also make existence unpleasant.
Meanwhile, Teimuraz, was also finding his present life, as squire and
occasional bedfellow of Arman, too agreeable to want to move, especially as he
was still beholden to his youthful master for his salvation from street
destitution. The 10 year-old’s attitude was fortified by now being treated by
the young Armenian and his friends, including Tamerlane, as if he was a member
of an extended regal family rather than a lowly servant.
In fact, as Teimuraz grew older, he began to appreciate that Tamerlane and his
boys were, for all intents and purposes, a close-knit family group. The young
Georgian squire also began to feel very happy at, and proud of, his inclusion
in the quasi-familial assemblage.
Vissarion himself was also currently very happy and proud. However, the young
Georgian’s present emotions stemmed from acting for the first time as a formal
adviser on Tamerlane’s large council, members of which were now all sitting,
with the conqueror, cross-legged in their leader’s large tent, around a low
table. The latter was covered with bowls of exotic fruit and other snack
delicacies.
The counsellors, amongst whom the beautiful, but diminutively boyish, young
Vissarion appeared rather incongruous until he spoke, had all been given
golden goblets by the efficient Nicolai and Rezan. Only the young Georgian
newcomer rejected local wine for the filling of the precious vessels, with the
16 years old instead preferring fruit juice.
Vissarion’s attitude was not a critical reflection on the wine produced at the
time in the environs of the Persian city of Shiraz because the local
viniculture was renowned for excellent quality. The young Georgian’s restraint
stemmed instead from the fact that he had determined to remain a lifelong
teetotaler, never wanting his wise mind befuddled by alcohol. This objective
did not arise because of ascetic sanctimoniousness, but rather because the 16
years old reasoned that his mental processes were already too often disturbed
by love and associated sex.
Shiraz had been sacked by Tamerlane five years earlier but never formally
absorbed into his domains. However, given continued unrest in Persia, the
conqueror had decided to rectify this situation and so had returned once more
to demand the city’s permanent submission.
Much of Shiraz had been destroyed, and many of the city’s people killed,
during Tamerlane’s last visit because the citizenry had tried to defy the
conqueror. In fact, the only reason the metropolis was not completely
levelled, as many other resistant communities had been, especially the double-
crossing rebellious Isfahan, was because of the existence of one resident.
Shiraz is picturesquely situated [over 200 modern miles] south of Isfahan in a
pleasant climate, on a high plain surrounded by the Zagros Mountains. As well
as viniculture, the fertile location is conducive to growing a number of other
agricultural products, such as cereals and sugar beet. Textiles and rugs
remain to this day other famed local products. The city, at times the Persian
capital, was also the birthplace of two renowned Muslim poets, Sadi, who lived
1184 to 1291, and Hafiz, who was still alive, albeit a very old man, when
Tamerlane last visited.
Tamerlane, although by no means a devout Muslim himself, was interested in
Hafiz’s works, not least because some appeared to be highly critical of the
conqueror, and so he had spared Shiraz complete devastation in return for a
meeting with the great poet and other local men of learning. The conqueror
wanted the writer to explain himself, intending to secure either a retraction
of any intended criticisms or the old man’s head.
Tamerlane knew that he would have to go about the latter task carefully, as he
did not want to upset fellow Muslims, especially similar Islamic scholars and
writers who could cause internal religious strife within his growing Empire.
However, the conqueror believed that, if necessary, he could organise an
acceptable excuse to silence the aged poet through decapitation.
Tamerlane prepared for this eventuality by having his own Islamic scholars
analyse Hafiz’s works to identify controversial passages, which might be used
against the poet to discredit him in the Muslim world. They eventually
provided the conqueror with a number of contentious phrases that could be
interpreted as blasphemous.
In the event, recording the meeting with Hafiz was one of Vissarion’s first
scriptural commissions for his master, when the beautiful young Georgian was
just 11 years old but had recently become capably literate in Tamerlane’s
Turkish dialect. The conqueror had never seen the importance for himself of
being able to read or write, especially when his beautiful boys could perform
such tasks for him.
(Shiraz, Persia, over 5 years previously, early 1388)
Vissarion’s account, which was inscribed on parchment in his very neat
handwriting and has survived into modern times, begins with Tamerlane formally
welcoming Hafiz, or more correctly Shams al-Din Muhammad Shirazi, to his tent
in his army’s vast encampment outside Shiraz. In essence, the subsequent
discussion, after the preliminary formalities, including the supply of fruit
juice to the principal guest by the young Georgian, centred on the poet’s
defence against allegations that his works were not only libelous towards the
mighty conqueror but also blasphemous in disgracing the Almighty.
Vissarion accurately recorded for posterity that, at that time, Hafiz was
advanced in age, possessing a bent body and very weak eyes. Tamerlane started
his diplomatic prosecution by concentrating first on the accusations of
blasphemy, not wanting to put his own personal grievances before those of God.
The conqueror began by asking the poet “Did you compose the verse that
reads….” The young Georgian eunuch, in his high boyish tones, then completed
the question, being the one capable of reading the relevant quotation from a
scroll. “‘Sakinan-i haram-i sitr-u 'afaf-i malakut ba-man-i rah nishin bada-yi
mastana zadand’?” the 11 year old said.
Vissarion wrote that Hafiz responded “O Amir, my eyes are weak, and I cannot
see you properly but I can hear well your voice, and that of your young
servant. Yes, I composed that poem.”
Tamerlane responded “You have uttered blasphemy in this poem, because you have
spoken of God as if He has a haram-khanah [harem]! Besides this sacrilege you
also have disgraced the Almighty by saying that His women, having abandoned
His harem, have joined you on the side of the road in drinking and revelry.”
Hafiz answered “O Amir, there is nothing that is blasphemous in what I have
said, neither have I disgraced the Almighty. In the first misra' of this bayt,
I have talked about ‘sakinan-i haram-i sitr-u 'afaf-i malakut’. The two words
‘sitr’ and ‘'afaf’ indicate that, by a harem for God, I am not referring to an
ordinary harem but rather I am referring to a mysterious harem. I am talking
about a harem the mystery of which is not known, one in which only chastity
rules. Besides, I have not said that there are women in the harem of God. In
fact, I have not made any mention of women. I have talked about the ‘sakinan-i
haram’ [residents of the harem] and not the ‘zanha-yi haram’ [women of the
harem]. I have made no reference to a haram-khanah in a secular sense. I have
talked about a haram as a place that is so holy no stranger can gain entrance.
I composed this poem, on a midnight in spring. The weather was pleasant and I
could smell the scent of the flowers in the air. My heart was filled with
‘wajd’ [ecstasy] and I could hear the nightingales sing. At the time of the
composition of this poem, I was so engrossed in ecstasy and joy that I felt
that I was participating in the very existence of the universe. It was as if
heavenly angels were living within me, and I was transformed into an angel. It
was under the influence of this moment of wajd that I composed this verse.”
A frustrated Tamerlane, clearly defeated on the opening topic, then changed
subject by asking “Why in your second misra' did the ‘sakinan-i haram-i sitr-u
'afaf-i malakut’, or, as you put it, the ‘heavenly angels’, drink wine with
you? You well know that drinking wine is forbidden!” With this question, the
conqueror was actually being very hypocritical because he regularly personally
indulged in the product of the grape.
Hafiz replied “O Amir, drinking wine is a Sufic idiom. It does not refer to
drinking wine in the general sense. It alludes to the acquisition of knowledge
from the perfect ones. However, in the same way that ordinary wine, the
drinking of which is not allowed, causes intoxication, the acquisition of
knowledge from the initiate also induces a similar drunkenness for the seeker.
For the Sufi, the may-khanah [tavern] is a place where this type of wine is
used. The tavern is a place where one acquires knowledge of the unknown. In
that spring midnight, I was so overwhelmed by ecstasy that I felt the presence
of heavenly angels as they talked with me. It was as if they were disclosing
the secrets of creation to me. Thus, when I say that they were drinking wine
with me, I am merely expressing my feelings at that moment.”
Tamerlane now enquired “What were the secrets that they told you?” Hafiz
advised “O Amir, during that late night, I imagined that the heavenly angels
were disclosing the secrets of the universe to me. However, that was merely a
feeling invented by my imagination and, because it was impossible for me to
verbalise the images that crossed my mind, I versified those feelings. Every
'arif [mystic], when he is immersed in deep thought, experiences certain
feelings that he cannot verbalize, and some of these feelings are
inexplicable. One cannot describe these feelings in words, be it in poetry or
in prose, because one can describe only such senses as coldness, softness and
roughness. When discussing these sensations, people can easily understand what
is being said. However, inner and metaphysical feelings are not describable in
the same way. If we attempt to describe these, our very intent will remain a
question for the hearer. I think that anyone, even one who is not an 'arif,
upon hearing late in the night the singing of the nightingale, and the sound
of the adhan [call to prayer], at that time of the night, when the air is
redolent with the scent of flowers, experiences certain feelings that he
cannot put into words. This is why, at that time, I could not describe what
those imaginary angels were telling me and this is why now I cannot express
what the secrets that they were discussing with me were. Otherwise, I would
have put all that, too, into verse.”
It was already evident to the young Vissarion that Hafiz was too clever to be
trapped into self-incrimination, either for blasphemy or libel, and so it
proved. Fortunately, Tamerlane did not become angry in frustration at his
inability to pin a successful charge on the poet. Instead, as he heard the old
man’s ingenious, eloquent and profoundly earnest defensive arguments, the
dreaded conqueror’s original chagrin at the Muslim scholar’s accusatory works
became subsumed by admiration for the person who had formulated them.
Tamerlane’s fundamental change in attitude occurred despite recognising that
Hafiz would undoubtedly continue, for as long as he could, to exercise a right
to free speech to be critical of the conqueror. However, Vissarion helped to
overcome any residual acrimonious and potentially fatal reservations, to which
his master might have clung in respect of the poet, to aid the transformation.
As the straight-faced Hafiz had proceeded with his various defensive verbal
acrobatics, Tamerlane began to hear muffled chuckles coming from the direction
of his beautiful young eunuch. This then induced the conqueror to glance
frequently towards Vissarion, who was now to display a broad grin on his
sublime face throughout the remainder of the debate. The disarmingly sweet
smile would also occasionally be accompanied by a titter whenever the old poet
devised a particularly adroit retort to accusations, despite the boy’s
attempts to subdue what might be construed as rude disrespect, although the
chortles actually conveyed the opposite.
In response, Tamerlane’s anger at Hafiz collapsed and he now only prolonged
his meeting with the great poet to enjoy, in tandem with Vissarion, more of
the old man’s nuncupative ingenuity. By the eventual end of the meeting, the
conqueror’s admiring smirk was as broad as that of his gorgeous young
catamite.
Accordingly, Tamerlane and Hafiz departed on good terms, with the former now
generously agreeing to cause no more harm to Shiraz and accepting that he
would simply have to tolerate occasional poetic reproach by the latter. It was
one of the first times since the destruction of Isfahan that the dreaded
conqueror’s originally dark intentions were to be influenced for the better by
one of his boys. It foreboded the future and was also a development that had
not gone unnoticed by the aged guest.
Vissarion had the dutiful responsibility to guide Hafiz out of Tamerlane’s
tent, after the two men had made their now genuinely respectful farewells.
Before the old poet advanced to the waiting horse-drawn wagon, which would
take him back to Shiraz, he turned to the young Georgian and said “Thank you,
boy, not only for your kindness in serving me with your master’s munificent
hospitality and recording our meeting, but also for saving my life!”
“What do you mean, sir?” enquired a puzzled Vissarion, who was unaware of the
role he had just played in changing Tamerlane’s attitude. “Oh, don’t you
know?” Hafiz asked rhetorically before advising, with a little sarcasm
intended to tease rather than insult, “I’m sure that my head and body would
have left your master’s tent separately if you hadn’t shown such friendly
regard for my responses to the conqueror’s questions!”
The bent, almost blind, old poet then shuffled off towards his wagon. He was
guided most of the way by some of his literary disciples, who rushed forward
to greet him. They had earlier fearfully accompanied their hero to this
potentially fatal rendezvous with the dreaded Tamerlane and had awaited his
re-emergence from the conqueror’s tent with due anxiety.
Later, one of these pupils returned to the huge encampment of Tamerlane’s army
to deliver a present from Hafiz to Vissarion. It was a scroll, inscribed with
one of the great poet’s greatest works.
Despite being a Christian, reading the scroll caused Vissarion to shed some
tears. When a concerned Arman, a very new acquaintance at that time, asked
“What’s wrong?”, the young Georgian answered “The words seem to reach into my
very soul!” The young Armenian could not verify the truth of his new friend’s
declaration, because he could not yet read the language concerned, and so
tried to show empathy instead by giving his fellow 11 years old a hug.
Hafiz died of natural causes soon afterwards and he was interred in Shiraz
within a splendid tomb, extant today.
The scroll given to Vissarion by Hafiz was to remain amongst the Georgian’s
closest possessions until the day that he too died, with the poet’s words
gripped in his left hand. His right hand was occupied by something else.
(Shiraz, Persia, over 5 years later, September 1393)
Tamerlane had been displeased that, on this second visit to a rebuilt Shiraz,
the gates of the city had not been opened to greet his arrival. Instead,
before being so obliging, the local princely ruler had despatched an emissary
to seek certain guarantees about the safety of his metropolis, his people and
himself, an order that did not necessarily reflect his priorities. This
request was now the first item on the agenda of the conqueror’s council
meeting.
Many of the advisers who spoke first appeared to Vissarion to be playing on
their leader’s clear anger at the apparent distrust of the local ruler,
evident by his unneeded solicitation. The young Georgian perceptively decided
that they were doing so for one of two motives. The first was simple
obsequiousness, whereby the counsellors concerned just agreed with Tamerlane’s
apparent attitude, whatever that might be, whilst the second was greed. After
all, it was the violent sacking of cities rather than their peaceful surrender
that led to most profit for the dreaded conqueror’s chief lieutenants.
“What do you think?” Tamerlane eventually asked of his newest and youngest
adviser, having already heard a number of unanimous opinions suggesting the
besieging, and subsequent pillaging and devastation, of Shiraz. Vissarion had
remained quiet so far whilst the others had made their cases for violent
action because of understandable reserve at attending his first council
amongst the many adults, either grizzled generals or long-serving officials.
However, the 16 years old now summoned up the courage to disagree with all of
the previous speakers.
“I understand,” the young eunuch propounded, in his high-pitched boyish voice,
“that an immediate assault on Shiraz is not advisable because much of our
specialist siege equipment, being so slow to transport, not only hasn’t yet
arrived here but won’t be here for many more days. I therefore suggest that,
given that we have the time and before we commit ourselves to any other
action, we should send a return emissary to advise the city’s prince that
Tamerlane gives no guarantees to any city. The conqueror’s treatment of any
metropolis will entirely depend upon its treatment of him.”
“I would ask the emissary also to appraise the local prince,” Vissarion
proceeded, “that Tamerlane already feels insulted by Shiraz and to ask the
local ruler whether he wants to compound this affront by continuing to
withhold the city’s hospitality from the conqueror. It is my humble opinion
that not only will the city gates soon be opened but also the reception
afforded to our master will be bounteous indeed.”
“I give this advice,” Vissarion added, with what he cleverly perceived would
be the clinching argument with Tamerlane, “whilst recognising that Shiraz is
the city of Hafiz and houses the tomb of the great writer, whom I know is
revered by our master. Despite our understandable annoyance at the local
prince’s impertinent attitude, I believe that we should temper our response,
if we can, out of respect for the late renowned poet.”
Tamerlane pondered Vissarion’s sage advice for a few moments before bursting
into laughter. However, the conqueror’s reaction was not one of insult at
puerile counsel but rather one of delight at receiving such mature, considered
and well-expressed wisdom.
As Tamerlane subsequently accepted Vissarion’s advice and declared that the
only other issue to be resolved in respect of the subject was the identity of
the emissary, many adult faces round the table furtively looked with fury at
the young eunuch. Many of those not in the conqueror’s closest inner circle
knew little about the intellectual capabilities of the young Georgian and
already resented the fact that someone, who looked little more than 14 years
old and was, in their prejudiced eyes, a mere bumboy, was amongst their
supposedly learned number. The fact that the catamite had now dashed their
hopes for a nice bit of highly profitable rape and pillage only reinforced
their resentment, which nevertheless was carefully disguised as no-one wanted
to anger the short-tempered conqueror by undiplomatically attacking his young
male whore.
Unfortunately for Vissarion, one of the most embittered counsellors was not
going to let the matter rest. This was the reason why the quick-thinking
general concerned, a middle-aged man by the name of Qazagh, nominated the
young Georgian to be the emissary to Shiraz, announcing that it was only right
that the purveyor of such wise counsel be given the honour of carrying out the
agreed policy. Although the beautiful 16 years old was delighted to agree,
Tamerlane was very unhappy with the suggestion, not wanting to endanger his
beloved young eunuch. However, the conqueror also appreciated that denying his
catamite the commission would be to demean him in front of the other
counsellors and so, with undisclosed reluctance, he agreed to the appointment.
Within a few hours, after the conclusion of his first council meeting,
Vissarion, escorted by his normal cavalry bodyguard, was riding on his
splendid steed towards Shiraz. The city was a good distance away because
Tamerlane had, as usual, sensibly encamped his forces beyond the range of
effective surprise excursions by cavalry from the metropolis, which was a
possibility despite the fact that no siege had commenced and negotiations
about submission were being undertaken.
Unfortunately for Vissarion and his mission, a lone horseman had already been
secretly despatched to Shiraz by Qazagh. The general’s aim was to nullify the
message and eliminate the messenger.
(Yadz, Persia, same time)
Yazd, [almost 200 modern miles] northeast of Shiraz across the Zagros
Mountains, is one of the oldest cities in the world. The metropolis, through
which Marco Polo once passed on his way to China, is located on the Silk Road,
at the edge of the Dash-e-Kavir desert.
Yazd has long been an important centre of Zoroastrianism, a gentle religion
that pre-dates most other faiths and which exerted significant influence on
Judaism, Christianity and Islam. Nevertheless, adherents were regularly
attacked and persecuted over the centuries by followers of other doctrines, so
much so that worshippers were sadly pitiful in number by Tamerlane’s time, a
situation that remains to this day.
Arman, in line with his perpetual interest to learn more about other faiths,
had sought and obtained Tamerlane’s permission to visit Yadz, an arduous
journey from Shiraz that took four days to complete in the company of his
squire and some of his cavalrymen. The young Muslim Armenian had great respect
for the other main religions of the known world, not least because he now
recognised the links between them all and firmly believed that they all sought
to serve, in their own way, the same God.
For example, Arman had concluded that Islam was just a development of
Christianity, which in turn had evolved from Judaism. The young Armenian now
wanted to see whether all three faiths actually owed their origins to more
ancient Zoroastrianism. However, the 16 years old knew that his visit to Yadz
had to be brief because his military duties necessitated a quick return to
Shiraz in case Tamerlane was forced to take that city by force.
Arman had taken the opportunity of the brief respite, afforded by the
negotiations between Tamerlane and Shiraz’s prince, over the terms of the
city’s submission, and the delay in arrival of the vital siege equipment, to
make his visit. The young Armenian’s decision to travel was aided by
appreciation of the fact that, even if the necessary assault apparatus arrived
and the conqueror resolved to attack the southern metropolis forthwith whilst
the youth was away, many days of preliminary technical manoeuverings would be
required before the fighting started. The 16 years old intended to return in
time for the latter. He might be a devout worshipper of a God but his beliefs
did not extend to wanting to fail in his duty to the conqueror or miss out on
exciting military action.
Arman received a marvellous welcome and excellent hospitality from Yadz’s
Zoroastrian community, who were very happy to tell the very friendly and
obviously interested young Muslim about their beliefs. The 16 years old soon
began to realise that Zoroastrianism was not only probably the oldest world
religion but also possibly had achieved more influence on mankind, directly
and indirectly, than any other single faith.
The faith was founded in Persia, sometime between 1500 and 1000 BC, by
Zarathushtra, known locally and in India as ‘Zarthosht’ and in Greek as
‘Zoroaster’. He preached monotheism, including beliefs relating to God and
Satan, heaven and hell, the soul, a saviour, resurrection and a final
judgment, in a land that then followed aboriginal polytheistic beliefs. He was
originally attacked for his teaching but finally won the support of the king,
with his creed eventually becoming the state religion of various Persian
empires until the 7th Century AD.
When Muslim Arabs invaded Persia in 650 AD, and converted most of the
population to Islam, some Zoroastrians fled to India. Most Zoroastrians are
now concentrated in this latter country in the modern era, although about
18,000, of the estimated 140,000 worldwide adherents, still reside in what is
now Iran, chiefly in Yazd, Kernan and Tehran.
The Zoroastrian holy book is called the ‘Avesta’, which includes the original
words of Zarathushtra, preserved in a series of five hymns, known as the
‘Gathas’. The latter represent the core text of the religion and are abstract
sacred poetry, directed towards the worship of the One God, understanding of
righteousness and cosmic order, promotion of social justice and individual
choice between good and evil. They propound a three-fold path, best summed up
in the motto of the faith, namely ‘Good thoughts, good words, good deeds!’
Arman was currently studying the Avesta in the comfortable home of a kind rich
Zoroastrian merchant, and in the present company of a young 10 years old named
Rashu. The pretty boy, an orphan and distant relative of the host, who was his
guardian, had been allocated as a de-facto servant to the young Georgian, to
ensure that the guest was afforded every consideration. The mutual language
spoken was Persian.
Arman was sitting crosslegged, under a shady tree in his host’s large exotic
garden, whilst he read the Avesta, with Rashu situated similarly nearby, ready
to fetch anything the young Georgian wanted or attempt to answer any questions
the 16 years old guest might wish to ask. Meanwhile, the visitor’s official
servant, his squire Teimuraz, was elsewhere.
The energetic Teimuraz did not want to study the Avesta quietly but wanted to
indulge in more adventurous activity. The 10 years old boy was certainly to
achieve his aim, after Arman had given him permission to practise his
horsemanship once more.
Teimuraz was aware that he was still far from being as proficient as Arman at
riding a horse and, as he felt that it was his duty as a squire to keep up
with his young master at all times, he took every opportunity to practise the
skill. The boy also currently believed that being on his steed, indulging in
this exhilarating pastime, was better than sitting reading a religious tome,
regardless of how worthy the latter might be.
Arman had told Teimuraz to take some of the cavalrymen as guards on his ride
with him and not to stray too far from Yadz. Naturally, as many active 10
years old boys, seeking fun and adventure, would have done in similar
circumstances, the young squire complied with neither command.
Accordingly, Teimuraz was currently riding alone, in the desert about five
modern miles away from Yadz, and close to the Silk Road as it headed east from
the city, when his horse once again managed to find a small hole in which to
stumble and become lame. The last time that similar had occurred, the boy had
ended up sharing a bed with Arman and Vissarion, whilst his very pleasant
smooth genitalia were pleasurably entertained by the young Armenian and
Georgian. Unfortunately for the 10 years old, on this occasion, he was to end
up somewhere far less pleasant, where his delightful sexual organs were to be
the focus of much less gratifying attention.
(Shiraz, Persia, same time)
Vissarion was allowed entrance through the huge sturdy wooden gates of Shiraz
on condition that the young emissary entered alone without his bodyguards. The
young Georgian’s protective cavalry were very reluctant to let their charge
comply. However, the 16 years old, confident of both his safety, within the
city’s walls, and the ultimate success of his diplomatic mission, eventually
persuaded his concerned men to let him go on without them.
The result was Vissarion’s immediate arrest and incarceration in a dingy
dungeon cell of the local prince’s internal citadel. The 16 years old did not
yet know, but Qazagh had not only compromised the young emissary’s mission but
also endangered his life.
(Silk Road, east of Yadz, Persia, same time)
As Teimuraz began his long walk back to Yadz along the Silk Road, with his
horse hobbling behind, he noticed a large caravan, of many covered wagons with
outriders, coming the other way. As the boy advanced towards the obviously
mercantile procession, he noticed that all of the men associated with the
convoy were dressed in a colourful manner he had not seen before. As the 10
years old came even closer, he then saw that the adults also sported unusual
facial features.
In fact, Teimuraz was about to encounter his first Chinese merchants.
Unfortunately for the boy, the traders were of the more unscrupulous variety.
By now, both Teimuraz and his steed were desperate for water in the desert
surrounds. Consequently, as they finally encountered the Chinese caravan, the
boy asked, in the best local Persian that he could muster, given that he had
only recently been introduced to the tongue, the merchant on the leading horse
if he could be supplied with a small amount of liquid refreshment.
This man obviously could not understand what Teimuraz was requesting, because
he summoned another rider whom he hoped could interpret the boy’s words.
Fortunately, this merchant did indeed know something of Persian, as he had
traded in this part of the world for decades.
As the requested water was fetched, the interpreter, whilst carefully eyeing
Teimuraz’s delectable slim form, currently covered by simple garb, suitable
for horse-riding but nevertheless well made from obviously expensive material,
asked the boy what he was doing alone, in this lonely inhospitable location.
The 10 years old, grateful to be given a leather canteen of water, was pleased
to answer, although, as it turned out, he was too truthful for his own good.
Teimuraz, graciously supplying his own horse first with water from his cupped
hands palms, despite his own intense thirst, described the circumstances of
his expedition from Yadz for the Chinese merchant. As the large dried tongue
of the boy’s steed eagerly lapped up the liquid from the 10 years old’s palms,
the young squire also bemoaned the fact that his master would worry about his
late return, especially as the youth did not really know where his servant had
gone riding.
Teimuraz wondered at first why this latter revelation induced a broad smile on
the interpreter’s face, followed by a number of words in Chinese to his
mounted companion. The boy’s puzzlement intensified when the latter,
apparently the leader of the caravan, seemingly shouted orders to more of the
mercantile outriders. However, the 10 years old’s mystification at the turn of
events soon became shocked recognition when several of these traders jumped
down from their own steeds to grab the young squire and his lame horse.
“What are you doing?” Teimuraz desperately asked, although he believed that he
now already knew the appalling answer. The boy’s assumption was proved correct
when the interpreter replied “You can come with us to China!” The man then
followed up this revelation by instructing his colleagues, in his own native
tongue, to “Strip and bind him!”
Teimuraz subsequently struggled and shouted fruitlessly, as he was forcibly
disrobed and his hands were then bound tightly behind his now bare back with
cord. The naked boy’s lovely body was subsequently held firmly whilst the
smirking mercantile leader, himself dressed in colourful silks and sporting a
traditional Chinese hat and long drooping moustache, also dismounted and
approached.
Teimuraz’s wondrous form shivered in fright and shame as the senior trader
carefully appraised the gorgeous young nude in front of him, before moving his
right hand towards the 10 years old’s hairless genitalia. The young squire
then exclaimed, whilst his smooth sexual organs were being intimately manually
and visually inspected, “You can’t do this. Let me go. I’m a servant to one of
Tamerlane’s boys!” However, his entreaties were simply ignored.
Meanwhile, Teimuraz’s cock expanded in response to the public attention being
afforded to the boy’s most private parts until the member, substantial for a
10 years old, was fully erect and throbbing. Fortunately, the manual molester
ceased his fondling just before the young squire would have been brought to
deeply humiliating dry orgasm.
“Attach him to the others!” the mercantile leader then commanded in Chinese
and, in response, the reluctant naked Teimuraz, still displaying his fulsome
erection, was dragged towards the middle of the caravan. It was only now, from
the boy’s fresh perspective, that he saw that the procession did not just
comprise mounted horses and wagons.
The tremulous Teimuraz, still uselessly shouting “You can’t do this!”, now
espied the long single column of approximately twenty similarly naked and
bound beautiful young boys, positioned between a central pair of wagons. They
were all aged between about 7 and 11 and their invariably delightful young
bodies were somehow shimmering in the strong sunlight.
Each of the boys’ slim necks were connected by rope to youngsters in front and
behind, unless they were in the leading or trailing positions, when the lack
of a young nude human either before or aft would be rectified by attachment to
one of the wagons. Teimuraz, raging thirst temporarily forgotten, quickly
found himself attached to the rear of this sad column of young recently
purchased slaves, destined for the distant Chinese market where particular
types of servant from the west were considered exotic and therefore much
sought after.
Teimuraz’s neck was attached to that of the naked boy in front, who was a
beautiful 11 years old Persian, whose body had apparently been smeared with
oil, and to the horse of the wagon behind. The 10 years old Georgian’s
continued repeated suggestions that “You can’t do this!” were then rapidly
terminated. One of the men, who had fixed the boy in place, withdrew a small
leather crop from his belt and smashed it across the lustrous curves of the
noisy newcomer’s bottom, terminating the annoying entreaties with a final
anguished squeal.
Teimuraz immediately understood the intended message and, after issuing his
pained bellow, fell silent. The traumatised boy’s marvellous naked body was
then covered, from head to toe, in some form of oil, which turned out to be a
very necessary and efficient sun blocker that caused his wonderful form to
glisten in the bright light.
The caravan then restarted its relentless journey towards the east under the
remorseless overhead desert sun and Teimuraz, cock rigidly pointing in the
direction of his new destiny, suddenly remembered that he was still very
thirsty.
(Shiraz, Persia, same time)
Vissarion’s grubby gaoler brought some bread and water to the young emissary’s
dark dank cell. The young blonde blue-eyed Georgian, immaculately groomed and
formerly dressed for his assignment, took the opportunity to demand that he be
allowed to fulfil his commission by meeting the local princely ruler.
“No chance,” the gruff smelly middle-aged gaoler replied, “as his majesty
knows that your mission was perfidious, designed to hand Shiraz easily to
Tamerlane for his men to loot and destroy. The prince has no intention of
wasting any of his precious time on you. Instead, he’s told your master to go
away, and take his army with him. Otherwise, if the so-called conqueror
attacks the city, your horribly mutilated body will be the first object that
one of our defensive catapults will hurl at him!”
“But my mission’s genuine,” Vissarion desperately pleaded, “and peace will
reign, with no harm to Shiraz, if the city opens its gates to Tamerlane.”
However, the gaoler retorted “That’s not what one of our spies tells his
majesty and he prefers to believe him than you. Enjoy your bread and water,
as, if your master fails to comply with the prince’s demand, it may be your
last.”
Despite attempts to plead his case further, the despondent Vissarion was soon
left alone in the cool dark solitude of his tiny cell.
(Silk Road, east of Yadz, Persia, same time)
Despite his mental and physical distress, Teimuraz noticed, through the open
rear of the covered wagon, which preceded the group of naked walking boys,
some more youngsters, apparently resting within the cart. However, they were
not completely naked, as their loins seemed to be covered. The 10 years old
was sufficiently intrigued by the sight to conjure a question in his newly-
acquired Persian.
“Who are they in the wagon ahead?” Teimuraz enquired of the similarly nude
young Persian just in front of him. Fortunately, despite his only very recent
acquaintance with the local language, the 10 years old’s query was understood
by the 11 years old.
“Same as us,” the young Persian answered, in a sad whisper similar to the one
in which the original question had been delivered, “only they’ve already been
nullified and are currently recovering from the experience.” The original
enquirer did not like the sound of the word ‘nullified’, even though he did
not know what the expression meant. It was therefore with great trepidation
that he quietly requested clarification of the phrase.
“They’ve had their genitals cut off,” the young Persian announced, with morose
resignation, “just as we’ll have ours severed soon!”
“What do you mean by ‘just as we’ll have ours severed soon’?” an appalled
Teimuraz not unnaturally now asked. “I’m sorry,” the young Persian replied,
“but I didn’t realise that you didn’t know how the Chinese like to alter
attractive boys from the west. They have a lucrative home market for eunuchs
with our features and whose genitals have been completely shaved away. The
merchants who now have us seem to prefer to prepare their goods in advance,
presumably for quick retail turnaround once their eventual destination is
reached. I think the only reason why all of us haven’t been nullified at the
same time is the lack of room in the recovery wagon. However, I’m sure more of
us will lose our sexual organs as soon as some of those in the cart ahead can
resume their feet and walk again.”
A mixture of shock at the young Persian’s dreadful revelation, thirst and the
almost overwhelming heat, as the caravan made its gradual progress east across
the desert, now caused Teimuraz to become light headed. However, the naked
boy’s resulting faltering progress was corrected by the rope, attached to his
neck and dragging him forwards, and another blow of the leather crop from a
vigilant attendant outrider. As a consequence, another red stripe formed
across the boy’s sublime smooth buttocks.
(Yadz, Persia, four days later)
Arman was distraught. Not only was there no sign of the adorable Teimuraz,
after an intensive search by the young Armenian, his cavalrymen and many of
his Zoroastrian hosts, but also the 16 years old had just received a
messenger, who advised him about Vissarion’s awful plight back in Shiraz.
Arman’s choice was simple but stark. The young Armenian could remain in Yadz
to continue the search for Teimuraz or he could return to Shiraz to try to
help Vissarion escape from his alarming predicament.
In the event, Arman knew that there was really only one choice. Despite the
young Georgian’s affection for his new young squire, the youth could not
abandon his oldest and dearest friend to the mercy of the prince of Shiraz.
The 16 years old’s decision was assisted by consideration of two important
factors.
First, the grieving Arman had to accept that Teimuraz was probably already
dead, having encountered, four days earlier, some terrible misfortune in the
desert around Yadz, where no-one could survive for long. Second, the youth
owed his beloved Vissarion, for rescuing the young Armenian from previous
personal perils.
Nevertheless, it was with a reluctant and heavy heart that Arman left Yadz,
and the delightful Rashu, to take the road southwest, back to Shiraz.
(Silk Road, east of Yadz, Persia, same time)
As Teimuraz’s dreadful journey east proceeded relentlessly, the boy stopped
praying to his Christian God for Arman to come to rescue him from his
appalling situation. The 10 years old had realised that the time lag was now
such, and the distance of the Chinese caravan from Yadz so great, that the
young Georgian would never think of trying to find him in such a situation.
Tears flowed down Teimuraz’s gorgeous face as he finally resigned himself to
his fate, just as the young Persian on the trail in front of him had already
done. Meanwhile, the first nullified eunuchs had taken the places of the boys
at the front of the walking column, with the replaced youngsters now in the
recovery wagon.
Teimuraz now appreciated that the Chinese perpetrated their horrifying
agonising deed when the caravan rested overnight and they had surmised that
previous victims were ready to return to their feet. The 10 years old’s
recognition of this fact was helped by hearing the muffled screams of the
gagged boys, as they were deprived of their sexual organs before having the
resultant frightful wound cauterised.
From the sight of the ugly scabs where boys’ genitalia should have been, on
the naked bodies of those now leading the sad column of young slaves, Teimuraz
also appreciated what his own loins would soon look like. As the 10 years old
walked towards his undoubted destiny, he could not help but glance down
frequently at his doomed boyhood, incongruously regularly displaying a rampant
erection.
On the current rate of progress, Teimuraz estimated that his endangered
genitalia had another week to live at most.
(Shiraz, Persia, one week later)
“Well, boy,” Vissarion’s gaoler advised the now disheveled and malnourished
young Georgian, whilst bringing more unappetising bread and water, “Tamerlane
and his army have finally agreed to leave the area and Shiraz is safe. You’ll
be kept here as hostage to make sure the so-called conqueror never returns.”
“You’d better get used to your surrounds,” the ugly smelly man continued,
whilst looking round the tiny dark dank dirty cell and displaying a broad
sneer, “as this’ll be the only world you’ll ever now from now on. However, in
return for a few favours, I might be able to make your existence a little more
comfortable.”
The apparently abandoned Vissarion knew full well, from the gaoler’s suddenly
lecherous eyes, what such favours would entail. The young Georgian presumed
that the man had only desisted from making earlier approaches through fear of
the consequences if Tamerlane had somehow prevailed and rescued the beautiful
16 years old eunuch. However, the turnkey probably now felt secure enough to
seek compliant sexual pleasure from a young prisoner who had to be accustomed
to providing such services, given that he had been one of Tamerlane’s bumboys.
Vissarion also recognised that the gaoler would probably have friends who
would like to share his enjoyment of the young Georgian’s divine body, and
that they would undoubtedly be prepared to gain their pleasure forcibly if
needed. For a normal 16 years old in this position, life’s immediate prospects
would certainly have led to anguished despair. However, the young eunuch was
not such a person, and not just because he lacked testes.
In fact, Vissarion possessed balls, but ones of character rather than genital
physique. The young Georgian also had Arman constantly in his thoughts. He
somehow knew that his oldest friend would not abandon him to rot in this
terrible place.
Vissarion, of course, rejected the gaoler’s initial verbal sexual approach.
However, the young Georgian realised that staving off the second was going to
be more difficult when the man returned with two equally grubby acquaintances.
“Now, boy,” the gaoler asked, “are you going to be a good boy and strip to
entertain my friends and me or are we going to have to rip your clothes off
you. I can assure you that, if we’re forced to do the latter, you’ll never
wear anything again!”
(Silk Road, east of Yadz, Persia, same time)
The petrified naked Teimuraz had been tied, in a spreadeagled standing
position, between two sturdy posts. The boy’s magnificent nude body had
earlier been washed of accumulated grime and its protective oil, and his small
ball sac had already been tied tightly with thin leather cord to help to stem
the later blood loss. The 10 years old’s desperate pleas not to suffer the
same fate as all the other youngsters had then not only been ignored but also
stifled by an effective gag.
Teimuraz could see the cauterising iron glowing red-hot in an adjacent
brazier, as well as blood on the ground beneath him. The sanguine stain had
been formed when the young Persian had previously been nullified at this
horrendous moonlit scene, with the 11 years old’s casually discarded severed
genitalia still resting nearby on the reddened desert soil. The older boy’s
lost penis was strangely still rigid and oozing cum.
Teimuraz also noticed the bloodstained emasculating knife in the hand of the
smirking mercantile leader as he approached. When the man knelt before the
terrified tearful 10 years old and pulled the imminent young victim’s doomed
genitals harshly downwards to stretch and expose the youngster’s scrotum in
readiness for severing at the base, several small drops of white seminal fluid
began to emerge from the endangered cockhead.
Teimuraz had entered intense orgasm, whilst his threatened genitalia were
viciously manhandled, and his sublime body visibly reverberated within the
tight constraints of his bondage, as he produced his first ever, as well as
undoubtedly last, sperm.
Teimuraz’s mind, caught between the two opposite worlds of pleasure and pain,
now felt the cold steel of the Chinese merchant’s bloody knife come to rest
against the left side of the base of his ball sac. The boy then uttered a
muffled squeal, when the man who was to emasculate him squeezed and pulled
down further on his 10 years old testes.
Whilst yet another little drop of semen spilt in response from Teimuraz’s
cockhead, there was to be no rescue from nullification for the boy by Arman.
The young Armenian was currently almost two hundred modern miles away and
firmly of the somber belief that his young squire was dead.
As the Chinese trader readied himself to perform the quick slice that would
sever Teimuraz’s boyhood, the 10 year old Orthodox Christian began to panic
and pray for salvation from any God that might help him, even that of the
Zoroastrians.
(To be continued in chapter 24 – ‘Beliefs’)
* * * |
Nero 31 | WARNING, BI, PENECTOMY, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION, MINOR | This is the thirty-first chapter of the autobiography of Bicilus, reputedly transcribed from the original Latin parchments and passed down through time until this version was discovered, translated and adapted for publication. The chapter describes some more of the happenings in Rome and the city’s vast Empire after the return from exile to the Imperial capital of Seneca the Younger. | ` NERO`
By Pueros
Chapter XXXI - Wreaths
(Olympia, Elis, Greece, Iul. DCCXCVIII A.V.C., in the 4th year of the reign of
the Emperor Claudius [July, AD 45])
‘Ne cede malis.’
(‘Yield not to evils.’)
\- Virgil
Fortunately for Athenodoros, the third kick in the balls was not perpetrated
on the 12 year-old’s already anguished groin.
Athenodoros’ captors had dropped the boy onto the damp floor tiles of the
caldarium, where the naked 12 year-old now lay, sobbing quietly, whilst
clutching his pained genitalia. However, he had been joined on the ground by
Kallikles, who was now acting similarly. Meanwhile, the Sidonian’s two 17
year-old co-conspirators had run off holding their noses, which were spilling
blood.
Athenodoros then felt gentle but powerful arms lift him off the floor to carry
him out of the caldarium. As his genital anguish lessened, the boy managed to
stop crying in order to try to see, through his tears, whom the gods of
Olympus had sent to rescue him.
Athenodoros recognised the youth immediately, from the month of compulsory
training spent with fellow competitors in the city of Elis. The 16 year-old
was known to the 12 year-old as Melankomas of Caria, who had entered and been
accepted for the strange combination of the junior stade race and boxing and
who, unusual for a fighter, was renowned for his beauty.
Melankomas, dressed in a light tunic, carried Athenodoros outside to an empty
dark glade at the rear of the quiet baths, knowing that, on this warm summer
evening, his young naked charge would not acquire a chill. The youth then lay
the nude boy down onto some grass.
“I thought that you might like to recuperate in private,” the considerate
Melankomas advised Athenodoros. The latter, rapidly recovering from his
genital agony, appreciated the gesture, recognising that the youth was
rescuing him from not only Kallikles but also the shame of being seen crying
in public.
Athenodoros then felt Melankomas’ hand gently stroke the silky crown of
straight blonde hair resplendently displayed on top of the 12 year-old’s
sublime head. However, this obvious attempt at reassurance from the youth only
caused the boy to become embarrassed at continuing to show signs of distress.
The young Aigionian therefore quickly stopped shedding tears and began to wipe
as much of the lachrymose dampness off his gorgeous face as he could with the
back of his hands.
Melankomas seemed to understand Athenodoros’ sudden abashment and produced a
small cloth from a pocket in his tunic and gave it to the boy so that the
youngster could fulfil his task more proficiently. This action prompted the 12
year-old to utter his first words since his rescue, which had previously been
denied to him by the breathlessness and shock created by the excruciation in
his crutch.
“Thank you,” Athenodoros said, as he now mopped up residual tears with the
proffered gift, “for everything, not just the cloth.” “My pleasure,”
Melankomas replied, “especially as I could tell, from the little bag of coins
on the caldarium floor, what Kallikles and his friends had been up to. You
see, they tried to bribe me as well. Fortunately, when I also declined their
offer, I was presumably too formidable an opponent, being a boxer, for even
three of them to try to injure or intimidate me by other means. Equally
fortunately, I had decided to go for a late bath and, as I did so, I heard
your yells.”
Melankomas noticed Athenodoros become embarrassed at this last revelation,
presumably because he had reminded the boy about his noisy reaction to the
assault, which, although only to be expected, could be considered in some
quarters shamefully cowardly. The 16 year-old therefore now attempted to
reassure the 12 year-old that his earsplitting response to genital attack was
only natural by suggesting “Of course, if I’d been in your position, I’d have
raised the roof with my shrieks.” The handsome Carian was rewarded for his
caring efforts with a delightful disarming smile from the beautiful Aigionian.
The youth’s cock, hidden under his summer tunic, hardened and quivered in
response.
“Do you think we should inform the Hellanodikai about the attempt of Kallikles
and his friends to bribe us?” Athenodoros then asked. “No,” Melankomas managed
to reply, despite a suddenly very dry throat, caused by belated appreciation
of the wondrous charms of the young naked form now adjacent to him, “because
it’ll just be our word against theirs. Our finest reaction would be to try our
best to defeat them in the junior stade. However, I suspect our efforts might
be fruitless because I think that the Sidonian has no need to dabble in
corruption to win, as I believe he’s truly the fastest competitor. He’s
already beaten me fairly and squarely in a couple of events elsewhere.” The
pessimistic youth did not add that the reason for his defeats might have been
his recent interest in boxing and his consequent partial neglect of proper
training for the sprint.
Noticing that Athenodoros’ tears had now dried completely and that the young
beauty appeared to have recovered fully, Melankomas now changed subject. “If
you can regain your feet,” the youth advised the boy, “I’d like you to go and
stand in the moonlight so that I can check the damage to your groin before we
go inside. We don’t want those with whom we share the barracks seeing me do
it, or they might develop the wrong idea about what we’re up to!”
On hearing these words, Athenodoros could not prevent either a giggle emerging
from his rosy lips or the concept flashing through his mind that perhaps he
would prefer the supposed ‘wrong idea’ to be the right assumption. The boy had
not previously entertained such a sentiment in respect of anyone else but
suddenly the notion of indulging in sexual play with such a handsome youth,
sent by the gods to rescue him from Kallikles, seemed rather attractive. The
12 year-old’s own uncovered cock trembled and grew in response to this
thought, a development noticed by the 16 year-old, although both tried to
feign diplomatic ignorance of the occurrence.
Athenodoros had only very recently begun to indulge in occasional private
masturbation, producing a little clear fluid whenever he attained delicious
orgasm. However, the most intriguing aspect of the discovery of the whole
tasty process for the boy was not his obvious developing wondrous bodily needs
and reactions but the desires that stimulated them in the first place.
Whenever the 12 year-old had furtively played with his penis, his mind had
been full of thoughts not of women or girls but of beautiful youths making
love to him.
Athenodoros, continuing to try to disregard his sudden penile hardness with an
air of unknowing innocence, in the hope that the embarrassing display would
disappear as quickly as it had formed, complied with Melankomas’ request and
stood in the abundant moonlight. The next dawn, the third of the 206th
Olympiad, would, of course, bring the day of not only the boys’ events but
also the full moon.
Athenodoros situated himself so that the moon illuminated the front of his
impeccable nude form, placing his hands on his slim hips and standing with his
legs apart to enable Melankomas to accomplish his task. On his part, the
handsome youth knelt before the beautiful boy to peer closely at the
completely smooth 12 year-old genitalia now dangling resplendently immediately
in front of him, still-rigid uncut cock pointing directly at the 16 year-old’s
eyes. Meanwhile, the young Carian’s own hard member began to throb within his
undergarments.
After somehow managing to discipline himself to concentrate on a visible check
of Athenodoros’ delectable sexual organs instead of doing what he really
wanted to do with them, namely lick and suck the delightful exhibition,
Melankomas’ hand gently reached up to cup the inviting young ball sac.
However, the youth’s intentions were still honourable because, after
ascertaining that there was no obvious genital bruising, he wanted to test how
sore the normally immaculate smooth scrotum was after receiving two nasty
blows from Kallikles’ sandal-shod foot.
Athenodoros audibly and visibly winced a little from the initial touch but
then his lovely body relaxed whilst Melankomas’ palm continued carefully to
weigh the 12 year-old testes, a reaction happily symbolic of the fact that no
permanent genital damage seemed to have been perpetrated. However, one part of
the boy’s superb anatomy did not ease. His unruly penis grew bigger, causing
the copious foreskin to pull back to reveal some of the cockhead, whilst the
whole slim tubular structure, now lustrously ivory-like in appearance, rose
upwards from the horizontal to vibrate in the direction of the moon.
As Athenodoros glanced down at his embarrassingly undisciplined member, he
could not help but wonder whether the goddess of the moon, Selene to the
Greeks and Luna to the Romans, was somehow influencing the penile action.
Meanwhile, Melankomas, whilst thoroughly enjoying the sensations provided by
his eyes and hand, began to feel the influence of the deity of love, Aphrodite
to the Hellenes and Venus to the Latins, infuse his mind.
Nevertheless, much as Melankomas, and his own secretly rampant cock, would
have liked to have taken matters further, sensing that the exquisite
Athenodoros would be a willing partner in some sexual play, the youth somehow
disengaged both his mind from such desires and his palm from the boy’s
scrotum. The young Carian then stood up and, with a smile, which barely
disguised his disappointment at having to terminate his endeavours, declared
“It looks as if you’ll live. There’s no bruising or damage, as far as I can
see!” The 12 year-old’s erection, in apparent sympathy with the 16 year-old’s
frustration, quickly deflated to return to sad flaccidity.
Later, when the pair literally became better acquainted, Melankomas would
advise Athenodoros that he had been taught that to indulge in sex before
serious competition was unwise. The youth would also confess to the boy that,
as a consequence, he had already remained completely chaste throughout his
month-long stay in Elis, even depriving his cock of the attention of his hand.
Naturally, it was a situation that the healthy 16 year-old was looking forward
to rectifying as soon as his participation in the Olympics had concluded.
Sarapion, completely sober because was still successfully resisting the
temptations of alcohol, returned to the barracks from his enjoyable reunion
with old friends after midnight. He then wondered why the bunk he was supposed
to use, next to the one in which Athenodoros slept in one of the large
communal dormitories, was occupied by a somnolent youth. However, he decided
to take no action regarding the matter until the morning, considerately not
wanting to disturb either the trespasser, who, he presumed, was an Olympic
competitor who had become disorientated, or his own young charge, happily
resting nearby. Accordingly, the trainer just curled up on the floor between
the two young athletes to enjoy, as best he could, his own repose.
Next morning, Sarapion learnt from the mouths of both Athenodoros and
Melankomas, whom the trainer now recognised in daylight as another competitor
in the junior stade, why the young Carian had decided to continue his
protective duties by sleeping in the trainer’s empty bed. The 16 year-old also
politely apologised for taking up the coach’s bunk, advising that he had only
originally intended to stay there until the man had returned.
Sarapion was grateful for the explanation for the loss of his bed. However, it
then took a great deal of persuasion by the young athletes to prevent the
trainer from seeking revenge against Kallikles and his cronies, and the
coach’s acute desire for vengeance had nothing to do with the discomfort of
trying to sleep on the floor.
The clinching argument for the ultimate lack of retribution by Sarapion was
Melankomas’ probably truthful contention that both the trainer and his young
charge would be expelled in disgrace from the Olympics for such action, as no
acceptable evidence of perfidy could be laid against Kallikles. The coach was
very reluctant to accept the situation, particularly as the evil Sidonian must
have been relying on lack of proof in the first place in order to survive any
accusations of assaulting Athenodoros. However, in the end, the 29 year-old
men’s stade champion of the 204th Olympiad was reluctantly forced to accept
the status quo, although he continued to mumble about extracting revenge after
the conclusion of the Games, a worthy aspiration that he personally never
secured.
For the time being at least, Sarapion instead began to concentrate on
preparing Athenodoros for the new day’s junior stade race, having profusely
thanked Melankomas for his help in saving the 12 year-old from serious injury.
The trainer also wished the 16 year-old good fortune in his own attempts to
win the sprint and later the boxing in the boys’ events. However, the coach
jested that he hoped the young Carian would not be too disappointed to observe
only the rear of the young Aigionian after the run had begun, adding that,
after all, it was a delightful perspective. The youth laughed in response,
whilst his mind not only enjoyed the joke but also recognised that the latter
comment was actually undoubtedly true.
Sarapion subsequently attended the still-naked Athenodoros through his initial
bathing and massaging, followed by light warm-up exercises and then hard
training, including a full practice run over 200 paces, the length of the
stade. Despite the hot early morning sun overhead, the boy hardly raised a
sweat during any of this sometimes strenuous activity.
Further bathing and massaging was followed by redressing in a clean light
tunic and a good breakfast, bought and brought by Athenodoros’ father
according to Sarapion’s strict dietary guidelines. The boy, trainer, parent
and kinsmen then went to participate in the traditional ceremonials that take
up much of the third morning of every Olympiad in celebration of that day’s
full moon.
They joined a great procession, which started from the Magistrate’s House in
Olympia and wound its way about the sacred precinct until reaching the large
platform that comprised the outdoor altar of Zeus. At the head of the parade
marched the judges, followed by the priests in charge of sacrifices, sacred
embassies from cities, invariably bearing costly gifts for the paramount god,
and finally the athletes and their trainers and kinsmen.
Arriving at the altar, all then watched the final ceremonial act. This was the
slaying of 100 oxen on the platform, followed by the burning of the animals’
thighs on the large mound of ashes above, left over from previous Olympiads
and never removed because they were sacred to Zeus. Athenodoros estimated that
the height of these cinders had reached the equivalent of about four men.
Meanwhile, the rest of the sacrificial flesh was taken to the Magistrate’s
House for later consumption at the concluding feasts on the fifth day of the
Olympics.
As the procession and the huge watching crowds subsequently dispersed at about
noon, everyone knew, not least the competitors, that the boys’ events were now
to take place imminently in the stadium, starting with the stade race.
Accordingly, the venue quickly filled, with a full house of 50,000 excited
spectators.
Sarapion attended to the freshly nude Athenodoros’ final preparations, in the
small crowded area set aside for these preliminaries just outside the stadium,
and lined by many of the people who could not gain access to the full athletic
arena. The usual massages and warm-up exercises were indulged. The trainer
also reminded the boy, for the umpteenth time, about the key tips for success
in the race, although neither expected to come close to victory against the
older, stronger and consequently undoubtedly faster competition. Instead,
although the fear was left unsaid, both worried that the beautiful 12 year-old
might be humiliated.
During these activities, the judges, athletes and trainers convened briefly
for the draw for the twenty starting positions, conducted by means of
withdrawing small thin lots of shaved wood, on which competitors’ names are
inscribed, from a sacred silver urn. Most men’s races involve heats and so
this ritual is performed to decide the composition of such preliminary
contests, as well as the initial commencement order of each run. However, the
Hellanodikai always exercise their judgement to determine the identity of the
athletes for the boys’ stade without the need for such an elimination process.
Athenodoros was drawn on the very outside, which not only further diminished
but also seemed to sum up neatly the 12 year-old’s chances of success. The
stade is a race to be the first to touch the sacred column, the turning point
for longer events, at the central far end of the stadium, an act symbolic of
the first competitions, which had involved a contest to light the altar of
Zeus. An outside draw therefore entails approaching the destination from an
angle, so running a longer distance.
Some Games have rectified this unfairness by making the victory objective a
line running through the winning post. However, the Olympics have, as in many
other areas, remained true to ancient tradition, despite the fact that the
resultant running angles of the twenty competitors in stade races often cause
accidental collisions. There are rules against bumping or tripping but
nevertheless such incidents, or perhaps even tricks on the part of
unscrupulous contestants, are still common.
Shortly afterwards, a naked Melankomas approached Athenodoros and Sarapion to
wish them luck, a sentiment that was reciprocated with true feeling, and to
give the trainer a small jar. The youth advised the coach that the little
receptacle contained a perfumed salve that a friend had strongly recommended
to prepare leg muscles for arduous labour.
A cautious Sarapion at first looked Melankomas in the eye to see whether there
might be any trickery inherent in the gift but perceived only genuine
benevolence. The trainer also noticed that the coach of the very handsome
youth appeared already to have rubbed some of the ointment into the 16 year-
old’s own lithe legs.
Meanwhile, Athenodoros scrutinised Melankomas’ dazzling form up close for the
first time, as he had only previously seen the young Carian in the nude from a
distance. The 12 year-old noted that, except for the youth’s hair and eyes,
which were brown, and a small tuft of pubic hair that crowned otherwise smooth
genitalia, the 16 year-old’s body resembled a larger version of his own.
Athenodoros, without being vain, had long accepted the fact that he was
regarded by many as exceptionally beautiful. The boy now confirmed that the
same description could truly be applied to Melankomas.
Before Melankomas departed to complete his own final preparations, he gave a
piece of advice to Athenodoros, whilst Sarapion demonstrated his faith in the
youth’s gift by rubbing the sweet-smelling contents of the small jar onto the
12 year-old’s leg muscles. “Whatever happens during the race,” the 16 year-old
suggested, “don’t be deflected from running your fastest to the finishing
post. You can always pause to consider what might have occurred elsewhere
after you’ve won!”
Athenodoros could not help but smile at the ridiculous thought that he might
win. Nevertheless, the perfect boy assured Melankomas that he would follow the
youth’s advice if it somehow became necessary to do so. The 12 and 16 year-old
nudes then returned to their last-moment preliminaries, but only after a
supposedly platonic brief hug designed to display mutual best wishes and
comradeship. However, Sarapion thought that he detected something else,
possibly subliminal, in the embrace. The trainer’s conjecture appeared to be
supported by the sight of two suddenly formed erections, as the two young
athletes parted.
Athenodoros, however, was not immediately concerned about the state of his
very pleasant penis. The boy, tingling sensations racing through his divine
form as a consequence of the intimate hug with Melankomas, instead opened his
right palm to see what the wonderful youth had furtively placed there during
their embrace. The 12 year-old smiled when he saw a small, but undoubtedly
valuable, gold good-luck charm, depicting Nike, goddess of victory.
Shortly afterwards, horns sounded to indicate that the time had arrived for
the twenty runners in the boys’ stade to gather for the ceremonial procession
into the stadium. As they did so, Athenodoros noticed Kallikles looking
supremely confident, with his companions of the previous night almost as
content, although presumably not through belief in imminent victory but in
gratitude for the bribes the Sidonian had undoubtedly paid them. The 12 year-
old wondered how many of the other contestants had also accepted the 17 year-
old’s corrupt largesse. However, the boy’s musings were then terminated by a
further loud blast of trumpets, signalling entrance into the athletic arena.
For some unknown reason, the unparalleled excitement of the occasion then
caused the young Aigionian’s cock to grow and rise again.
The entrance for athletes into the rectangular stadium at Olympia is by way of
a tunnel, located in the righthand corner of one of the shorter ends of the
arena. As Athenodoros emerged into the sunlight on the other side, last in the
line of young competitors in accordance with the starting draw, the vision and
tremendous noise of the vast crowds on the full terraces on all four sides
caused his heart to pound in his chest. The causal surge of blood also seemed
to make his genital embarrassment worse, with his hard unruly cock now
beginning to point vertically upwards towards his cute navel.
Athenodoros had encountered similar embarrassment previously but only in the
more relaxed atmosphere of his gymnasium, where he had become accustomed to
the common phenomenon. However, this was the first time that the boy’s cock
had exhibited penile hardness in public competition and he felt acutely
embarrassed about the situation, especially as he was appearing before the
largest crowd he had so far encountered in his young life.
Athenodoros knew that he could not hide his abashing display with his hands,
as that would mean refraining from marching in the normally accepted manner,
thereby only drawing attention to himself and compounding his humiliation. The
12 year-old therefore just swallowed hard and did nothing, hoping that people
would not notice his shame. However, the boy’s usually sublime face turned
bright red at the prospect of public embarrassment.
The processional march continued along the racetrack to the far end of the
stadium, where the starting positions were located. As the entrance parade
proceeded, a deeply abashed Athenodoros began to appreciate that his tactic,
of trying to ignore his rampant erection in the hope that no-one would notice
the exhibition of 12 year-old penile virility, had failed. Instead, many
spectators, including unmarried females, were pointing in his direction and
laughing. Unfortunately, the boy’s cock only seemed to enjoy such opprobrium
and remained resolutely rigid and upright until the distant destination was
reached.
As Athenodoros and his fellow competitors assumed their starting positions,
the boy’s embarrassment was compounded by noticing that he seemed to be the
only athlete whose cock was not flaccid. His scarlet facial hue deepened at
this realisation. Nevertheless, the 12 year-old then somehow managed to
exclude from his mind not only his abashing circumstance but also the almost
deafening cacophony of noise from all around, some now very ribald, in order
to concentrate on the imminent race.
Athenodoros, situated on the extreme right of the twenty runners, examined the
scene before him. The tall winning post beckoned invitingly at the far end of
the relatively narrow rectangular stadium, guarded by the three judges who
would arbitrate tight finishes and for him more than 200 paces away. The small
stand for the Hellanodikai, basically a little platform with a line of seats,
protected by a low stone barrier, was positioned on the left artificial
embankment, about two-thirds of the way down the course. The natural terracing
on his own side of the arena was actually formed from the lower slopes of the
Hill of Cronos, which dominates the northern edge of Olympia.
After the relevant short preparatory ceremonial, involving some loud
incantations from priests of Zeus, barely audible above the noise of the
crowd, Athenodoros and his fellow runners obeyed the instructions of the
supervising judges to prepare themselves for the imminent off. The naked boy
rested the back of his bare left foot against one of the twenty marble sills,
just a few finger-widths high, which projected from the ground to mark the
starting positions of each runner. False starts are punishable with lashes of
the arbiter’s whip but are relatively rare because of the existence for 600
years of starting gates.
These contraptions comprise, for every athlete, narrow upright wooden posts,
about chest high, to the immediate right of each competitor and embedded in
lead-lined holes. Each possess a thin light crossbeam at about waist height,
which acts as the actual starting gate by preventing contestants from
beginning their runs. These are ingeniously connected in their middles by
strings to metal eyes at the top of the vertical posts, and then downwards to
individual grooves in the stone ground, which in turn radiate to a starting
pit at the side of the stadium.
The strings from the crossbeams emerge from the separate grooves to be fixed
tautly to one master baulk. This wooden implement, when tugged by a judge,
simultaneously opens all of the gates.
Loud trumpets sounded once more, this time to signal the imminent beginning of
the junior stade of the 206th Olympiad. Athenodoros’ tightened his grip on his
good-luck charm, presented to him by Melankomas and still held in his right
hand. The boy’s body also adopted the particular crouching stance taught to
him by Sarapion as being the best position to adopt for a good start. The 12
year-old’s heart beat wildly in his chest, with his still rampant cock
throbbing in simultaneous sympathy, as most eyes, including those of the
spectators, fell onto the altar of Zeus.
Here, on a signal from the chief of the Hellanodikai, a priest would operate a
contraption whereby a bronze eagle, emblematic of Zeus, would rise up a pole,
as if beginning to soar into the air to fly. This action would, in turn, spur
the relevant judge to open the starting gates to begin the race.
Many of those watching the spectacle considered the ornithological symbolism
very appropriate for a boys’ competition, given that Zeus was supposed, whilst
in aquiline form, to have abducted Ganymede, most beautiful of mortal youths,
to be his cup-bearer on Olympus. Most of those who believed this also thought
that the presence of the divine Athenodoros might encourage the paramount god
to visit Olympia that very day to secure another young servant.
The thoughts of Athenodoros, however, were now far from such matters. Not even
his maintained fulsome erection, or the continued associated loud bawdy
commentary, bothered him any longer. The boy’s mind was instead concentrated
solely on reaching the distant finishing post as soon as possible after his
starting gate opened.
A single drop of blood fell onto the ground under Athenodoros, as the boy
waited for the wooden impediment in front of him to be released. However, the
12 year-old was oblivious to the fact or the cause, which was the action of
his neatly manicured fingernails as they bit into his right palm, so firmly
was he grasping Melankomas’ good-luck charm.
Athenodoros’ lack of concern regarding the blood was compounded by the sight
of a bronze eagle soaring into the air above Zeus’ altar and, to accompanying
trumpet blasts and increased roars from the vast crowds, the accompanying
vision of the gate in front of him finally opening.
(Olympia, Elis, Greece, almost four years later, dies Lunae A.D. IX Kal. Iul.
DCCCII A.V.C., in the 8th year of the reign of the Emperor Claudius [Monday,
23rd June, AD 49])
‘Nulla res carius constat quam quae precibus empta est.’
(‘Nothing is so expensive as that which you have bought with pleas.’)
\- Seneca the Younger (‘De Beneficiis’)
As Athenodoros, now a 16 year-old youth, stood again before the towering
statue of Zeus in the Olympieum, having concluded his prayers to the god,
another regained his feet besides him.
As Athenodoros and the now 20 year-old Melankomas then left the great Temple
of Zeus Olympios, the young Carian tried again to console the younger
Aigionian for being disqualified by the Hellanodikai from the junior stade
race in the 207th Olympiad. This prestigious event had now already taken place
on the previous day.
Athenodoros had waited patiently for four years to gain his last opportunity
to win the junior stade. However, nether he nor his friend could deny that, in
the circumstances, the Hellanodikai had been correct in their ruling, which
centred around a cultural misjudgement on the part of the young Aigionian and
his family.
Nevertheless, the hatred of both Athenodoros and Melankomas towards Kallikles,
who, like the young Carian, was now too old to participate in boys’ events,
knew no bounds, as it had been the now 21 year-old Sidonian who had pointed
out the grounds for disqualification to the Olympic judges.
(Ostia, same time)
‘Perierat totus orbis, nisi iram finiret misericordia.’
(‘The entire world would have perished unless compassion had limited the
hatred.’)
\- Seneca the Elder (‘Controversiae’)
It was not Palaemon but Gaius, still damp but now redressed in his toga
virilis, who answered the captain of the Imperial galley. The trirarchon had
not at first recognised the young man from their meeting at sea, five months
previously.
“I’d like to say that it’s nice to meet you again but, as it isn’t, I shan’t,”
Gaius opened bluntly and insultingly. “Nevertheless,” the 19 year-old
continued, “let me introduce you to some of my company. This is Palaemon,
renowned Roman teacher and newly appointed tutor to the son of the great
Claudius. Young Lucanus here is nephew to Seneca, respectively tutor and
adviser to the Emperor’s stepson and wife. This is young Helius, an assistant
of Narcissus, the Imperial secretary. As you already know, I’m an acquaintance
of Titus Flavius Vespasianus, the distinguished general and close friend of
the Princeps.”
Gaius had deliberately introduced the captain to those in his company with
Imperial connections, not for boastful reasons, because he did not possess a
modicum of vanity, but for tactical purposes, which immediately bore fruit.
“Now, sir,” the young man from Volsinii followed up by enquiring of the
trirarchon, “what were you saying about this poor unfortunate slave? Were you
trying to deny Palaemon’s promise to the wretch to save him from a return to
your galley? I wonder what the Emperor will say when he hears from five
separate sources, namely his son, stepson, wife, secretary and friend, that
you exhibited such poor manners towards an important Imperial servant, as well
as a reprehensible lack of compassion to a poor soul who, looking at him,
won’t be of much service to you for much longer!”
Gaius was, of course, both exaggerating and bluffing, knowing that neither the
Emperor nor the named quintet, except undoubtedly for Britannicus, would be
bothered about the fate of the young eunuch. He also thought that the captain
might suspect this. However, he hoped that the trirarchon would not take the
chance of incurring Imperial wrath for the sake of a galley slave.
Fortunately, both Gaius’ tactics and aspiration were proved correct when the
captain, suddenly looking suitably humble, apologised. “I’m sorry,” the
trirarchon advised, “but I didn’t know that the slave was of such interest to
you. Of course, you can do what you like with him, as you’re right, he
probably wouldn’t last much longer on my galley. I’m therefore happy to assume
that he’s served sufficient sentence on board my ship for whatever his
original crime was, especially as replacements are easy to secure.
Accordingly, he’s all yours!” The naval officer, apparently now very keen to
terminate the conversation, which had turned rather embarrassing and
humiliating for him, then declared “Farewell!” just before turning on his heel
to return to his vessel.
Shortly afterwards, having said their own goodbyes to Lucanus, Quintilianus
and Persius, as they embarked on their own ship for their journey to Hispania,
Palaemon, Axenius, Gaius, Hylas and Helius returned to Rome in the renowned
teacher’s large horse-drawn coach, or ‘carpentum’, and another similar vehicle
hired for the occasion. The ornate and comfortable 4-seat transports had
brought one relatively old and seven young passengers on the outward journey,
and now returned unexpectedly with a total of five in the younger category,
with Servius now amongst their number.
Palaemon, Axenius and Helius shared the lead coach, whilst, in the rear
carpentum, Gaius and Hylas nursed Servius, whose emaciated body, regardless of
the summer heat, was shivering, despite still being covered by parts of the
renowned teacher’s shredded toga.
The 18 year-old eunuch’s bodily shivers were caused by several factors, not
least his shock and amazement at his change in fortunes. His perplexed mind
was also currently wondering whether he had truly drowned and what was
happening to him was actually his welcome to Hades.
(Olympia, Elis, Greece, almost 4 years previously, Iul. DCCXCVIII A.V.C., in
the 4th year of the reign of the Emperor Claudius [July, AD 45])
‘When Odysseus came home after twenty years, his dog recognised him at once;
but you, after a mere four hours’ boxing, are unrecognisable not only to dogs
but to the city. Look in a mirror and you will say under oath ‘I am not
Stratophon’!’
\- Lucillius (addressing a fictitious boxer named Stratophon in a mocking
Greek epigram, written in Rome at the time of Nero)
All twenty competitors in the junior stade race, including by far the
youngest, Athenodoros, emerged from their starting gates at great pace.
Because of the different running angles and viewing perspectives, it was
initially difficult for the vast raucous crowds to determine which of the
naked contestants had taken an early lead. However, about one third of the way
down the course, it became evident that Kallikles was slightly ahead, just in
front of Melankomas. Both had been fortunate enough to achieve favourable
draws, which afforded them central starting positions.
Meanwhile, Athenodoros, seemingly less well placed, was gamely running on the
far right and was approximately in the middle of the field of athletes when
the defining incident happened.
Melankomas felt another foot tap his ankle from behind. The collision was
minor in force but major in repercussions, for it caused the speeding 16 year-
old to lose balance and stumble. As the young Carian fell, he noticed a
smirking Kallikles, just behind whose left shoulder he had been placed in
readiness to try to overtake the hated rival in a late burst, glance behind.
Melankomas somehow immediately knew from Kallikles’ expression that his
participation in the race had been deliberately sabotaged by a pre-planned
trip from one of the young Sidonian’s bribed allies, presumably because,
probably correctly, the 17 year-old perceived the 16 year-old as his most
serious rival for the Olympic wreath. As the young Carian began to hit the
hard ground, anger of an almost unprecedented nature swelled within his
beautiful form, a reaction that caused his right arm to reach out.
It was now that Kallikles felt a disastrous blow to his own heel, and to his
own corrupt ambitions. The 17 year-old screamed in horror as, stimulated by
Melankomas’ desperate fingertips, a loss of balance at speed brought a young
Sidonian to join a young Carian on the ground, in championship oblivion. To
voluminous gasps from the crowd, several more athletes tripped over the prone
bodies, thereby forming a large, stationary, floored melee. Meanwhile, a
certain young Aigionian obeyed his new friend’s earlier advice.
Melankomas had advised Athenodoros “Whatever happens during the race, don’t be
deflected from running your fastest to the finishing post. You can always
pause to consider what might have occurred elsewhere after you’ve won!” The 12
year-old, moving at the fastest pace that he had ever run, and well away from
the immobile heap of fellow competitors because of his outside starting
position, which now looked fortuitous as opposed to unfortunate, rushed past
the debacle and suddenly found no-one ahead of him. However, continuing to
remember the young Carian’s tip, the boy did not look behind and instead
occupied his sensuous blue eyes with the sight of the tall Doric column, which
represented the finishing post and was coming closer and closer.
Athenodoros, whose still-rampant smooth genitalia were flopping around wildly
amidst his rush, did not even glance backwards when he heard the hard
breathing of someone trying to make a desperate effort to overtake him. The
boy instead somehow miraculously quickened his pace and soon the panting noise
was lost once more amongst the deafening cheering from all sides, as he
approached the column ahead.
For the rest of his life, Athenodoros could remember every single one of the
last fifty paces he made to try to touch the sacred pillar first. To others
watching, the time taken to cover this distance was momentary but, for the
boy, it seemed almost a lifetime.
Nevertheless, this particular lifetime eventually passed and Athenodoros’ 12
year-old fingers subsequently embraced the finishing post long before anyone
else, to make him the youngest junior stade champion since Damiscus, 400 years
earlier. However, the boy’s initial reaction was not to jump for joy, or
exhibit any other sign of celebratory exhilaration. The young Aigionian
instead squatted close to the sacred pillar, covered his genitalia and closed
his eyes.
This unusual reaction to victory was actually not a show of Athenodoros’ usual
modesty or, as many observers thought, an act of reverential prayer to thank
Zeus for his miraculous success. The boy was instead trying to recover some
composure and decorum, having entered sexual orgasm at the feel of the winning
post.
Fortunately, no-one else, apart from a single individual, ever recognised this
potentially embarrassing happening, partly because Athenodoros was currently
insufficiently mature to expel the evidence of semen when climaxing.
Consequently, when his very short reverie was terminated, after he was
engulfed by officials and some of the more generous of his defeated rivals, as
well as his trainer, father, kinsmen and a number of the crowd, the naked
boy’s sexual secret was not exposed. This circumstance was helped by an
eventual return to flaccidity of his naughty young member. Only a recovered,
and ecstatically and unselfishly happy, Melankomas had spotted the telltale
little droplet of clear fluid on the 12 year-old victor’s uncut cockhead.
Subsequently, the most senior of the Hellanodikai, who were undoubtedly very
happy at the vindication of their controversial decision to permit a mere 12
year-old to run in the junior stade, awarded Athenodoros the winner’s sacred
olive wreath. The naked boy was then loudly acclaimed by the crowd of 50,000,
as well as being pelted by them with flowers and light olive branches. Only
Kallikles and his fellow defeated competitors, with the noticeable exception
of Melankomas, seemed miserable at the outcome.
Although success had perhaps been fortuitously achieved, the victory was
nonetheless universally regarded as being as meritorious as any other because
everyone believed that the good fortune had emanated from divine intervention.
Such luck had revealed that the gods, especially Zeus himself, had wanted
Athenodoros to win. Accordingly, the boy was considered to be as worthy a
champion as there had ever been, especially when his age and diminutive frame,
compared to his rivals, was taken into account.
The tumult lasted a long time until trumpeters ended the celebrations because
the stadium needed to be cleared for the boys’ boxing. It was then that
Athenodoros, trying his best to wear his immensely prestigious olive wreath on
his head, although it had clearly been made for someone older, delighted
Melankomas, who was participating in the next event, even more. The 12 year-
old stade champion, having gained the permission of his incredulously ecstatic
trainer and father, who would, at that moment, have granted their young charge
anything he desired, asked to be one of the 16 year-old’s seconds, alongside
the youth’s closest kinsmen.
The duties of a boxer’s second are largely honorific, being confined to minor
menial tasks associated with the fighter’s preparations and recoveries from
individual bouts. Nevertheless, as Melankomas sought his own olive wreath in
his second competition, Athenodoros wanted to be close to his new older friend
in order to assist in anyway that might be useful, especially as the event had
a very brutal reputation.
Athenodoros secretly feared for Melankomas’ welfare, although he would not
disclose such trepidation, not wanting to do anything that might undermine the
youth’s confidence or esteem. The boy instead hoped to somehow provide
assistance that would lessen his new friend’s inevitable sufferings, which he
felt might be compounded by the recent disastrous exertion in the stade.
Athenodoros also furtively prayed to the gods, whilst hoping that he was not
pushing his luck too far by doing so on that day. The boy begged the deities
to allow Melankomas not to sustain any permanent damage to his very handsome
nude form, which, like that of the 12 year-old, attracted many admirers but
seemed very insubstantial for a winning athlete, especially a fighter.
However, the young Aigionian was realistic enough to recognise that his plea
to the divinities would probably go unheeded, as fulfilling a boxing
tournament unwounded, or ‘atraumatistos’, was very rare, even for the top
champions.
In the fighting events, there are few rules, no weight-classes and no time
limits. Top-level bouts are therefore generally restricted to tough, well-
muscled contestants, famed for indulging in copious meat diets to gain bulk
and strength. Many participants, even at junior level, are huge and possess
bull necks. Consequently, Melankomas’ beautiful slim lithe frame, of average
height, contrasted sharply with the norm. A deeply concerned Athenodoros, not
currently knowing the youth’s background in the discipline, therefore wondered
how the 16 year-old had passed the scrutiny of the Hellanodikai in order to
enter the competition stage of the most prestigious boxing tournament of all.
As a result of his late appointment as one of Melankomas’ seconds,
Athenodoros, now redressed in a light tunic, found himself once more in the
preparation ground, just outside the stadium, before shortly afterwards re-
entering the athletic arena in another procession. Without any public slight
intended to the boxers, it was obvious to all that some of the resultant
cheering was aimed at the quickly returning victor of the junior stade, who
was now a great hero, especially because he had been victorious at such a
tender age. I suspect that the boy’s physical loveliness also added to his
sudden immense popularity.
Nevertheless, Athenodoros, whilst politely acknowledging the cheers, was now
primarily concerned about Melankomas’ wellbeing. His worry stemmed not only
from observing the mammoth fierce proportions of the youth’s prospective
opponents but also recall of one of the works of Nicophon, a writer of
epigrams, about a competitor from Milesia, who had participated in an Olympics
over half a century earlier.
Nicophan had suggested that “Not even Olympian Zeus watched without trembling,
as the Milesian giant, with the thick bull neck, the iron shoulders of Atlas,
the hair and beard of Heracles and the eyes of a lion, won the boxing event.”
To Athenodoros’ worried eyes, Melankomas’ first opponent, drawn by earlier lot
from the silver urn and despite supposedly being only 17 years old, appeared
to fit the epigrammatist’s description perfectly.
Athenodoros had never given boxing, or the other pair of combat sports,
wrestling and pankration, much consideration previously, believing such
violent pastimes worthy only of barbarians not supposedly civilised Greeks and
Romans. However, as Melankomas was being prepared by his trainer, the boy
looked on fascinated as the youth’s hands and wrists were tightly bound with
the requisite hard sharp leather thongs, which left the fingers free.
Nevertheless, the 12 year-old still had the mental capacity to remember the 16
year-old’s lucky charm, which bad brought the younger competitor such
magnificent recent glory in the junior stade.
Athenodoros returned the tiny gold depiction of Nike to Melankomas’ own palm,
with words of copious thanks and a look that suggested something more complex.
The boy ensured that the charm was tightly engulfed by the manual bindings,
without the possibility of the talisman bringing either the wearer or his
opponents any harm, apart from that resulting from the luck the little icon
would hopefully bestow on the former.
As Athenodoros saw the charm disappear amidst the thongs, he prayed quietly to
both Zeus and Nike to give Melankomas both protection and victory. Then, just
after the trumpets sounded to herald the beginning of the boxing, the boy not
only gave the readied youth a hug but also a brief kiss on the cheek. When the
pair separated again, the naked 16 year-old’s cock was no longer flaccid. The
phenomenon was also matched on the 12 year-old’s lovely form, although this
was now hidden from public view by his newly acquired tunic.
Thankfully, Melankomas’ potentially publicly embarrassing phenomenon did not
persist and his cock had softened again by the time that he confronted his
first and, in Athenodoros’ opinion, probably last opponent. The boy could not
see how the youth could possibly defeat such a monster, who not only towered
over the young Carian but also possessed limbs that looked like tree trunks
bristling with muscles and a torso that resembled a small mountain. The ugly
face of the 17 year-old, which suggested a much older age than that declared
for entry into the junior boxing, additionally indicated extensive brutal
fighting experience, given the nasty scars present.
Athenodoros’ concern for Melankomas’ welfare now extended to worrying about
how the youth could possibly deliver a knockout blow because his tall
opponent’s chin seemed almost unreachable. The boy presumed that blows to the
monstrous body would be ineffectual, with the ogre’s ugly head potentially the
only weakness in his defence. However, to stand any chance of hitting that
target, the 12 year-old realised that the 16 year-old would have to be
standing very close to the supposed 17 year-old, so making himself very
vulnerable to counterattack, which, in the young Aigionian’s mind, would
probably be terminal. He just hoped that it would also not prove to be fatal.
Deaths in fighting contests are not unknown. In fact, the law covered the
possibility by exempting fatalities in Games from being subject to murder
charges.
Sarapion had once told his young charge, in one of his frequent anecdotes with
which he often tried to entertain the boy, about one bout in the Nemean Games,
when two competitors, one from Syracuse and the other from Epidamnus, could
not score a knockout. They therefore agreed to hit each other in turn until
one went down or gave up. The first blow was an unsuccessful attempt to the
head. However, this was immediately followed up by another punch that was so
contrived that fingers penetrated into entrails, which were then torn out,
creating a fatal wound. The survivor was disqualified, not for causing death
in such a heinous manner, but for breaking the agreement by administering more
than one strike during his turn. Athenodoros had never been able to tell
whether his trainer’s story was true or was just one of the tall tales that
gullible visitors to Games often hear from the local guides they can hire to
show them round. The coach himself did not reveal the secret, instead just
smiling mischievously when the 12 year-old asked about the veracity of the
yarn.
The rules allow hits to be made below the waist but Athenodoros did not
believe that Melankomas would dishonour himself by trying to strike his
opponent’s hairy genitalia, which were incongruously tiny given the monster’s
other proportions. The boy also appreciated that the blows, which could
include those with both the fist and open palm, would continue without time
restraint until one boxer was either knocked out or raised his right hand to
signal surrender.
Judges, supervising each bout, would use their whips, if necessary, to ensure
that the combatants stayed within reasonable reach of one another, because no-
one was interested in watching bouts that were little more than lengthy shadow
boxing. The public also did not have all day to await a conclusion. They
wanted to see bloody violence instead and the arbiters were present to ensure
that public taste was catered for.
Sixteen contestants, including Melankomas, had been selected by the
Hellanodikai for the junior boxing, committing the eventual winner to four
successive successful bouts, during the course of the afternoon, to achieve
his victory. It was not unknown for one of the surviving pair to be forced to
withdraw from the final because of injuries received in the earlier rounds.
Melankomas first round bout against the monster was the third to take place in
the centre of the crowded raucous stadium, a location where spilt blood was
already evident on the ground. As the 16 and 17 year-old ill-matched opponents
squared up to each other, there was no greeting, nor would there be any polite
congratulations or commiserations between the two afterwards. Everyone knew
that such sentiments were incompatible with their aim, victory, to achieve
which, as Pindar once phrased it in respect of rivals, ‘You meant them harm’.
Athenodoros closed his eyes when the trumpet resounded to signal the
commencement of the fight, because the boy was now too terrified for
Melankomas’ wellbeing to watch.
(Imperial palace, Rome, almost 4 years later, dies Martis A.D. VIII Kal. Iul.
DCCCII A.V.C., in the 8th year of the reign of the Emperor Claudius [Tuesday,
24th June, AD 49])
‘Uva uvam videndo varia fit.’
(‘A grape changes colour [ripens] when it sees [another] grape.’)
\- Juvenal
Whilst Palaemon was in the very pleasant company of Britannicus and Cornutus,
the renowned teacher was content that he had secured Servius’ wellbeing. In
fact, the famous tutor would eventually despatch the 18 year-old, in his
carpentum and in the care of reliable servants, to his quiet Umbrian vineyard,
where he knew that the kind parents of Apollinus and Helius would nurse the
young eunuch back to full health in their rural idyll. The young man’s
recuperation should also almost certainly be aided by the fact that he was
going to an environment that resembled his own rustic roots.
(Olympia, Elis, Greece, one month later, Iul. DCCCII A.V.C., in the 8th year
of the reign of the Emperor Claudius [July, AD 49])
‘Vivamus……..atque amemus.’
(‘Let us live……..and let us love.’)
\- Catullus (5, 1)
16 year-old Athenodoros and 20 year-old Melankomas reached the quiet summit of
the Hill of Cronos at dusk, which falls late in the month of Iulius, and
looked down at the amazing sight of Olympia below, still heaving with vast
crowds and beginning to be illuminated by many lamps. The two close friends
sat awhile to contemplate the day’s events, whilst observing the scene, arms
wrapped round each other’s backs.
Then, as darkness descended further, Athenodoros and Melankomas stood up and
began to walk in the full moonlight down the opposite wooded incline from the
one they had originally climbed. Olympia was now shielded from their view by
the hill.
The resumed walk led Athenodoros and Melankomas to an area they had visited
four years earlier, and which now hid them from the view of the hordes
visiting Olympia for the 207th Olympics. All contests had now concluded and
the next, fifth, day of the quadrennial Games would concentrate on
ceremonials, particularly those honouring the victors.
As Athenodoros and Melankomas sought their own revered sanctuary, they held
each other’s hands tightly, not through fear of the darkness or the slope but
rather because of another, altogether different, powerful emotion.
(Olympia, Elis, Greece, 4 years previously, Iul. DCCXCVIII A.V.C., in the 4th
year of the reign of the Emperor Claudius [July, AD 45])
‘Vulnerant omnes, ultima necat.’
(‘All of them wound, the last one kills.’)
– Inscription, referring to hours, on a Roman sundial
12 year-old Athenodoros and 16 year-old Melankomas, attired in light summer
tunics, sat on the grass in the small tree-lined copse, besides a narrow fast-
running stream, on the far side of the Hill of Cronos from Olympia. The young
Carian had been shown the secret secluded venue during his earlier visit to
the area four years previously. The young Aigionian, still wearing the ill-
fitting olive wreath on his sublime head, was asking of his companion “Where
did you learn that boxing technique?”
“A ghost taught me,” Melankomas answered intriguingly, with a few tears
beginning to form in his sensuous brown eyes. This unexpectedly disturbing
reply caused Athenodoros to wrap his arm round his older companion, the first
time he had dared such an action outside the supposedly platonic hugs the pair
had afforded each other at various times during the past momentous day. The 12
year-old was pleased to note that the 16 year-old did not shy away from such
intimacy but instead reciprocated it.
Melankomas fell silent, apparently not initially keen to expand his answer.
However, a gentle verbal prod from Athenodoros encouraged the youth to tell
his story.
Melankomas related how, in his homeland of Caria, he had acquired, at the
unusually early age of twelve, a pedagogue four years older. “I know it sounds
stupid for one so young,” the youth had advised, “but it was love at first
sight!” Athenodoros yearned to say that he could well understand the
phenomenon, because he was beginning to experience the same, but somehow
remained quiet to allow his new friend to continue his story.
“He was a 16 year-old boxer,” Melankomas informed, “a sport I had never been
interested in, because I was a runner, until I saw him compete. Unlike those
he fought, he was far from monstrous or ugly, and he possessed a personality
to match. He was also successful, winning many minor junior tournaments,
achievements that brought him here four years ago. He said he wanted to win
the boys’ wreath in the 205th Olympiad and then the men’s at the 206th Games,
after which he would retire to concentrate on loving me.” Recall of the latter
remark brought a smile to the young Carian’s beautiful face, which was
unfortunately very short-lived once he resumed his tale.
“His successes,” Melankomas announced, “were achieved not through ignorant
brute force but via guile and athleticism. Always obeying the rules, and so
avoiding the judges’ whips, by keeping within easy reach of his opponents, he
used exceptional speed and reflexes to duck and weave himself out of the way
of hostile strikes aimed at him, whilst delivering a few hard blows of his
own. However, he rarely knocked anyone out. Instead, those he fought usually
collapsed to their knees, or otherwise surrendered, through exasperation and
pained exhaustion, until, that is, he reached the junior final at the last
Olympics, which I was honoured to attend as one of his seconds. He brought me
to this grove to make love on the night before he fought.”
Tears now began to flow down Melankomas’ cheeks in response to the pain of
recalling the 205th Games. Athenodoros therefore tightened his grip on his new
friend’s back and wondered whether he should wait patiently for the youth to
be ready to recount the rest of his story or tell him that he could
discontinue if he preferred. However, before the 12 year-old could decide what
action to take, the 16 year-old resumed his discourse.
“My lover lost his footing early on in the final,” Melankomas advised, with
tears still flowing, “on some blood spilt in earlier bouts. As a result, he
suffered a leg injury that not only slowed him substantially but also
completely undermined his normal tactics. Consequently, he was battered by the
massive brute who was the other finalist. However, my lover wouldn’t give up,
despite shouted entreaties from me to do so, until finally he was knocked out.
By this time, his once beautiful face had been smashed into a pulp.”
“He died that day,” Melankomas proceeded, “not in body, because he survived to
return to Caria, but in soul. Despite our continued mutual devotion, and the
best efforts of me and many others to repair and console him, he continued to
grieve in our homeland for his lost pride and beauty, destroyed by much facial
disfiguration. One day, he disappeared. Later, his dead form was found at the
foot of sea-cliffs near Halicarnassus, our home city. My subsequent acute
grief was intensified by my acceptance that I had brought about my pedagogue’s
defeat. You see, by allowing him to make love to me, here on the night before
his event, I believe that I drained him of some of his vigour. Moreover,
because of silly excitement, I forgot to take to the stadium a certain small
bag, with which I had been entrusted as one of his seconds and which contained
his two most precious athletic possessions. These were the charm and the salve
that assisted your great victory today. After his funeral, I swore to the gods
that, in restitution and in his honour, I would learn his sport in his style
and win the two Olympic events, boys’ and men’s, he had aimed for, before
settling down myself to love someone.”
Quiet descended on the glade for a while, as Athenodoros thoughtfully
attempted to grant some peace to Melankomas to allow the 16 year-old to
overcome his tears and melancholy. However, before long, the boy could not
resist the temptation to ask the youth gently “Who would you settle down with
to love?”
Melankomas tried his best to dry his eyes and face before looking into the
unparalleled beauty of the blonde blue-eyed visage next to him. However, as
the youth finally achieved his aim, he found himself unable to speak. The
gorgeous boy, recognising the situation, therefore continued his questioning,
whilst maintaining his firm hold on the lovely 16 year-old form next to him.
“Could you love me?” Athenodoros enquired. The boy was answered when the lips
on the youth’s completely unmarked face reached out to meet those of the 12
year-old.
Shortly afterwards, two discarded light summer tunics rested at the side of
the glade. On top of each was an olive wreath, one awarded to the winner of
the boys’ stade and the other to the victor in the junior boxing.
(Olympia, Elis, Greece, 4 years later, Iul. DCCCII A.V.C., in the 8th year of
the reign of the Emperor Claudius [July, AD 49])
‘Augescunt aliae gentes, aliae minuuntur; inque brevi spatio mutantur saecia
animantum et quasi cursores vitae lampada tradunt.’
(‘Some people increase, others diminish; and in a short space, the generations
of living creatures are changed and like runners pass on the torch of life.’
\- Lucretius (‘De Rerum Natura’)
16 year-old Athenodoros and his pedagogue, 20 year-old Melankomas, reclined
naked in each other’s arms, once more on the grass in their secret glade, with
their discarded tunics lying on the ground nearby. They were reminiscing about
the day’s events, having just made love again, for the umpteenth time over the
past four years. However, as usual, they had done so with the same sort of
passion that had overcome them for the first time on that glorious night of
the 206th Olympiad, as 12 and 16 year-old Olympic champions. Neither had ever
grown tired of each other’s wondrous bodies or, for that matter, impeccable
personalities and faithful, piquant companionship.
Athenodoros and Melankomas, and their trainers and kinsmen, had received
tumultuous acclaim on their return, with their Olympic wreaths, to their
respective home cities. They were feted in the traditional manner and received
the customary munificent largesse, which enriched them, their coaches and
their families. However, the main concern of the champion pair had actually
been to meet up again and they achieved this feat by agreeing to a pedagogic
association, in which they would compete together at the same Hellenic Games.
Sarapion and Athenodoros’ father had, in Olympia, immediately recognised the
telltale signs of the new relationship between the two Olympic victors and,
despite the younger boy’s tender years, they decided not only not to interfere
but also to support the affair. As far as the adults were concerned, such
love, developed in such sacred and glorious circumstances, between two
delightful young champions, had to be divinely inspired.
Consequently, the wishes of Athenodoros and Melankomas to enter into a
pedagogic association, and compete together in the same Games, were met, with
competition timetables set accordingly. However, the boy initially
concentrated on age-segregated stades, whilst the youth abandoned his running
to give his fullest attention to boxing.
Sarapion’s decision not to allow Athenodoros to participate in open age events
stemmed from a desire not to want to test the gods, who grant good fortune,
too far. The trainer believed that, in a straight problem-free race against
the top competitors, his beautiful young charge would not win, although he was
now sure that he would also not come last or anywhere near. The 12 year-old
was therefore denied the opportunity to compete as a junior against those up
to five years older, such as Kallikles, and we shall therefore never know
whether his victory in the 206th Olympiad, whilst of such tender years, was a
fluke or not.
Sarapion’s ruling was assisted by that fact that neither Athenodoros nor he
were now reliant for funds on municipal grants. They therefore did not have to
comply with the probably over-ambitious competition demands of Aigion’s civic
leaders in respect of the city’s very young Olympic champion.
Sarapion’s policy lasted for three years, until Athenodoros became a 15 year-
old and had no choice except to compete against contestants who included 16
and 17 year-olds. Up to then, the boy’s renown and riches had grown even more,
because he had remained unbeaten in the many Games, throughout the Roman
Empire’s Hellenic eastern provinces, in which he had participated. Melankomas
had simultaneously achieved the same feat in the boxing, even though he had
now graduated to the men’s competition. The pair’s copious victories were
always assisted by a certain good-luck charm and salve, the latter obtained
from a Carian apothecary.
Athenodoros’ first major competition as a 15 year-old, which he came to still
undefeated, having now beaten older youths in open age stades at minor Games,
was the sprint in the biennial summer Nemean periodos festival of DCCCI. The
boy emerged from his race against the top 16 and 17 year-olds runners with the
wreath of celery, as did 19 year-old Melankomas for his involvement in the
men’s boxing.
Melankomas had actually won the boys’ boxing at Nemea two years previously, as
a 17 year-old. Meanwhile, the then 13 year-old Athenodoros had been denied the
opportunity by Sarapion’s probably correct, at that time, proscription of his
young charge from participating in open age events. The young Carian had
subsequently gone on to remarkable victories in the equivalent men’s fighting
events in the following year’s major periodos Games, the biennial Isthmian at
Corinth, held in spring in honour of Poseidon, and quadrennial Pythian, held
in summer at Delphi for Apollo.
Through his splendid achievements, Melankomas became a ‘periodonikes’, a
champion in all four primary athletic celebrations, albeit one whose
accomplishments included only a junior championship at Olympia. The young
Carian felt he needed to win as a man in the 207th Olympics to earn the title
properly, after which he intended to retire. He would then have discharged his
pledge to honour his deceased pedagogue, and so he could instead concentrate
on fulfilling his promise to focus the rest of his life on loving Athenodoros.
Melankomas’ accomplishments were particularly famed, throughout the Hellenic
world, for the manner in which they were attained. The young Carian had
refined his deceased pedagogues’ boxing technique even more, so that he never
needed to inflict a blow on his invariably huge but cumbersome opponents. He
instead just weakened them so much by his unprecedentedly agile defensive
movements that he eventually brought them to their knees. In doing so, he
always managed to avoid personal harm, so retaining his resplendent lithe
athletic bodily beauty into early manhood.
Of course, Melankomas’ boxing tactics did not result from a selfish desire for
self-protection. Recognising, from personal experience, the horrific physical
and mental damage fighting can cause, the young Carian instead wanted to
fulfil his pledge to his deceased pedagogue by inflicting no real harm, other
than exhaustion and the misery of defeat, on opponents. He would have
considered victory by more violent means disgracefully unworthy.
In the spring of the present year, DCCCII, Athenodoros and Melankomas, having
now passed their 16th and 20th birthdays, won respectively the boys’ and men’s
pine wreaths at the spring Isthmian Games. The award represented the second
such victory for the young Carian.
Athenodoros was now the junior stade champion in three of the four periodos
festivals, with only the Pythian title eluding him, as Sarapion’s wise
protective policy had precluded the boy from competing as a 14 year-old at
these Games two years previously. This prevention, of course, had also sadly
denied the trainer’s young charge the opportunity to become a junior
periodonikes, because he would be classified as a man when the next
quadrennial athletic event in honour of Apollo took place at Delphi.
Meanwhile, Kallikles, like Melankomas, was already now classified as a man.
Unfortunately, this evil, corrupt young Sidonian had additionally remained
unbeaten since his demise in the 206th Olympiad, winning the men’s stade at
the five periodos festivals that had taken place since the last Olympics.
However, this fact only partially helped to assuage his feeling of disgrace,
at failing to secure victory in the world’s primary athletic celebrations four
years previously, and his resultant intense desire for revenge.
Accordingly, at the next Olympics, the 207th, Athenodoros, Melankomas and
Kallikles arrived in Olympia unbeaten since the previous sacred celebrations
there, with the latter athlete also intent on securing vengeance for his
earlier defeat, not necessarily by sporting means. However, the young
Aigionian did not expect to have to face the Sidonian again in these Games.
The now 16 year-old was looking forward to defending his junior stade title,
for which event he was red-hot favourite, whilst the 21 year-old was
competing, with similar very short betting odds against his chances of
success, in the men’s equivalent.
No-one, not even the legendary Damiscus, who had disappeared from history
after his win as a 12 year-old, had been known to attempt to defend the junior
stade, let alone accomplish the feat. This circumstance stemmed mainly from
the fact that past winners usually emerged from the upper end of the boys’ age
group and had therefore become men by the time of the next four-yearly
Olympics.
Athenodoros and his supporters, as well as virtually all visitors to the
Olympics, were therefore bitterly disappointed that the boy, with such an
estimable record, was denied the opportunity to achieve this unprecedented
accomplishment, through being disqualified by the Hellanodikai from the event
on a cultural technicality. Kallikles had attempted to secure at least some
retribution on the young Aigionian by complaining to the judges that the 16
year-old should already be classified as a man, thereby making him ineligible
to defend the junior stade.
Kallikles had heard from an acquaintance, who had competed in Aigion’s annual
Games, that Athenodoros had been spotted wearing a toga virilis. The boy had
innocently succumbed to family wishes to undertake, after reaching 16 years of
age, the relevant Roman manhood ritual, which reflected familial Latin roots
despite recent Hellenisation. No-one, except the evil vengeful Sidonian, had
appreciated the likely consequences for participation in Games if anyone
reported the event.
Athenodoros and his supporters did not argue against the ruling of the
Hellanodikai, recognising that the judgement was sound because, in ultimately
prevailing Roman law, the 16 year-old, having ritually accepted the toga
virilis, was regarded as a man not a boy. The young Aigionian’s participation
in the stade race was therefore instead reluctantly transferred to the men’s
event, where not only the extremely fast Kallikles stood between him and the
wreath but also many other speedy older competitors from all over the Hellenic
world. In fact, there were so many other contestants that heats would have to
take place in order to decide the finalists.
Athenodoros was once again the youngest competitor in an Olympic championship.
The 16 year-old was also no longer the red-hot favourite to win, as few gave
him a chance against the formidable older athletes. Kallikles shared this
opinion, or he would not have taken his action to have the boy disqualified
from the junior race. However, the Sidonian also decided to take out some
insurance to ensure the young Aigionian’s failure in his new event.
Despite Sarapion’s confidence in Athenodoros’ supreme abilities in the junior
stade, the trainer also did not believe that his young charge, whose beauty
had only refined, not lessened in any way, since the last Olympics, was fast
enough to win the senior race. The coach additionally worried about the
effects on the 16 year-old of having to run preliminary heats, which did not
happen with the boys’ event.
Sarapion thought that Athenodoros should reach the final but that, by then,
his young charge’s slim, lithe lower limbs might be so tired that he was
unable to compete effectively for the ultimate prize. The trainer was
eventually proved correct in his first assumption and the boy became one of
the twenty finalists. However, the coach prayed to the gods that his second
conjecture would reveal itself to be without merit. The man’s hopes were also
lifted a little when the 16 year-old secured a favourable central draw for the
race.
When the procession of the naked finalists entered the stadium on the fourth
day of the 207th Olympiad, it was obvious, from the cheering, that the vast
crowd favoured Athenodoros, although virtually none had put their money on him
to win with the bookmakers who attended all Games. Most of the spectators had
disliked the way the boy had been disqualified from defending his junior
title, and therefore hoped that Zeus would compensate him by granting him
victory in the adult event. However, few had actual expectancy of this
happening, as the beautiful 16 year-old was easily the youngest, most
diminutive and least muscular of the contestants.
Athenodoros’ popularity undoubtedly also stemmed from his retained physical
perfection. His impeccably formed frame remained very boyish in appearance,
making his appearance amongst the men even more visibly incongruous. In fact,
the only concession the 16 year-old’s body had apparently given towards
categorisation as a man, through his unfortunate acceptance of the toga
virilis, was a small neat golden tuft above his otherwise still completely
hairless and smooth genitalia.
Athenodoros’ favouritism amongst the crowd was probably intensified still
further by the appearance of another fulsome erection whilst he entered the
stadium. As the beautiful blonde cast his sensuous blue eyes downwards to
glance at the renewed genital embarrassment, he wondered what it was about
Olympic finals that caused such a display, because the phenomenon did not
occur elsewhere. However, the 16 year-old also realised that he was happy to
maintain such a humiliating penile exhibition, and to orgasm again at the
finishing post, if, in return, his fingers touched the sacred column first.
His attitude was maintained even though he recognised that, this time, copious
white ejaculate would be readily visible as guilty witness to the literal
climax of such a race.
Athenodoros’ show of young male virility was still present when subsequently
the bronze eagle soared into the air and his starting gate opened, to
accompanying wild cheering. However, the boy’s aspirations for a second olive
wreath appeared to be condemned almost immediately when an adjacent athlete
seemed to trip, taking, as he fell, the young Aigionian to the ground with
him.
As Athenodoros looked up from his prone position, he saw the other runners
racing ahead. As Melankomas had done four years previously, the boy also
noticed the guilty but happy smirk on Kallikles’ face, as the 21 year-old
glanced behind to ensure that his vengeance was complete. However, unlike the
situation for the young Carian then, the evil, corrupt Sidonian was out of the
young Aigionian’s reach.
Athenodoros and his supporters, especially the highly protective Melankomas
and Sarapion, had ensured that the boy had been safe away from the stadium.
However, they had sadly been unable to prevent an act of perfidy taking place
in the athletic arena itself.
Athenodoros now felt the tiny golden shape of Nike in his grip, such
possession of the lucky charm still being a constant habit during competitive
races. Unprecedented anger then seared through the boy’s gorgeous naked body,
as if the goddess herself was making her fury, at being denied another
victory, known to him.
In an instant, Athenodoros had regained his feet and was again racing.
(Latium, Italia, same time)
‘Nosce te ipsum.’
(‘Know thyself.’)
\- Inscription at the temple of Apollo in Delphi.
Servius, neatly attired in a rich warm toga, and being munificently attended
by two of Palaemon’s servants whilst he rode through the countryside of
Latium, north of Rome, in the renowned teacher’s carpentum, silently thanked
the gods for his salvation. However, he then rather ungratefully wondered if
he really wanted to continue to live in the longer term, even away from the
hell of the galley, without his wife, child and balls.
Fortunately, despite the return of such disturbing depressive thoughts, the
young 18 year-old eunuch eventually decided to afford life in this world one
more chance, by seeing what eventual arrival in Umbria would bring.
(Olympia, Elis, Greece, same time)
‘Bis vincit qui se vincit in victoria.’
(‘He who conquers himself into victory, wins twice.’)
\- Publius Syrus
Whilst holding each other’s hands, Athenodoros and a still unmarked and very
handsome Melankomas had found their secret hillside grove once more. They
then, without speaking, again quickly helped each other to strip, finding
their respectively 16 and 20 year-old cocks already rigid in anticipation of
the night to come.
After making love, the beautiful pair would invariably reminisce until their
sexual desires and energies were restored and their mouths were required for
other tasks.
Meanwhile, their discarded tunics, on the ground nearby, were crowned with two
more freshly won olive wreaths, symbolic of a duo of men’s champions of the
207th Olympiad.
(To be continued in chapter XXXII – ‘Circumcisions’)
* * * |
Unhappy Eunuch | STRAIGHT, PENECTOMY, TESTICLES | Castrated against my will. | ` When I was 22 I fell in love with a 19 yr. old girl, I'll call her Liz. We
were out on a drive one evening, and decided to stop, park and fool around. We
were in the back seat of my Chev. We were both naked and haveing a good time,
when all of a sudden the door was yanked open and there stood Liz's three
brothers. I started yelling for them to get out and leave us alone, nothing
doing. One of them grabbed me and drug me out of the car, all the while Liz
was screaming for them to leave. These redneck boys decided to take it upon
them selves to be the gardian and self proclaimed protectors of they'er
sisters virginity. Well her virginity was long gone before this. Mark, the
older of the three said that it was time that they tought me a lesson, and
that I would never be able to have my way with any other girls. At that point
I really got scared cause I knew what these boys were capable of doing. As I
struggled to ge free Doug hit me square in the jaw, knocking me out cold. When
I came too, I was tied to a tree, hands behind and around the tree and my
leggs tied wide apart. Liz was crieing and pleading with her brothers to stop,
but it had gone to far and there was no stopping them with what they had in
mind for me. Carl took out a knife, opened it and walked up to me, and said "
you'll never fuck anybody elses sister" Then he reached down, grabbed me by
the balls, pulled them out tight, and with one quick slice, which I hardly had
time to feel, he held my balls and sac up for all to see. They all started
cheering accept Liz, who got sick. Doug said it was his turn, Carl handed him
the knife. Doug grabbed me by the cock, and as I was pleading for him not to
do it, he came down with a hard thrust, and took off about half of my dick. I
passed out. When I came too again every body was gone. I don't know how I did
it but I managed to wiggle free. I was bleeding profuselly. I took a towel
that I had in the car and made a badage as best as I could. I found my keys
and drove to town. As I approched a red light< I could feel my self passing
out again. This time when I woke up,I was in the hospital. There were doctors
and a policeman. He asked me what had happened to me, and I related the story
to him and told him who had done this to me. The next day the tree brothers
were arrested and I pressed charges. After the trial, the tree were sentanced
to four years each. I moved away and never saw Liz again. After all this and
all these years, I cann't for the life of me understand why a man would
willingly be castrated. I know that it happens all the time, amd to each is
own. But I am still bitter about not haveing a choise in what happened to me.
Now I'm a eunuch but not by choise. Since I was castrated, I've never had sex.
Infact, I live alone, go to work, and enjoy alot of other things in life, sex
not being one of them. I tryed for awhile to have a relationship with women,
but once they found out that I had no balls and only half a dick, that ended
that. Men that willingly give up they'er balls or men that lose them dew to
medical and health reasons are one thing, but to be castrated against your
will is absolutlly unjustified. The four year in jail that they spent dosen't
start to justify what I've had to live all my life. If you've been castrated
willingly and are happy being a eunuch, then that's great, and best to you.
But I'm a bitter and unhappy eunuch.
* * *
` |
For Want of One, Ch. 1 and 2 | NULLIFICATION, MINOR | Time Paradox theme - an engineer in the future working outside Time finds his existence erased when an ancestor is sold as a slaveboy and gelded. | "There is a theory in quantum mechanics that says that everything
that CAN occur, DOES occur . . . in alternate quantum universes . .
. " - Data, Star Trek TNG.
"For want of that one fox, a man died and all of his unborn sons
with him, and all of their sons . . . " - Ray Bradbury
All eyes were fixed on the massive monitor which in itself was
the south wall of the viewing chamber. Very slowly, a small white
dot in the center of the enormous screen begain to grow, expanding
its way ever so slowly to the edges. The dark screen changed with
the dot's growth from nothing but cold, black, lifeless pixels to a
soft pale gray as it heated up and slowly came online. Of the few
spectators and many technicians, there was hardly a breath drawn as
the rather feminine voice of the mainframe computer softly spoke,
"System initialization in progress. Temporal field generators
powering up. Power flow stable. Backup systems ready. Standby
for imaging sequencing in ten, nine, eight, seven . . . "
The countdown continued as the tension heightened. Besides
the research team, only the President of the New Western Alliance
and his staff were in attendance. For the past ten years, at the
cost of uncounted billions of dollars and not a few lives as well,
not to mention raw materials, this experiment had been kept
shrouded in utmost secrecy. It was far too dangerous for
information on this project to leak out. Certainly the public
would be more than alarmed, but for the sake of knowledge and the
desire for history not to repeat itself, the project had gone on.
It had taken planet Earth far too long to recover from the last
series of wars that had done away with the many nations and
factions that had once broken up the map. Now there was only the
Western Alliance - consisting of what had once been Canada, the
USA, Mexico and Central / South America, and the Eastern Coalition
which was composed of what was left.
What was left was not much except for scorched wastelands and
over two billion dead. Centuries had passed, rulers had come and
gone, and slowly the Earth had healed. The West had taken pity on
those it had fought to destroy, and the rebuilding had been slow.
For the time being, however, it seemed Mankind had learned from his
latest greatest mistake. And the culmination of that learning was
about to come online - The Temporal Imaging Viewer.
The Viewer itself looked rather like a large video monitor,
but the complex which held the Viewer was vast, taking up an area
very nearly the size of New York City. Security was tight, and
miraculously, the entire project had been a success. Cover stories
had been successful, and the computer was counting down. Only
seconds remained.
From his position at the Imaging Main Console, Temporal
coordinator Kaelen Laws held his breath as the computer said, " . .
. two . . . one . . . engaging all systems, Viewer online." There
was increased humming noise as the power generators came up to full
strength and the computer requested a timeframe. It seemed to be
working, but no one was moving or reacting.
The screen glowed with a pale blue cast as Kaelen spoke
directly to his console, "Computer, set temporal scanners to
timeframe 1945 AD, country - Japan, city of Hiroshima - engage !"
"Factoring quantum variables, " the computer responded.
"Is it working or not ? " the President breathed.
"Working, " the computer responded, as Kaelen opened his mouth
then closed it.
Then there came a roaring sound which turned all heads again
towards the massive monitor. The soft blue glow had been replaced
by an overcast sky and the strange sound of a very old style
airplane's engines. On the bottom of the monitor was a city,
people moving, green grass, trees . . . and a whistling sound
beginning as well. Suddenly there was a bright flash of light as
the watching men jerked their hands up to cover their eyes and then
a roiling mushroom-shaped cloud that was all to familiar. The
atomic bomb had just detonated and wiped out the city, signalling
the beginning of the end of World War 2.
The cloud lingered on the screen and began to dissipate.
"Computer, discontinue imaging, " Kaelen ordered.
The screen reverted to soft blue as the whining sound of the
power generators relaxed.
"Dear God, " the President whispered, "it works !"
"Yes sir, " Kaelen replied, "What would you like to see next ?"
Kaelen Laws was a young man who had devoted his entire life to
learning. As a child he had learned quickly and was soon found to
be a prodigy. He graduated college and earned his PhD in physics
and applied sciences by the age of seventeen. By the time he was
twenty, he was already deep into designing his dream machine - the
Temporal Imaging Viewer. He hoped, someday, to be able to gaze
into the past and see what had actually happened at any given
moment of history. It had come to him in a dream when he was still
a child, perhaps twelve or thirteen. In this dream he had seen the
monitor, so massive, and pictures of history playing across it at
his command. From that point on, it had become his obsession.
Now four years of hard work later, standing alone in his
apartment at the Complex, the President and his staff retired for
the night after the demonstrations, that dream had become reality.
The Past itself was his for the looking, and all the mysteries of
modern history would soon be mysteries no more. Unable to relax,
Kaelen headed for the bathroom and decided to take a shower. He
disrobed slowly, his mind racing from one time frame to another.
What should he look back on first ? Kennedy ? Marylin Monroe ?
The near Y2K disasters ? There was so much to see and reveal, as
his mind wandered further. He startled himself as he turned to
adjust the bathroom's climate controls, seeing his nude reflection
in the full length mirror just off to his side. He was a man of
slight build, not overly muscular yet well proportioned. His skin
was a pale shade of brown and his hair - had it not been harshly
buzzed back to stubble as he preferred - would have been jet black
and straight. He rubbed his hand over his stubbly scalp and
remembered.
He had grown up in foster care, taking the name of his
eventually adoptive family. His family had fled the East from
somewhere near Iran, formerly Persia in ancient times, generations
ago he had been told. His adoptive father had told him that his
natural great-great-too-many-greats-grandfather had surely seen the
possibility of a better life for his family in the West and
immigrated. Kaelen sighed, wishing he remembered more clearly.
His parents had both died in a power plant explosion when he was
only a toddler, and his best memories of them were sketchy at
best. His family that he knew had been close friends of his
parents and had taken him in as their own after a fostering
period. He resolved that first thing in the morning, he would have
to ask the Temporal Imager to look them up for him. He was, after
all, the last of his line and even though he bore the name "Laws"
out of love for his adoptive family, he longed for more.
He realized then that he thought about his given birth-name in
years and didn't readily recall it.
"Maybe I did build this thing for me and me alone, " he mused.
An errant itch distracted him from his reverie and he
scratched at his ribs which showed, when he stretched his arms up,
through his brown skin. His stomach was flat and his limbs well
conditioned and a bit long. The itch taken care of, he stretched
himself and continued to take in his lithe reflection. He was not
unhappy with his body, although he seldom had time to exercise it.
He was a bit annoyed at the erection that was beginning in his
average-sized penis and absently scratched his balls. "Maybe
later, " he muttered, having no time for sex either. In fact, his
studies and his work - no, his obsession - had kept him a virgin up
to his age of 24. There was no excess fat to be seen on his
frame, and many of the lab techs, male and female alike, were often
noticed gazing at him when they thought he was not looking. Kaelen
enjoyed this secretly, although he was too caught up in his work to
persue any of that foolishness. In fact, he could have been a
eunuch and not even noticed it for all the thought he gave to sex.
He stared into his own face staring back at him. The deep eyes,
almost black instead of brown, and so very shapely, looked back at
him and seemed to ask, "What is it ?"
For a moment, he thought he heard someone reply.
"Idiot, " he mumbled and stepped into the shower.
Kaelen arrived early the next morning at the Imaging Chamber
and immediately set to work. He checked and double checked all the
readouts, checked for when the President would be back in for
another look, and made sure everything was perfect. The vast
monitor itself was spotless, the room immaculate. Power supply was
steady and pure, and the temporal regulators and field generators
were in good working order. Yet something just felt wrong. For
some reason he remember gazing at himself in the mirror the night
before and found himself thinking back to the first childhood dream
of the Viewer. He sat down at his console and called out to the
security guard on duty at the door.
"Kowalski here, " came the voice over the speaker.
Who in the hell was Kowalski ?
"Uh, where's Hanson, Mr. ? " Kaelen asked.
"Hanson who ? " came the curious voice.
"Never mind. How are things out there ?"
"Looks like an empty waiting room, sir, " the guard answered.
"Fine. Let me know when our guests arrrive."
"Will do, Mr. Laws, " the guard replied.
Kaelen was disturbed. The first shift guard was Hanson. He
had been on duty for all the time that Kaelen had been here
overseeing the building of the Viewer. He was relieved by Porter,
then Newport at night and Latham and Smith were the part-timers on
their days off. Wondering what to make of it, Kaelen asked the
computer. "There is no Hanson on record employed by this facility
at the moment, " the soft feminine voice replied. A chill passed
through Kaelen and he shuddered. "Computer, any variances in the
temporal systems ?"
"Random negligible variances occur periodically, " the
computer replied.
Kaelen remembered that the system had only been running for a
day then thought of something.
"Computer, compile all these variances and graph according to
date and time with respect to X and Y axes and severity with
respect to Z and show on main monitor." Kaelen prayed that the
thought passing through his mind was wrong.
"Working, " the computer replied.
Kaelen waited and began to bite the nail of his left index
finger.
Suddenly the graph jumped to life on the monitor as the
computer compiled all its data and drew the picture for him. What
Kaelen saw literally made him cringe and grab hold of his console.
There, on the screen before him, was a graphic representation of
what looked like the beginnings of a wormhole. "What in hell is
that ?" he thought out loud.
"Insufficient data, " the computer replied.
Kaelen jumped.
"Theorize, dammit, " the shouted.
"Temporal disruptions and / or breaches, " the computer
replied.
The graphic was shifting as he watched, slowly shifting.
"Theorize as to source, " Kaelen ordered.
"Minute deviations of quantum variables accumulating at one
point to form a breach."
Kaelen shivered again. "Cause ? " he asked.
"This system's main temporal core."
Kaelen Laws slumped in his chair and exhaled violently. His
skin was covered in goosebumps and he was trembling. He pressed a
red button on the main control panel and tried his best to keep his
voice level. "Mr. President, we have a problem, " he said.
When they all arrived moments later, Kaelen set about to
explaining to what was going on. He had called up a schematic of
the Viewer and its power supply, which was directly under the huge
monitor. Then he had the computer add graphics for the flow of
power in relation to the physical construction of the complex.
Then he ordered the computer to superimpose the graphics from his
earlier work. No one said a word as they all stared at the monitor
and its display.
"Does this mean what I think it does ? " the President asked.
"I'm afraid so, sir , " Kaelen answered, "The Viewer has not
only the ability to look back through time - it is EXEMPT from
time. The laws of physics as we know them don't seem to apply to
this chamber."
"So time isn't moving in here ? " one of the staffers asked.
"Oh it's moving alright, " Kaelen responded, "It just isn't
moving like it should. You see, these minute variances the
computer picked up seem to be happening at random. For all we
know, they always have. But when the temporal core came online,
that surge of power changed things. There's a field around this
chamber now that gives us the ability to look back, and God knows
what else, but it's drawing in those little disruptions like a
magnet."
"So you don't really know ? " the President asked.
Kaelen shook his head. "I didn't expect this, sir."
One of the staffers spoke up then. "Sir, we can't just pull
the plug on this - the cost . . . "
The President nodded. "Mr. Laws, you and your computer have
48 hours to figure this out and find out what the hell it's doing
here. Meanwhile, my staff and I and some of your techs are going
to go out and bone up on temporal mechanics as well. This project
cannot fail now."
"Yes sir, " Kaelen replied.
Kaelen worked through the night with the computer, tracking
the variables. By morning he had come to realize that Time itself
was analagous to the ever-moving waves of the ocean. What man
perceived as Reality floated like a boat atop this ocean,
unaffected by the waves until one got big enough to cause some
damage. Then things changed. With time, however, Kaelen thought
that no one would notice the changes if they were changed right
along with it. If you fell of the boat, you swam and hoped someone
threw you a life preserver or a rope. You got back on and went on
your way. Then he thought of the sand on the beach. The waves
rolled in and changed it, but the sand was still sand, just a bit
moved around. And the sand had no clue that it had been moved. It
was about 3 AM when he realized where Hanson was, or rather, was
NOT.
At some point between the time he had entered his "exempt"
working chamber atop the temporal core and the time he had paged
Hanson, a rather large amount of variances had come together around
the field of the room. Those variances had carried Hanson off
somewhere to realms of nonexistence.
Still Kaelen worked. His dream was rapidly turning to
nightmare as he struggled with the problem. 48 hours would not be
enough time. Then it occurred to him, all he had to do was look
back and see. He called up the time of his entry into the chamber
and replayed it. There on the monitor before him, he watched the
image of Hanson suddenly change into Kowalski. Nothing else moved.
"There's got to be a logical pattern to this then, " he
thought aloud.
The computer agreed and began recompiling its data. By the
time the sun came up and the President and his staff and the day
crew with it, Kaelen thought he had the answer. All he had to do
was make them believe him or the project was doomed.
The President had a bemused look on his face as he sat in
Kaelen's control room and pondered what the young scientist had
told him. He thought he understood it. "Let me see if I've got
this straight, " he began, "Time is not constant. The past
changes. These changes result in different timelines that we don't
notice because we are IN that timeline, yet the other timelines and
the other 'us' in THEM still exist. Somewhere out there is your
missing Hanson guard that none of us remember, yet you do since you
were in HERE, in the Chamber when he popped out of this Reality ?
And if something out THERE changes while we are in here, we
remember the past as it was BEFORE it changed yet no one else does
?"
Kaelen swallowed hard and nodded. But he had more and decided
that now was a good time.
He replayed the changing with Hanson three times for the
assembled men.
"Hanson's disappearing is what I like to call a 'breakpoint',
" he said, "it's where the deviations come together and change
something that we in HERE can see. No one out there is going to
remember Hanson because that breakpoint took him away, and altered
them with it. It goes back to the old belief that Hawking came up
with in the 1980's or so : everything that can happen does happen
in parallel universes that offshoot from another. Rather primitive
way to put it, but he was on the right track."
"So . . . " the President stated, "since there isn't a damn
thing we can do about Time and it's little changes, I guess we
might just as well live with it. All we've done here is proove
it. Continue your work, Mr. Laws. We have to. And by the way,
see if you can find out if there are any other Timelines out there
where the world didn't almost go straight to hell with war this
last time. That will be all."
The group nodded and and got up to leave Kaelen to work in
peace. Although he had been up for almost two days straight with
only brief naps at the console, he was too excited to sleep. They
were even actually considering letting word of the Viewer be made
public ! With that thought in mind, he decided to log out and go
home for a bit. He was certainly entitled. As he got up to leave
and approached the door, the computer said, "Don't forget your
briefcase."
Kaelen grinned in spite of himself. The computer he had
designed took things so literally, even if it was up to its
coprocessors in quantum deviations. "Thank you, " he replied.
"Contact me if you need my assistance, " the soft voice spoke
as the door closed.
The next few weeks were very eventful. The Viewer was
publically announced and the following media circus kept Kaelen
busy for days showing off his creation. Demonstrations were given,
and over and over again he assured the media that, no, time travel
was NOT possible and he did not plan on it being possible. Coping
with the "breakpoint - change" factor was enough for everyone
involved. What he did not mention was the dayshift guard Hanson /
Kowalski Paradox. He stated over and over for the record that no
significant changes had been observed, but yes when one occurred he
would happily publicize it.
Finally, after what felt like forever, things quieted down
enough for Kaelen to keep a promise to himself.
It was late one Thursday afternoon when he asked the computer to
trace down his date of birth and show him the images. Since it was
relatively close to the present, the images came up in no time. He
was, however, unprepared for how it would affect him. There they
were, right in front of him. The screen was so clear and lifelike
he felt he could reach out and touch them. His mother was in
labor, then he was born, then they were a family and his parents
were holding him and staring into each others' eyes. Kaelen put
his head down and cried a bit, ordering the computer to stop and
save the last image and download to his own portable unit. When he
got home, he would send the image to his adoptive parents, so that
they might have a memory of their friends whose son they had raised.
Kaelen was just about to call it a day when the computer
announced, in what sounded like alarm, "Deviations increasing
exponentially, massive breakpoint detected !"
Startled by the unexpected outburst, Kaelen dropped his
briefcase and demanded, "When ?!"
"Circa 589 BC, Ancient Middle East, current Eastern Coalition
Dead Zone, ancient city of Babylon."
2
Kaelen dropped into his chair at the main console and began
summoning up the graphic manually, letting the computer cope with
the massive disruptions it was detecting. In the past few weeks,
nothing had happened that meritted any major concern but this was,
judging from the look of the graph, a disaster. He could hear the
whine of the temporal field generators running harder than ever
before, and the air itself felt different. Whatever it was, it was
terribly wrong. Time, it seemed, had taken a nosedive and was
trying to take the rest of them out with it. Then the phone rang.
It was almost funny, and Kaelen had to stifle a laugh as he
punched the receive button. "Now is NOT a good time, " he shouted.
"What in hell is going on there, Laws ?" an exasperated voice
demanded, "We're showing power consumption on your temporal core is
up by a factor of more than a million ! Is the computer alright ?"
"I have no idea sir, " Kaelen replied calmly now, "it detected
a massive breakpoint somewhere around 589 BC in the Middle East and
literally went into siezures over it. It's compiling now. I think
it's going to be bad, sir, very bad. You may want to come over."
"I'm on the cell phone and coming up the elevator now with my
entourage', " the President stated.
"Good idea, get under the umbrella before the rain gets HERE
if you know what I mean."
"I know, I know. I just hope the Alliance is still HERE when
I get THERE !"
It was seconds later that the door to the Chamber burst open
and the President and his staff along with a few media hounds
entered. The computer was still compiling, the monitor was dark,
and the whine was near deafening. Kaelen showed them the graph on
his console's viewer, at a loss to explain it. Suddenly the whine
lowered to normal levels. "Breakpoint detected and confirmed, "
the computer informed them, "Imaging beginning in three, two, one .
. . Imaging !"
The immense monitor snapped to life, showing them an ancient
city on a fertile plain. There were tall buildings made of stone
beneath a clear blue sky that seemed to stretch forever. The
people all looked like Kaelen and they all realized that it was the
area of ancient Persia, the stuff of fantasy, that they were
seeing.
There were mostly men on the streets, but some women and many
children. They were, for the most part, dressed in turbans and
other headwear and long robes of various colors. There were
animals in the marketplace, much business and trading. Kaelen felt
a pang from deep within himself as he looked at the ultimate
history of his race.
They were looking into the once-greatness of a place that was
now a desolate ruin.
There were gardens, landscapings, and wondrous sights too many
to name. Since time did not seem to matter while they were in the
Chamber, the President and staff and the hangers-on all became so
taken by it that they almost forgot their urgency in coming. Even
Kaelen found his mind drifting back to that simple time when even
the wheel had not yet lost its novelty. Yet somewhere in all this
splendor they were seeing was the reason they had come - the very
thing that set off the computer's warnings of massive disruptions.
"Hard to believe something that happened so long ago could
affect us today, " the President breathed, hardly loud enough to be
heard.
"Agreed, sir, " Kaelen replied.
"But what IS it ?" the President asked.
The computer, as if in answer, zoomed the image to the
marketplace and did a hard left turn to what appeared to be a
public stage. There was a very well-dressed man on the stage,
waving his arms and shouting to the vast crowd who waved their arms
in reply and shouted out numbers. Behind the wildly gesticulating
man on the stage were several other men, a few women, and about six
boys. All of them were naked and had their hands tied behind their
backs. Their ankles were hobbled to permit standing and very slow,
measured walking only. The men and boys all had their heads
shaved, eyes downcast. Each had a thick leather thong tied around
his head clenched between his teeth as well. The women had their
hair and no gags, yet none of them looked up either.
"Slave market, " one of the staffers replied, drawing startled
looks from his peers, "Uh, history was my second major you see."
Everyone nodded and agreed and looked on at the Viewer.
One by one, the slaves - the women first - were sold off to
the highest bidders. They were led away by their new owners to
face their lives of servitude. "They have little hope of freedom,
" the historically inclined staffer, Benson, said, "the best they
can hope for is a kind master."
"Pity, " Kaelen replied, feeling a racial empathy to these
people. Somehow, he took it as a personal insult, although racism
had been unheard of in the West for centuries. People were simply
people, not a color.
When the women were all gone, the bidding began on the men.
This took more time, higher bids, and a bit of insulting and some
calling of the slaver's guards to calm things down. The men
brought high prices, some almost as high as the most beautiful of
the women had. They were all muscular, lean, and darker than most
from the time spent in the sun without full clothing. Their shaved
heads reflected the ancient sun almost out of the Viewer's monitor
and into the watching eyes of the nervous spectators. Kaelen
shuddered at the sight, remembering staring at his own reflection
that night that the Viewer had proven a success. He remembered
hearing something and calling himself an idiot. But what had it
been ?
Still they stared and the computer kept its seemingly endless
show running.
One by one the men were led down the steps when suddenly
Benson shouted, "Freeze image !"
The show paused.
There were gasps from all watching as they stared with new
fascination at the image before them. The shows had stopped with a
man being led down the steps, an iron collar with a length of chain
around his neck and his hands still bound. The hobbles had been
removed so that he could follow his new master home. What had
gotten Benson's attention and now everyone else's was that where
the slave's genitals should have been, there was nothing but a
smooth, paler colored area and a small hole.
"Eunuch, " Benson supplied helpfully, "It was big business
then and for centuries to come. Without his balls, a man is
qualified for all sorts of work. Without his penis, he's qualified
for even more delicate duties. Eunuchs were in demand for harem
guards especially, since the noble who owned him knew that he
couldn't DO anything to his women."
"Do continue, " Kaelen said sarcastically, having
unconsciously closed his knees together.
"I don't think there's really that much to it, Mr. Laws, "
Benson continued, "You cut off a man's genitals, what's he got left
? He's a slave, no family, no way to have his own family, so he
gives his loyalty without stint to the man who can make his own
life better if he works well. What the master wants, the master
gets. Many a eunuch became rich and powerful that way, and many
rose to even official positions and wielded great power in affairs
of state. I mean, really, they didn't have anything else to do . .
. "
"This is all well and good, " the President interrupted, "but
what we need to know is what happened that set the computer off.
We need to see the breakpoint that brought us all here before we
leave ! For all we know, we may not have anything to go back to
outside this room."
Again, as if answering the call automatically, the computer
resumed its imaging. The monitor once again went back to the slave
block and this time there was only one slave remaining. He was boy
of about eleven years of age, dark skinned and lean. His head was
also shaved, but his eyes - not downcast like the others - were
looking out over the crowd and almost looking into the future.
Kaelen felt he knew those eyes. A chill passed through him as he
heard that voice from long ago saying, through the monitor, "What
am I bid for this handsome young piece of Persian boyhood ?"
There were shouts from the crowd. Hands waved bags that
certainly contained gold coinage. More shouting. The well-dressed
auctioneer called for civility. The guards stepped forward,
pushing the hobbled and naked boy with them. One of them placed a
hand on the boy's shaved scalp and forced his head down. Someone
in the crowd called out, "No, let us see his marvelous face !" The
bids went higher. Finally, a very well-dressed man and two burly
attendants stepped forward. The man reached into his robe and
pulled out a very large pouch and placed it in the auctioneer's
waiting hands. His face went pale as he opened the bag.
It was clear from his look that sale had ended. The boy had been
bought.
Slowly, the crowed began to break up and head back to other
areas of the marketplace. The computer zoomed the image even
closer to only the stage as the wealthy man and the auctioneer
exchanged some documents. "He is a very good one, " the auctioneer
agreed.
"I have not seen one like him a long time, " the wealthy man
replied.
"Slave boys are sold by the hundreds here over the year."
The wealthy man shook his head. "There is something about the
way he looks. His face, his body. He is so well proportioned and
attractive. Look at him ! Untie his hands, yes, that's it, look
at these ! Slim, long fingered, soft. No hint of a beard yet and
certainly a high piping voice. He will be the envy of my court
with those looks !"
"My Lord, " the auctioneer nearly choked, "You have a fine
taste."
The wealthy one agreed and the attendants took the hobbles
from the silent boy's ankles and lifted him by the upper arms to
move him closer. The boy looked his new master in the face, an act
unheard of that certainly would have earned any other slave a good
beating. He chewed at his leather gag a bit then looked at the
huge men holding him.
Uncounted centuries later, Kaelen Laws looked back at the
slave boy, the boy with his own face that had looked at him a few
weeks ago from his bathroom mirror. He got up and moved towards
the Viewer, almost daring to touch its flawless surface. The
attendants still held the boy up, his bare feet dangling almost a
meter off the stage. He was still staring into the eyes of his new
Master.
"There is one other thing, " the Master asked the auctioneer.
"Of course, my Lord !" the auctioneer almost shouted.
"I believe it is my right if I find fault with my purchase
that I may demand it be remedied ?"
The auctioneer nodded in disbelief. "But he is so perfect,
excellency !"
"He has one flaw, good merchant."
Standing next to Kaelen, Benson the historian / staffer
groaned.
The auctioneer looked puzzled.
The attendants holding the boy up looked him over and grinned
evilly.
Still the boy did not take his gaze from staightforward,
straight into Kaelen's Viewer.
A voice came over the intercom, but no one took his gaze from
the Viewer, or rather, the boy on it.
"Power Generator Control to Imaging Chamber, Mr. President, is
Temporal Coordinator Smith there ?"
"He is a boy, good merchant. An intact boy. Geld him for me
!" the Master demanded.
"BREAKPOINT !" the computer shouted in alarm. |
My Master: My Loss, His Gain | GAY, NULLIFICATION | My master required my total commitment, including altering my body. But I never questioned what would become of my discarded parts. | ` My Master: my loss, his gain `
by Allen Baker
When we met over the internet in a gay leather chat room, I knew I had at last
found my partner for life. He was everything I needed in a master. And he said
I was everything he was looking for in a slave. As always, he was right. I
just didn't know what total commitment to him would entail.
It only took him a few days to convince me to travel the three hours for a
week end trial run. It was the most satisfying three days of my life. I had
experienced many play slave sessions in the ten years since high school. But
they had been play acting compared to this. Fun, but play acting. This was the
real thing. Master was everything that called out to my soul. Everything that
compelled me to willingly submit all. He was the first and only top to totally
gain my trust, my allegiance, my loyalty. From the moment he ordered me to
strip, I was lost to his will. I wanted nothing for myself, only to please.
Only to obey. Only to serve and please.
I wasn't even dismayed when I first saw the contents of his leather jock. His
thick but very short dick was beautiful to me. While most tops flaunt their
endowments and use them for control and power, he used his personality
instead. And that made him beautiful. Even his grape-sized balls rolled and
slithered sinuously about my mouth. I loved being entrusted with his precious
maleness. I loved providing him pleasure.
Unlike many of the tops in my experiences, he never punished my genitals,
never caused them harm. But he did challenge them, stretch them, test them. My
back and ass were another story entirely. His whip and flog were exercised
there frequently and hard. My skin tingled and glowed and grew raw under his
expert arm. I wept tears of joy to please him. My pain was freely granted to
enhance his pleasure.
And at the end of the weekend, I sobbed to think of departing. I longed to
avoid the inevitable separation. And then he did the unthinkable – he offered
my a permanent place in his household. He warned that it would mean change for
me. That I would be altered to meet his desires. That if I came to him again,
it would mean no turning back, that I would be owned by him forever. I wanted
to shout "yes" immediately, but he clamped his hand over my mouth and pushed
me into my car. He named a date two months down the road and said that I was
to end my current life as it was and show up then as his permanent toy, or
never to contact him again. There was to be no additional communication
between us before that date. Either return then, or not.
The next two months were a whirlwind of emotions and actions. I never even
considered not accepting his offer. I wanted to throw my belongings into the
car and drive right back. But I knew that would be defying his orders. That I
could not do. As the days wore on, I realized how astute he really was. It did
indeed take every moment of the two months to tie up all the loose ends. Quit
a job. Terminate a rental lease. Dispose of my belongings and furniture. Pay
off bills. Close out bank accounts. Plan to disappear. It was work and all
necessary to effect a leaving that would not engender questions and
investigation. But I willingly did it all, knowing that my true Master
awaited.
Finally the day arrived. I had sold my car, so I hopped on the Greyhound Bus
with only the clothes on my back and a duffle bag. On the ride there, I was
excited and aroused as never before. I was leaving the old me behind. That
person was gone, never to be seen again. And there was no new me. I was
becoming a possession. I stared at the duffle bag and marveled at how little
there really was of that old youth that had become distilled into a single
duffle bag. And thinking about its content, I realized that my new master
would probably think even that trivial and unworthy of being kept. Except my
cash. Rather, his cash. That would become his as well. I emitted a huge sigh
of contentment and acceptance. It was such a satisfying and stimulating
emotion, that I was shocked to find that it had triggered an abrupt climax.
The inner lining of my cutoff jeans squished with the result of that
realization that there no longer existed a me.
As the cab pulled away from the curb, he answered the door and stepped back,
unsurprised by my arrival. He had judged me well. He had known that I would be
there. He ordered me to strip and put everything into the duffle bag. He put
it into the front hall closet. That's the last I ever saw of it. He took me to
the garage and placed a leather collar about my neck. I expected him to
padlock it on. Instead, he placed a ring through the clasp and welded it shut.
Nothing else he could have done would have more symbolized the permanence of
our relationship.
For the next week I was bound, and beaten, and abused. For the next week I was
the recipient of his sexual attention. I was trained to serve his desires. It
was a glorious week indeed.
Then the following Saturday there was a knock at the door. He ordered me to
open it. I was sure that he must have expected the visitor, as I was naked as
I had been since my arrival. I did not question, just obeyed. The man on the
porch was startled into nearly dropping the bag he carried at the vision of
his reception. He quickly recovered and entered. Master greeted him warmly and
asked his opinion of my qualifications. I stood still as the man leaned
slightly and grasped my cock. He examined it carefully, not as a sexual
object, but more like a scientist. He paid equal attention to the sack below
it with their large, tender contents. Finally he turned back to master.
He smiled and said that I appeared to be an excellent choice. Then he said
that we might as well begin immediately. Master motioned for me to carry the
man's bag and led us to the basement playroom. The two of them ignored me
while they moved two medical play-bondage tables side by side. Then the man
took his bag and began to pull out objects onto a rolling cart that had been
swept clean of our toys.
Master motioned to the one table, and I climbed on, eager to find out what new
game was to be played. Master bound me to the table and reminded me that he
had promised I would be altered for his needs and pleasure. I immediately
began to harden while I listened to his words and watched the mounting pile of
medical implements on the cart. Master said that I would be castrated and made
into a nullo for his pleasure. That was the only time I nearly panicked with
him. But I realized I had been warned and had made a commitment. I looked into
his eyes and saw that my willing acceptance would bring him pleasure. And that
was all I truly cared about. His pleasure would be mine. I smiled and nodded
my compliance with his will.
Then master surprised me by beginning to strip down, too. Soon he was nude and
seated on the table beside mine. He lay back and stretched out as the doctor
shot me with anesthesia. That was all I remember of the events. But I have the
video of the proceedings. Watching that video the first time during the
recuperation period was how I learned everything that had occurred.
Even now when I review it, I find it incredible arousing. The doctor,
skillfully sliced my sack and balls off and carefully sealed my wounds. What
he did next shocked me. He turned to my master on the adjoining table and
sliced open his sack, too. Then he removed master's testicles and replaced
them with my own! He used my cords to add on to master's existing ones. Then
he used my scrotum to graft onto master's, more than doubling the hang of his
sack.
Next the doctor returned to me and carefully separated my cock from my groin.
Turning to master, he meticulously severed the head of his prick and dropped
in into the waiting jar with his nuts. Then he grafted my eight-incher onto
the end of master's three inch shaft. The resulting eleven inches was
astounding. There was my master endowed with a remarkable dick and low-hanging
bull balls. He was gorgeous. And I was proud to have been the means of
correcting nature's mistake in under supplying this forceful man with his
legitimate due.
The weeks stretched on as we both grew stronger. Master had hired a male nurse
to assist us during this time. And I had to rely on his updating reports of
master's healing progress. Obviously master had no intention of seeing me
until he was fit to perform.
Finally, the day came that the male nurse announced that he was leaving and
that I had been ordered to report to the playroom. I was very nervous as I
moved down the stairs. Would master no longer find the new me appealing? Would
I be cast aside now that I had assisted him to reach his goal?
My doubts disappeared when I entered the playroom. There was master in his
leather glory. Hooded, harnessed. His muscular legs glad in chaps. His booted
feet planted far apart. And it all focused attention on the bulging leather
pouch at his crotch. I knelt at his feet and bowed my head in awe.
Soon he had ordered to me to tongue clean his leathers. And of course the
pouch was the last item to receive my attention. By then we were both panting
with desire. Master snapped off the pouch, and I nearly swooned to see the
real man he had become. His new dick swelled with our combined measure. It
rose and grew and gleamed in its glory. Below it swung a hefty sack filled
with what once was mine. I breathed deep and took in our smell. He ordered,
and I opened my mouth. I grew faint to feel my own cock enter my mouth. No,
our cock. Slowly he fed it to me. His forceful power was the same, but now his
manly equipment matched. I had to relearn to control my gag reflex. This man
deserved it. His lengthy pouch bounced against my chin and swung in to tap
against my throat. I gloried in the feel of him. He moaned his pleasure, and
it thrilled me all the more.
Soon his cock was slimy with our combined spit and precum. He pulled out and
bent me over the bench, tying me in place. And then his new, raging meat
entered my waiting ass. Its girth and length spread me to new dimensions. Its
proportions hit spots never yet touched. And those glorious balls slapped up
onto my smooth, empty crotch. With each prod, they caressed my groin. And his
endurance matched his new measure. On and on and on we rode until finally I
felt that combined sack contract. Those familiar balls swelled and pulled up.
That already huge cock expanded and grew rocklike. And with one final plunge
he buried us and sent us both into orgasmic ecstasy. My cum poured through his
body and into my waiting tunnel. We were one and always would be.
* * * |
Body Enhancements By Giselle | PENECTOMY, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION, Other: female "circumcision;" forced chastity | None | My business card reads: Body Enhancements by Giselle—Call 470-8899
For a Private Consultation. Anybody in possession of one will
have been referred by a client, so there really is no need to
elaborate. Besides which, it would be impossible to adequately
convey what I do on such a small piece of paper.
I started out as a surgical nurse, but my interest in, or should I
say fixation with, the more intense aspects of the BDSM lifestyle
led me to my present occupation. Self-actualization would best
describe the blending of professional and personal life that I
currently enjoy. I am able to indulge some of my most outrageous
fantasies and get paid very well to do it - my life is very good
indeed!
The clients I serve are mainly dominants and submissives (of both
sexes). I must admit to a slight preference for the nature of the
work I perform on the latter because it generally is more
extreme ... and it taps into my own leanings. Regardless of the
proclivities of individual customers, though, I throw my entire
being into ensuring that their experience is erotic and memorable.
To set the tone I greet clients at the door sans clothing - I am a
shameless exhibitionist. I have found that even gay men seem to
respond to the striking vision I project. I suspect that they have
never been in close proximity to a nude athletic woman whose body
is completely devoid of hair, with nipples that protrude through
pure-silver starbursts AND a vagina that is sewn closed and
decorated with a bright-red tattoo in the shape of a coiled
serpent. Indeed, how many people have?
This is a style that I have developed over a period of years,
borrowing liberally from modifications that I have been
commissioned to perform. The totally nude look was adopted early on
in my career after I completed the transformation of Mei, a
beautiful Thai submissive whose master wanted to strip away the
last vestiges of her vanity. The concept and end result so
impressed me that my knees were very shakey by the time I finished
cutting off her waist-length mane and shaving her head smooth. I
kissed away a tear that managed to make its way down her cheek and
told her of the effect the experience had on me ... and how
incredibly exotic it made her look. My promise to look just like
her the next time we met surprised and pleased her. She was very
happy to see that I kept my word in that regard when her master
brought her back several months later to have her labia pierced and
secured with a gold heart-shaped lock.
Over the years I have done many radical male-genitalia
modifications, everything from partial and complete penectomies to
castrations and nullifications. I'm not sure which I have enjoyed
the most; they have all been VERY special. Invariably I
spontaneously orgasm a time or two during the procedure. Typically
I vacillate between reveling in exercising the power to alter a
man's sexuality and being envious that I am not the one having it
done to me. Oh yes, I am a perverse soul.
I used to dream fairly often that I was a man being nullified by my
clone. The dreams were always the same and EXTREMELY vivid. I was
led into a room lined floor to ceiling with mirrors; it was
illuminated only by the light of numerous strategically-positioned
candles - the most exquisite scent of roses filled the air and
soulful cello music emanated from hidden speakers. My clone
instructed me to lay upon several large velvet cushions and then
kneeled down and kissed me passionately. She gently and slowly
caressed my upper body with her tongue and finger tips, gradually
working her way down to my sex. Next she placed her mouth around
the tip of my member, causing it to engorge rapidly. Somehow she
managed to take the entire organ, and my testicles as well, into
that pleasure-giving orifice. My mind reeled with the intense
sensations she generated for what seemed like hours, until finally
I experienced a prolonged crescendo that rolled wave after wave
through my nervous system. When she raised her head from between my
legs I could see that my crotch was completely smooth; no trace
remained of my former gender.
Another common thread in my work involves enforced chastity.
Usually this entails piercing the genitalia and installing rings
and/or locks in such a manner that normal sex is impossible. One
submissive ended up with ten rings on each of her outer labia; the
rings on one side were overlapped with the ones on the other, and a
slender rod with a loop at the top and a lock on the bottom was
inserted through them all so that her sex was secured tightly. I
must admit that I thoroughly relished that assignment.
Often with male submissives some sort of device is attached in a
permanent or semipermanent fashion. The most common is a metal
sleeve held in place by a ring or stud connected to the glans. My
favorite type is a short and narrow stainless steel cage that fits
snugly over the flaccid penis and is surgically attached at its
base. One particularly inventive mistress had me suture the head of
her slave's penis to his perineum.
Perhaps the most unforgettable - and life-changing - job for me was
my first female "circumcision." Although it has essentially the
same net results, this procedure is much easier and involves much
less risk than castration. After a few judicious shots of
anesthesia, it simply requires excising the labia and suturing the
vaginal opening shut, leaving just enough room at the bottom for
bodily functions. Even removing the clitoris is only a single snip
and a few stitches. Easy as pie, if you can manage to keep your
hands steady, that is, which I had a very difficult time doing due
to the intensity of my sexual arousal.
For weeks I couldn't get the memory of that experience out of my
mind. I was only able to sleep fitfully, and when I did manage to
drop off I had intensely lurid dreams much like the nullification
dreams, only I was a woman in the dream and my clone sucked away my
female sex. I suppose deep down I knew from the moment I accepted
that project that I would end up modifying myself in the same way.
Once I consciously acknowledged what I was going to do, my libido
was constantly on fire, even though I masturbated almost hourly. By
the time I finally got around to it, my poor clitoris was raw. The
anesthesia was actually a relief. The operation itself was somewhat
surreal. I was surprisingly calm, and I had the distinct sensation
that I was working on someone else, despite the contortions I had
to go through on the harder to get to spots. I was able to focus
into reality when it came time to excise my clitoris. I stretched
it away from my body with one hand and clamped it at its base with
hemostats. Then I placed several stitches flush with the instrument
and paused ... savoring the moment. After finally making the
irreversible cut, a soothing orgasm rippled through my entire body;
that was followed by an intoxicating sense of total surrender.
I still orgasm spontaneously during some of the more arousing
modifications I perform, but normal clitoral or vaginal climaxes
aren't possible anymore. However, I do wear a butt plug a lot more
now, and when I REALLY get horny I work out a deal in-trade with a
client for anal sex - sometimes with a whipping session thrown in
for good measure. I have acquired quite a taste for anal and pain-
induced orgasms ... they're soooo sublimely submissive and
decadent.
In recent years the number of "circumcisions" that I perform has
increased tremendously. Since I work in the nude, I guess my own
obvious modification has made an impression on my clientele and
stirred their imaginations. Certainly having someone perform the
operation who has already had the procedure done herself is very
reassuring to clients. Personally, I like this turn of events
because increasing the ranks of female eunuchs is a treme |
Die drei Geschwister – Teil 3 | BI, MINOR | Das Wochenende ist noch nicht vorbei. | Kaum eine viertel Stunde war vergangen, da ging leise die Tür zu meinem
Schlafzimmer auf. Zu dumm, dass ich die Angewohnheit hatte, immer im totalen
Dunkel zu schlafen, so konnte ich nicht erkennen, wer sich da gerade in mein
Zimmer schlich. Das Licht wollte ich aber auch nicht einschalten, das hätte
die Spannung aus der Situation genommen.
Von den drei Mädels kannte sich nur Rita in meinem Haus etwas besser aus und
hatte auch schon einmal einen Blick in mein Schlafzimmer genommen. Sie wäre
also die einzige, die wüsste, wo in dem doch ziemlich großen Raum mein Bett
stand.
Jemand ging leise weiter, ich konnte den- oder diejenige nur leise atmen
hören. Rita würde es nicht sein, sie hätte mein Bett schon gefunden. Es
blieben neben den beiden Jungs also nur Nehle und Cindy. Ich war gespannt. Die
Schritte entfernten sich etwas von mir.
Leise stand ich auf und ging in Richtung des Atemgeräusches. Meine linke Hand
hielt ich in Höhe des möglichen Pos und die rechte Hand war bereit, die Person
sofort zu umklammern und den Mund zu zuhalten.
Ein schneller Griff und sofort war mir klar, wen ich in den Armen hielt.
Dieses Parfüm gehörte zu Cindy.
Sie war ziemlich erschrocken und ihr Herz raste, denn sie hatte sicherlich mit
vielem gerechnet, aber nicht damit, dass sie plötzlich von hinten geschnappt
würde. Gut, dass ich darauf vorbereitet war ihr direkt den Mund zu zuhalten,
sonst hätte sie einen Spitzen Schrei ausgestoßen und alle im Haus hätten sie
gehört.
So waren wir weiter ungestört.
Nachdem Cindy ihren Schrecken überstanden hatte, ging ihre Hand sofort zu
meiner Hose und sie griff nach meinem Schwanz. „Dafür musst Du mir büßen, mich
so zu erschrecken. Ich habe gedacht, mein Herz bleibt mir stehen“ fauchte sie
mich an.
„Was geisterst Du auch nachts noch hier herum? Um diese Uhrzeit solltest Du
längst schlafen. Wenn deine Ma mich demnächst fragt, ab wann Du geschlafen
hast, was soll ich ihr dann sagen?“ scherzte ich. Daraufhin krallte sie ihre
Fingernägel durch meine Unterhose in meinen Schwanz. „Wenn Du meinst, dass Du
dann die wahre Zeit sagen musst, dann sag ihr doch bitte auch gleich, dass Du
mich vergewaltigt und entjungfert hast, außerdem meine Titten gemolken und
deinen Schwanz in meinen Mund gesteckt hast.“ „Das ist so nicht richtig, Du
hast mir noch keinen Geblasen“ erwiderte ich. In dem Augenblick ging sie auf
die Knie, zog meine Hose herunter und steckte meinen Schwanz in ihren Mund.
„Jetzt schon“ kam es etwas gedämpft aus ihren vollen Mund.
Ich wusste wirklich nicht, was ich sagen sollte. Dieses Mädchen war trotz
ihres Alters einfach mit allen Wassern gewaschen. Sie nahm meinen Sack in ihre
Hände und knetete meine Eier. Ich hatte schon die ein oder andere jüngere Frau
gehabt, manche von Ihnen waren nur halb so alt wie ich, aber alle waren
mindestens 18 Jahre alt. Dieses Mädel war der Oberhammer und leider war sie
noch nicht volljährig.
Nach einer Weile nahm ich sie in die Arme und trug sie zu meinem Bett. Kaum
lag ich neben ihr, fing sie an, mir in mein Ohr zu flüstern „kann Du es mir
noch einmal mit der Zunge besorgen. Ich hatte damals das Gefühl, es zerreißt
mich, so geil war der Orgasmus danach.“ Sie wartete meine Antwort erst gar
nicht ab und setzte sich mit ihrer süßen Fotze auf mein Gesicht.
Nach einer Weile bäumte sie sich auf und stieß einen langen Seufzer aus und
ihr geiler Mösensaft lief über mein Gesicht. Sie sank neben mir erschöpft
zusammen.
Nach einem Augenblick der Ruhe fragte Sie mich „Was gibt es denn jetzt mit
Jan? Nicht, dass er mir wirklich leid tut, aber so als Eunuch wird sich sein
Leben sicherlich stark verändern.“ „Ich habe mir auch schon kurz Gedanken
darüber gemacht und wollte morgen Nehle dazu befragen. Ich hätte da auch eine
Idee, aber dazu müsste ich erst einmal wissen, wie seine Eltern so drauf
sind.“ „Jans Eltern sind tot, bei einem Autounfall ums Leben gekommen, als Jan
noch ein Säugling war. Er lebt bei Pflegeeltern, die sich nicht besonders um
ihn kümmern. Manchmal, so sagt Jan, hat er das Gefühl, dass seine Pflegeeltern
nur das Geld vom Jugendamt interessiert, das sie dann für Zigaretten und Bier
ausgeben, aber nicht für ihn.“
„Das ist ja perfekt“ entfuhr es mir“, dann werden wir wenig Probleme
bekommen.“ „Wieso, was hast Du denn vor mit ihm?“ fragte Cindy.
„Ich dachte, wenn er jetzt sowie so schon Eunuch ist und keinen Nachwuchs mehr
zeugen kann, dann kann man ihn auch um operieren und zur Frau machen.“ „Oh ja,
das ist gut, dann sind demnächst die Jungs hinter ihm her und er, nein, besser
sie weiß dann, wie ich mich gefühlt habe. Dann wird aus Jan Jana, ganz
einfach.“ „Na, stell dir das mal nicht zu einfach vor. Das ganze besteht nicht
nur aus der OP, sondern er muss vorher bereits mit Hormonen behandelt werden,
aber auch nach der Geschlechtsangleichung wird sie nicht mehr ohne Hormone
leben können.“
„Kann ich heute Nacht bei dir schlafen?“ fragte Cindy mich. „Bist Du sicher,
dass wir dann wirklich zum Schlafen kommen. Außerdem könnte es ja auch sein,
dass Rita auch auf die Idee kommt und bei mir schlafen möchte, und was ist
dann?“ „Och, schade. Hoffst Du etwa, dass sie noch kommt?“ entfuhr es ihr.
„Man kann nie wissen. Und wenn sie dich dann in meinem Bett vorfindet, dann
gibt es wieder Diskussionen. Also, mein lieber Schatz, geh‘ lieber in dein
eigenes Bett. Du kannst demnächst einmal unter irgendeinem Vorwand ein
Wochenende alleine bei mir verbringen, dann können wir das nachholen.“ „Oh ja“
entfuhr es ihr juchzend und sie schlang ihre Arme um meinen Hals und küsste
mich, „das machen wir dann aber bald.“
Sie stand auf und ging leise aus dem Zimmer. Es tat mir leid, sie weg zu
schicken, aber irgendwann musste auch mal Schluss sein.
Es waren keine drei Minuten vergangen, da ging schon wieder leise die Tür auf.
Ich nahm mir vor mich schlafend zu stellen und auf nichts zu reagieren. Die
Schritte kamen näher. Kam Cindy wieder zurück? Meine Decke wurde angehoben und
in dem Augenblick wusste ich, dass Rita sich neben mich legte. Ihr Parfüm
hatte sie verraten, dieser betörende Geruch, der mich schon früher so
aufgereizt hatte an ihr.
„Komm, tu nicht so, als würdest Du schlafen. Ich rieche Cindys Parfüm, sie war
schon vor mir hier, Du kannst mir nichts vormachen“ sagte Rita. „Ja, sie war
hier, sie konnte nicht schlafen und machte sich Gedanken um den sacklosen Jan.
Dabei hatte sie das von Anfang vorgehabt“ erwiderte ich. „Na klar, und sonst
hat sie nichts gewollt von dir. Dann müsstest Du ja noch fit sein und ich
könnte dich einmal ordentlich durchreiten. Leg‘ dich auf den Rücken, damit ich
mich auf deinen Schwanz setzen kann.“
Jetzt musste ich einfach das Licht einschalten, denn den Anblick wollte ich
mir nicht entgehen lassen. Rita saß rittlings auf mit und bohrte meinen
Ständer in ihre geile Muschi. Dann fing sie langsam mit Auf- und Ab Bewegungen
an. Ihre festen Titten tanzten dazu im Takt, Wahnsinn, dieser Körper. „Wenn Du
jetzt schlapp machst, muss ich dir leider anschließen deinen Sack mit dem
Elastrator abklemmen und dieses Mal werde ich den Gummi nicht so früh
abnehmen“ stellte sie fest. Ich wusste nicht, ob ich mich darüber freuen
sollte, aber zunächst einmal wollte ich die Situation ausnutzen, wie sie war.
Es dauerte auch fast fünfzehn Minuten, bis wir gleichzeitig kamen. Ich spritze
meine volle Ladung in die kleine Fotze von Rita. Sie sank nach vorne über und
drückte mir ihre Möpse ins Gesicht. „Die musst Du mir morgen noch einmal so
richtig abmelken, vorhin das war einfach zu kurz.“
Dann wurde es still bei uns im Zimmer und wir konnten von nebenan hören, wie
zwei Menschen stöhnten. Vermutlich war Nehle zu Ben ins Bett gestiegen und
quetschte das letzte Tröpfchen Sperma aus ihm heraus. Schön, dann waren die
beiden auch gut versorgt. Zwar hätte ich gerne auch einmal eine Runde mit
Nehle gefickt, denn bisher war sie noch etwas zu kurz gekommen, aber das
konnte ich auch noch nachholen. Und für Ben war am nächsten Tag auch noch
Zeit. Außerdem sollte er auch einmal mich bespringen, das Vergnügen hatte er
bisher noch nicht gehabt.
Wir schliefen am nächsten Tag alle lange aus. Ich wurde wach, als mir
Kaffeegeruch in die Nase stiegt. Leise stieg ich aus meinem Bett, legte die
Decke wieder über Rita und warf mir den Bademantel über. Dann ging ich aus dem
Zimmer die Treppe herunter in die Küche. Dort stand Nehle nur mit einem
Spitzenslip bekleidet und war dabei, sich einen frischen Kaffee einzuschenken.
„Ich konnte nicht mehr schlafen und bin deshalb schon hier runter gegangen und
habe mir einen Kaffee gekocht, ich hoffe, das ist dir recht“. „Ja, klar. Ich
geh‘ mal schnell vor die Tür, denn wir sollten schon Brötchen in unsere
Brötchenklappe habe. Ich hatte gestern noch bei meinem Bäcker angerufen und
für heute 15 frische Brötchen bestellt.“ Ein Lächeln fuhr über Nehles Gesicht.
Kurz darauf stand ich mit den duftenden Brötchen in der Küche.
„Na, hast Du heute Nacht noch etwas Spaß gehabt?“ fragte ich Nehle. Der
Gedanke an die Nacht muss sie sehr erregt haben, denn Ihre Nippel schwollen
ziemlich schnell an. Sie versuchte erst gar nicht, das zu verbergen, sondern
grinste nur etwas und kam auf mich zu. „Ja, Ben hatte noch ziemliche Kondition
und ich wollte schon immer mal mit einem jüngeren Boy schlafen. Ich hoffe, wir
haben dich nicht geweckt. Außerdem hatte ich nicht das Gefühl, dass Du keinen
Spaß mehr hattest. Erst wollte ich nämlich zu Rita gehen, aber ihr Bett war
leer. Dann bin ich eben zu Ben unter die Decke gekrochen.“
„Vielleicht hast Du heute Nacht Lust, zu mir unter die Decke zu kriechen“
fragte ich Nehle. „Ach, da fällt mir ein, dass Cindy heute Nacht noch zu mir
kam und fragte, wie es mit Jan weiter gehen soll. Ich hatte mir diese Gedanken
auch schon gemacht und nachdem mir Cindy sagte, dass Jan bei Pflegeeltern
wohnt, die sich nicht um ihn kümmern, dachte ich, dass es am besten wäre, wenn
Jan zu Jana würde. Soweit ich weiß, gibt es in der Schweiz eine gute Klinik
für die Geschlechtsumwandlung, was hältst Du davon?“
Da griff Nehle in meine Hose, schnappte sich meinen Pimmel und quetschte ihn
an der Wurzel mit zwei Fingern feste ab. „Meinst Du etwa, man solle ihm sein
Schwänzchen ganz abnehmen lassen?“ „Na, zuerst solltest Du ihm Hormonpräparate
verabreichen, so dass der Prozess der Umwandlung schon mal eingeleitet wird.
Nach einer Weile wird seine Gefühlswelt dann etwas durcheinander geraten und
dann können wir ihm vorschlagen, dass es für ihn am einfachsten wäre, wenn er
sich um operieren lassen würde. Was hältst Du davon? Ich werde mich über das
Jugendamt darum kümmern, dass er von diesen Rabeneltern weg kommt. Ich werde
ihm sagen, dass er hier einziehen kann und dass ich das von gestern wieder gut
machen würde. Er soll sich dann so richtig wohl fühlen hier.“
Nehle stimmte mir zu und zog mich an meinem Schwanz hinter sich her. „Kannst
Du mich bitte ordentlich durchvögeln, Ben war vorhin noch viel zu müde. Ich
merke aber, dass ich dringend eine Schwanz in meiner Fotze brauche.“ Da lässt
man sich doch nicht zweimal bitten und außerdem konnten wir jetzt noch
ungestört einfach drauflos ficken.
Nach dieser Nummer fragte mich Nehle, ob sie nicht eine Weile zu mir ziehen
könnte. Sie suchte schon länger eine kleine Wohnung, die näher an der Klinik
in der nächsten Stadt lag. Die lange Anfahrt jeden Morgen und die viele Zeit,
die sie mit der Fahrerei vergeudete, waren ihr schon lange ein Dorn im Auge.
„Außerdem wird es dann auch mit dem Jugendamt und Jan einfacher. Dann hast Du
eine Frau mit in deinem Haus wohnen und wir könnten ihnen sagen, dass wir ein
Paar sind.“ Immer praktisch veranlagt, diese Frauen. „Ich weiß nur nicht, was
Rita dazu sagen wird“ stellte ich fest. „Seid ihr den fest zusammen? Sie hatte
davon gar nichts gesagt und wir reden eigentlich über alles.“ „Nein, zusammen
sind wir nicht, aber ich kenne sie, seit sie ein kleines Mädchen ist. Schon
seit Jahren liegt sie mir in den Ohren, dass sie zu Hause raus möchte. Sie war
schon einige Male zu Hause abgehauen und hat sich dann bei mir ausgeweint. Und
seit einigen Wochen weiß ich, dass ich sie liebe und sie scheint gar nicht
abgeneigt, zumindest macht sie solche Andeutungen. Also, lass mich bitte
zuerst mit ihr reden. Danach kannst Du ihr dann deinen Vorschlag
unterbreiten.“
„So, wir sollten jetzt den Frühstücktisch decken und dann die anderen wecken.
Gegen vierzehn Uhr kommt ein guter Freund von mir, bis dahin sollten wir
gefrühstückt haben. Carlos, mein Freund, meinte am Telefon, dass er eine
Überraschung mitbringen würde. Als ich ihm erzählte, dass ich drei nette
Mädels und zwei Jungs zu Besuch hier haben würde, schnalzte er mit der Zunge
und meinte nur, dass es ein riesen Spaß werden würde.“
Nach einer viertel Stunde war der Tisch gedeckt und Jan, Ben und die beiden
Mädels geweckt. Alle bis auf Jan waren bester Laune. Jan schaute nur unter
sich und lief auch noch sehr breitbeinig. Seine Augen waren rot und verweint,
sicherlich hatte er in der Nacht nicht viel geschlafen. Cindy hatte sich neben
ihn gesetzt und nahm ihn jetzt in den Arm und flüsterte ihm etwas ins Ohr,
doch es half nichts. Jan war immer noch am Boden zerstört.
Nach dem Frühstück gingen alle auf die Terrasse und sonnten sich. Ich nahm
Cindy beiseite und erzählte ihr, was ich mit Nehle und Rita besprochen hatte.
Wir wollten Jan helfen, indem wir ihn in einer geschlechtsangleichenden
Operation zum Mädchen machen lassen würden. Vorher aber würde er für eine
Weile zunächst Hormone gespritzt und in Tablettenform verabreicht bekommen, um
was für Medikamente es sich dabei handelte, solle er aber erst nach einigen
Wochen erfahren. Dann, wenn der Prozess nicht mehr umkehrbar ist und sich
seine Gefühlswelt sowieso schon in Aufruhr befinden würde, würden wir ihm von
der OP berichten und dass es eine Chance für ihn sein, in Zukunft als Jana
durchs Leben zu gehen.
Ich bat Cindy darum, von dieser Sache noch nichts zu erzählen. Sie könne ihm
aber einen Vorschlag machen. Ich erzählte ihr das, was ich mit Nehle
besprochen hatte und wir Jan bei mir aufnehmen würden. Es sollte ihm an nichts
fehlen.
Nach einigen Runden im Pool gingen wir alle nach und nach unter die Dusche.
Gegen 14 Uhr klingelte es. Mein Freund Carlos stand vor dem Tor und bat um
Einlass. Die Mädels waren alle so neugierig, sie kamen mit an Carlos Auto, um
ihn zu begrüßen. Carlos war nicht alleine gekommen. Seine Begleiterin stieg
aus und in den Augen meiner Mädchen konnte ich sofort sehen, dass sie damit
nicht gerechnet hatten. Sofort kam Rita zu mir und flüsterte mir ins Ohr, dass
ich davon nichts erwähnt hatte. Ich erwiderte, dass ich davon auch nichts
gewusst hätte, Carlos habe nur von einer Überraschung gesprochen, mehr nicht.
„Hallo Chris, schön dich wieder mal zu sehen. Das ist Sarah.“ Carlos umarmte
mich herzlich und Sarah gab mir die Hand. Sie hatte eine super Figur, war
ziemlich groß und hatte ganz dunkle, fast schwarze Augen. Sie war braun
gebrannt und sicherlich keine Europäerin. „Sarah habe ich bei meinem letzten
Trip nach Brasilien kennen gelernt“ beantwortete Carlos meine ungestellte,
aber in meinen Augen sichtbare Frage. Wow, nicht schlecht fuhr es mir durch
den Sinn.
Auf dem Weg ins Haus hielt mich Cindy etwas zurück. „Du wirst doch nicht
gleich wieder untreu werden. Es ist schon schlimm genug, dass Du mit meiner
Schwester vögelst und sicherlich hast Du auch schon mit Nehle gefickt. Du
weißt hoffentlich, dass ich dich liebe und nicht nur mit dir schlafen möchte.“
Ups, das war offen, damit hatte ich nicht gerechnet. Ihre Schwester hatte mir
schon an unserem letzten gemeinsamen Abend gestanden, dass sie in mich
verliebt sei. Im Haus angekommen, fragte ich Carlos und Sarah, ob sie sich
nach der langen Fahrt nicht zunächst etwas frisch machen wollten, ihr Zimmer
sei bereits vorbereitet. „Rita, kannst Du bitte den beiden das freie
Gästezimmer zeigen?“ fragte ich. „Nehle, Ben, Jan, geht ihr schon auf die
Terrasse, ich komme mit Cindy gleich nach. Dann nahm ich Cindy am Arm und ging
mit ihr in die Bibliothek.
„Hör mal Cindy, Du weißt, dass ich dich gern hab.“ Sie ließ mich gar nicht
erst weiter sprechen, schlang ihre Arme um meinen Hals und küsste mich, wobei
ihre Zunge sofort mit alle Macht in meinen Mund eindrang. Ich war dermaßen
überrascht, dass ich mich zunächst nicht wehren konnte. „Ich habe dich auch
sehr gern und als Du mich mit deiner Zunge zum Höhepunkt geleckt hast, das war
einfach das Größte, nie zuvor hatte ich so einen geilen Orgasmus gehabt.
Seitdem weiß ich, dass ich dich liebe und dass bei dir bleiben möchte.“
„Cindy, Du bist vierzehn Jahre alt und somit noch vier Jahre lang
minderjährig. In diesen vier Jahren würde ich mich immer strafbar machen, denn
auf Geschlechtsverkehr mit Minderjährigen ist der Staatsanwalt nicht gut zu
sprechen. Bitte, sei vernünftig.“ „Hat es dir etwa nicht gefallen und jetzt,
da ich keine Jungfrau mehr bin, bin ich uninteressant für dich?“ Cindy weinte
und umklammerte mich. Was nun, da hatte ich mir ein ziemliches Problem
eingehandelt.
Sicherlich lag ein Großteil daran, dass vor zwei Jahren ihr Vater zu Hause
ausgezogen war. Ihre Mutter hatte es einfach nicht mehr ausgehalten mit ihm.
Zwar ging er ganz regelmäßig seiner Arbeit nach, aber kaum zu Hause,
umklammerte er die verschiedenen Flaschen mit Alkohol und spätestens ab 9 Uhr
abends und an den Wochenenden komplett lag er flach und schlief seinen Rausch
aus. Zu Deutsch, die Kinder konnten nicht auf ihn zählen. Rita und Ben konnten
mit dieser Situation schon etwas besser umgehen, aber Cindy fehlte sicherlich
der Vater.
„Cindy, ich verspreche dir, dass ich für dich da sein werde und dass Du immer
zu mir kommen kannst, aber hier einziehen, das geht einfach nicht, Was würde
deine Ma dazu sagen. Irgendwann würde sie auch nicht mehr glauben, dass hier
nichts weiter passiert. Und nur, um allen Eventualitäten vorzubeugen: Warst Du
bereits einmal beim Frauenarzt?“ „Ja, aber die Pille hatte er mir noch nicht
verschrieben, ich hatte meiner Ma versichert, dass ich noch keinen Sex mit
Jungs hatte.“
„Okay, dann gehen wir morgen nach der Schule zu einer Freundin von mir. Sie
ist Frauenärztin und sie wird sie wird dich untersuchen und dir
sicherheitshalber eine Pille für danach verabreichen. Oder möchtest Du schon
ein Kind bekommen? Ich hoffe für dich, dass nicht.“
Daraufhin nahm ich sie bei der Hand und wir gingen zu den anderen auf die
Terrasse.
Rita war schon wieder zurück und sagte, dass Carlos und Sarah noch schnell
Duschen wollten und dann runter kämen. Sie setzte Sich wie selbstverständlich
auf meinen Schoß. „Na Du, was hattest Du denn so wichtiges mit meiner kleinen
Schwester zu besprechen, dass niemand sonst dabei sein durfte? Hast Du etwa
Geheimnisse vor mit?“ „Nein, ich habe keine Geheimnisse vor dir, deshalb muss
ich auch mit dir unter vier Augen sprechen. Gehen wir in den Pool und setzen
uns ganz hinten neben den Wasserfall. Erstens kommt da herrlich warmes Wasser
herunter und zweitens können und die anderen dann nicht hören.“
Sie stand auf und zog mich am Arm hinter ihr her. „Was hast Du denn so
Geheimes, dass es die anderen nicht hören sollen? Fragte Rita neugierig. „Ich
muss mit dir über etwas reden, was dir nicht unbedingt gefallen wird, aber
lass uns erst ins Wasser gehen.“ Wir schwammen durch das Becken und setzten
und am anderen Ende neben den warmen Wasserfall. „Also, sag‘ schon, was ist
los?“ fragte Rita bohrend.
„Ich hatte heute Morgen mit Nehle wegen Jan gesprochen, sie hält es auch für
eine gute Idee, ihn einer Geschlechtsoperation zu unterziehen. Sie wird mich
auch dabei unterstützen, dass das Jugendamt zustimmt, das Jan zu mir zieht.
Sie sagt, dass sie schon länger eine Wohnung sucht, die näher an der Klinik
liegt und da kam sie auf die Idee, sie können doch bei mir einziehen.“ „Und Du
hast natürlich gleich Ja gesagt, Du geiler Bock. Das könnte dir so passen,
dass Nehle hier einzieht und Du dann jeden Tag mit ihr vögelst.“ „Nein, darum
geht es doch gar nicht. Ich habe ihr schon gesagt, dass ich zuerst mit dir
darüber sprechen möchte. Außerdem, was regst Du dich so sehr darüber auf,
schließlich wohne ich schon ziemlich lange alleine und eine Frau im Haus wäre
nicht schlecht.“ „Sicher, aber als ich damals gefragt habe, ob ich zu dir
ziehen könnte, hast Du dich mit Händen und Füßen dagegen gewehrt. Jetzt bei
Nehle willst Du gleich zustimmen.“ Nein, Du weißt, dass das ganz anders war.
Du hast mich das erste Mal gefragt, ob Du zu mir ziehen könntest, da hatte ich
noch nicht dieses Haus und nicht so viel Platz, außerdem warst Du noch lange
nicht volljährig und es hätte nur Gerede gegeben in der Nachbarschaft.
Außerdem, was hätten deine Eltern gesagt?“ „Okay, dann zieh ich eben jetzt zu
Dir. Du hast mehr als genügend Platz und ich bin inzwischen 21, also gibt es
keine Probleme damit.“ „Ich bin Geschäftsmann und wenn ich dann zu
verschiedenen wichtigen Anlässen ohne Anhang komme, obwohl die anderen wissen,
dass ich eine Freundin habe, das geht nicht. Wenn ich aber mit Anhang komme,
der noch nicht einmal halb so alt ist wie ich, dann zerreißen sich alle den
Mund darüber und das möchte ich dir ersparen.“ „Aber mit Nehle wäre das kein
Problem. Gut, sie ist fünf Jahre älter als ich, aber dennoch ist sie viel
jünger als Du. Dann lass uns einfach beide hier einziehen, Platz hast Du
wirklich mehr als genug.“
Das hörte sich doch schon viel besser an. „Okay, dann machen wir das“ sagte
ich zu Rita. Sie war so begeistert, dass sie mich sofort an meinem Schwanz
packte und ihn kräftig zu reinem begann. „Zur Feier des Tages musst Du mich
gleich ordentlich ficken, und zwar hier unter dem Wasserfall, dann bekommen
die anderen nichts davon mit und Nehle und Cindy wollen nicht auch gleich noch
mit dir vögeln“ sagte Rita und zog mich hinter ihr her unter den Wasserfall.
Nicht, dass ich etwas dagegen hatte, aber wie sollte das in Zukunft werden.
Zwei junge Frauen, die sicherlich alles von mir fordern würden und dann ab und
zu noch eine kleine Nymphomanin, die auch ihren Teil abbekommen möchte. Aber
zunächst genoss ich erst einmal den geilen Fick mit Rita.
Inzwischen waren Carlos und Sarah herunter gekommen und hatten sich zu den
anderen auf die Terrasse gesetzt. „Na Chris, wie ich sehe, lässt Du es dir
sehr gut gehen“ stellte Carlos fest. „Deine Geschäfte scheinen gut zu laufen.“
„Ja, ich kann mich nicht beklagen. Zwar hatte ich eine längere Anlaufphase,
aber jetzt bekomme ich alles mehrfach wieder zurück. Aber deinem Wagen nach zu
urteilen, nagst Du auch nicht am Hungertuch“ sagte ich zu Carlos. Er war in
einen funkelnagelneuen Ferrari angereist und dem Kennzeichen nach zu urteilen,
war es auch sein eigener Wagen. „Ja, die Kaffee- und Kakaogeschäfte laufen
ganz ordentlich. Ich habe neue Plantagen in Südamerika dazugekauft und ich bin
froh, dass ich bei meinem letzten Besuch in Brasilien Sarah kennengelernt
habe. Sie hatte bis vor kurzem für den ehemaligen Besitzer meiner neuen
Plantagen gearbeitet und ich habe sie abgeworben. Sarah hat in Nordamerika und
England Internationales Business studiert und sie spricht vier Sprachen
fließend. Sie wird mir in Zukunft eine große Hilfe sein.
Ben und Jan hatten sich die ganze Zeit mit meinen ipads beschäftigt und die
Mädchen lasen entweder Illustrierte oder in ihren Büchern. Sarah hatte sich zu
ihnen gesetzt und jetzt unterhielten sie sich angeregt.
„Sag mal Chris, sind zwei der Mädels nicht noch etwas zu jung für dich?“
wollte Carlos von mir wissen. „Ach, weißt Du, geplant war das so auch nicht,
aber vor einigen Wochen waren Rita, Ben und Cindy bei mir zum Grillen und
Schwimmen. Die drei sind Geschwister und die Kinder meiner Sekretärin, ich
kenne sie seit vielen Jahren und Rita, die Älteste kam früher schon öfters zu
mir, um mir ihr Leid mit ihren Eltern zu klagen. Naja, und beim letzten Mal
haben sie mich schon während dem Schwimmen angemacht und hinterher hatten wir
dann alle zusammen viel Spaß. Nach diesem Abend haben sie immer wieder
gefragt, ob wir das nicht wiederholen könnten.“
Ich erzählte ihm, was am letzten Abend geschehen war und fragte ihn dann, ob
ich ihm mein Haus zeigen sollte. Wir gingen nach drinnen und ich führte Carlos
durch die verschiedenen Etagen. Als letztes kamen wir wieder in die unterste
Etage und ich zeigte ihm die Duschen und den Sportraum.
„Ah, da sind ja die tollen Liegen. Ich muss schon sagen, Du hast wirklich an
alles gedacht. Ein sehr schönes Haus und ein toller Garten. Und diese Liegen
erst, ich glaube, Du musst mir die Adresse geben, wo Du sie hast anfertigen
lassen, ich hätte auch eine gute Verwendung dafür.“
In dem Augenblick hörte ich Rita nach uns rufen und im nächsten Augenblick
stand sie auch schon im Sportraum. „Na ihr zwei, könnt ihr schon nicht mehr
abwarten?“ Sie kam auf mich zu und griff in meine Badehose. „Der Kleine ist
aber noch etwas schwach auf der Brust“ lachte sie und fing an, meinen Schwanz
zu kneten. „Soll ich ihm etwas auf die Beine helfen?“ Carlos sah zu mir und
grinste. Ich hatte ihm bereits erzählt, dass die Mädchen ziemlich gut drauf
waren und keine Konditionsschwäche kannten. Über Cindy hatte ich ihm nicht
ganz die Wahrheit gesagt, denn ich wusste nicht so genau, wie der darauf
reagieren würde.
„Habt ihr Hunger nach der langen Fahrt?“ fragte ich Carlos auch, um von der
Situation etwas abzulenken. „Ich habe für heute Abend Essen bestellt, das
Restaurant wird gegen 17 Uhr kommen und auf der Terrasse alles vorbereiten.
Wir können uns dann den ganzen Abend verwöhnen lassen, denn ein Koch und eine
Kellnerin kommen auch gleich mit.“
„Klar, habe ich Hunger, Du denkst auch wirklich an alles. Dann werde ich
vorher noch eine Runde in den Pool gehen und etwas Sonne tanken“ lies Carlos
und wissen.
Nach kurzer Zeit waren wir alle im Pool und tobten wie die Male zuvor. Dieses
Mal hatten die Mädchen noch einen weiteren Hengst, dem sie zwischen den Beinen
durchtauchen und ihn anmachen konnten. Nach dem zweiten oder dritten Tauchgang
unter Carlos hindurch kam Cindy auf mich zu geschwommen und zog mich in
Richtung des Wasserfalls. „Sag‘ mal, was hat Carlos da in der Hose? Beim
ersten Tauchen habe ich es noch nicht bemerkt, beim zweiten Tauchgang dachte
ich, ich hätte mich geirrt aber beim dritten Mal war ich mir dann sicher. Das
ist nicht normal, was er da in seiner Hose stecken hat.“ Sie hatte ihre Augen
ziemlich weit aufgerissen und sah geil aus damit. „Warum, was hast Du denn in
seiner Hose gefunden?“ fragte ich scheinheilig. „Soweit ich das bisher
beurteilen kann, muss Carlos einen Schwanz wie ein Pferd haben. Seine Badehose
ist ja sehr weit, so dass man das nicht sehen kann, aber ich habe schließlich
zweimal danach gefühlt und das Ding endet nirgendwo.“ Sie war ziemlich
verdattert und so durcheinander hatte ich Cindy in letzter Zeit nicht erlebt.
„Du wirst mir doch jetzt nicht untreu werden“ spottete ich, worauf Cindy mit
ihren Augen funkelte, sich meinen Schwanz in der Hose griff, zu drückte und
meinte „Du willst mich ja nicht zu dir ziehen lassen.“
Am liebsten hätte ich ihr gesagt, dass das nicht bedeutete, dass wir nicht ab
und zu miteinander Spaß haben könnten, aber das verkniff ich mir jetzt erst
einmal.
„Ich habe es dir bereits erklärt und ich hoffe, dass Du das verstehst.“ „Ja,
hast Du, aber ficken können wir doch hoffentlich ab und zu“ entgegnete mir
Cindy. Dann schwammen wir wieder zu den anderen.
Gegen fünf stiegen wir alle aus dem Pool. Carlos und Sarah legten sich in die
Sonne und ich ging den kürzesten Weg in die Dusche. Dieses Mal schloss ich
aber. Kaum unter der Dusche klopfte es an der Tür. „Chris, mach auf, was soll
das“ rief Rita durch die Tür. „Ich stehe schon unter der Dusche“ rief ich
zurück. „Das ist mir egal, schließ bitte auf.“ Also schloss ich die Tür kurz
auf, zog Rita ins Bad und schloss direkt wieder zu. „Die anderen können die
anderen Duschen benutzen, schließlich habe ich genug davon. Und wenn ich hier
nicht zuschließe, haben wir gleich alle wieder hier drin bzw. nebenan und Du
weißt, wohin das die letzten Male geführt hat.“
Rita und ich gingen gemeinsam unter die Dusche.
Pünktlich um 18 Uhr war das Essen fertig und Koch und Kellnerin erwarteten uns
auf der Terrasse. Wie bestellt hatte das Restaurant ein echtes Erotikmenü
vorbereitet, genau die richtige Mischung aus Schärfe und Süße, dazu hatte ich
den Koch gebeten, sich in meinem Weinkeller, der wirklich sehr gut sortiert
war, die richtigen Flaschen auszusuchen.
Den ganzen Abend über hatten wir alle viel Spaß und nach dem Essen meldete
sich Carlos mit Ankündigung zu Wort. „Mein lieber Chris, ich hatte dir am
Telefon bereits angekündigt, dass ich eine Überraschung mitbringen würde. Ich
möchte dich einladen, auf meine neue Yacht zu kommen und meinen Geburtstag mit
meinen Freunden und mir zu feiern. Natürlich kannst Du auch Begleitung
mitbringen, lass es mich nur rechtzeitig wissen. Du musst nur rechtzeitig am
12.07. in Genua sein, denn am Abend werden wir ablegen. Wir werden dann einige
Tage durchs Mittelmeer kreuzen und unter anderem auch auf Mallorca und Ibiza
Station machen, es wir ein riesen Spaß werden.“
Sofort meldeten sich Rita und Cindy zu Wort, dass sie auch mitkommen würden
und auch Nehle sah mich an, dass es kaum eine Frage war, was sie gerade
dachte. Auch Ben meinte, dass er gerne einmal auf so einer Yacht mitfahren
würde.
Nur Jan blieb still. Er hatte den ganzen Abend über nicht viel gesprochen,
doch zumindest konnte ich erfreut sehen, dass er nicht mehr so breitbeinig
lief. Außerdem hatte Nehle ihm Medikamente aus der Apotheke besorgt, gegen die
Schmerzen und eine Entzündung, wie sie sagte. Tatsächlich waren das eine
Medikament reine Hormone. Der Prozess der Geschlechtsumwandlung hatte also
jetzt begonnen. In drei Wochen würde er merken, dass sich etwas an ihm
änderte. Dann würde Nehle damit beginnen, ihm die Hormonspritzen zu
verabreichen, mit der Begründung, dass diese sicherlich besser helfen würden,
als nur Tabletten. Nach einigen Monaten würden ihm dann Brüste wachsen und wir
bräuchten ihm diese Hormone nicht mehr ohne sein Wissen geben. Wir würden ihm
von der Operationsmöglichkeit erzählen und dass er danach sicherlich viel
glücklicher sein würde.
Nehle ging zu Jan und sagte ihm, dass sie mit ihm reden wollte. Sie gingen
gemeinsam zu einem Spaziergang durch den Garten. Sie würde ihm jetzt anbieten,
was wir morgens besprochen hatten und ich hoffte, dass er das Angebot annehmen
würde. Ich hatte Nehle gesagt, dass ich inzwischen mit Rita gesprochen hatte
und dass sie meinem Vorschlag unter der Bedingung zugestimmt hatte, dass sie
auch bei mir einziehen dürfte.
Nach zwanzig Minuten tauchten die beiden aus dem Dunkel des Gartens wieder auf
und Nehle sah entspannt aus. Sie kamen auf mich zu. „Jan möchte dich etwas
fragen“ meinte Nehle. Sie ließ Jan bei mir stehen und ging zu den anderen.
„Nehle meinte, dass Du mich bei dir aufnehmen würdest und dass Du auch mit dem
Jugendamt sprechen würdest, damit ich von meinen Pflegeeltern wegkomme.
Würdest Du das wirklich tun?“ Jan schien richtig erleichtert und das erste Mal
an diesem Wochenende, nachdem wir ihm sein Schwänzchen abgetrennt hatten,
etwas fröhlich. „Ja, das hatte ich mit Nehle besprochen. Du kannst hier
einziehen. Such dir eines der Zimmer auf dem oberen Flur aus und sag mir, wie
Du es umgestaltet haben möchtest, das lasse ich dann machen. Wir können gleich
morgen zum Jugendamt gehen und mit ihnen sprechen, damit sie das auch in die
Wege leiten. Damit das Jugendamt sich keine Gedanken machen muss, wird Nehle
auch bei mir einziehen.“
Das schien Jan noch mehr zu erfreuen. Dem Anschein nach mochte er Nehle, was
die Sache natürlich noch einfacher machte.
Jan bedankte sich, lief zu Cindy und Nehle und erzählte ihnen von unserer
Abmachung. Dann nahm er eines der ipads und meinte, dass er jetzt gerne
schlafen gehen würde.
Gegen 23 Uhr verließen uns der Koch und die Kellnerin. Cindy kam zu mir und
meinte, dass es jetzt langsam Zeit würde, dass sie Carlos einmal in die Hose
sehen dürfte, wie wolle unbedingt noch wissen, ob sie recht hatte mit ihrer
Vermutung. Da ich wusste, dass Carlos auch zu vielem bereit war und erst recht
dazu, möglichst oft eine Nummer zu schieben, kam ich direkt zum Thema.
„Mein Freund, die letzten Abende haben wir immer in meinem Sportraum
ausklingen lassen, was hältst Du davon?“ fragte ich Carlos. Cindy klatschte in
die Hände „Oh ja, endlich, wir können noch etwas Spaß haben“ rief sie in die
Runde.
Carlos war etwas verdutzt ob der euphorischen Bemerkung von Cindy. Aber er
stand auf, nahm Sarah an der Hand und kam hinter uns her. Rita war neben mich
gekommen und fragte, was da mit Cindy und mir laufen würde. Ich erzählte ihr
von Cindys Feststellung, da gab Rita zu, dass sie solch einen Gedanken auch
schon gehabt habe, aber sie habe sich nicht getraut, mich zu fragen.
Kaum im Sportraum angekommen, zog Cindy sich ihr T-Shirt und ihre Boxershorts
aus. Sie stand jetzt mit nackten Oberkörper und einer Winzigkeit von Slip vor
uns. „Los, ihr Schlappschwänze, zieht die Hosen runter, damit ich sehen kann,
wem das hier gefällt“ und fasste sich dabei an ihre kleinen, festen Titten.
Carlos nahm mich zur Seite „Du hast doch nicht etwa auch mit ihr gevögelt?“
„Doch, und ich habe sie sogar entjungfert, sie wollte das so. Du wirst dich
noch wundern, auf welche Ideen dieses Mädchen kommt“ entgegnete ich ihm.
„Hattest Du nicht gesagt, dass sie erst 14 ist?“ „Doch, aber was solch ich
machen. Sie hat einen perfekten Körper, sieht keineswegs wie vierzehn aus und
sie ist Nymphomanin.“
„Ihr sollt hier nicht nur blöd rumstehen, ich möchte was sehen“ sagte Cindy zu
uns und fing an, mir meine Hose auszuziehen. Rita kam zu Carlos „ich hatte
vorhin im Wasser, das Gefühl, dass Du etwas Platzprobleme in deiner Hose
hast“, kniete sich vor Carlos nieder und zog ihm seine Shorts aus.
Was jetzt zum Vorschein kam, ließ sie erst einmal vor Schreck nach hinten
fallen. Sie hatte die Hose bis zu seinen Knien heruntergezogen und auch erst
kurz darüber kam seine Eichel zum Vorschein. Carlos Schwanz hatte Gardemaß. Er
maß sicherlich rund vierzig Zentimeter. So einen Schwanz hatten meine Mädels
sicherlich noch nicht gesehen. Cindy stand jetzt neben ihrer Schwester und
bekam den Mund nicht mehr zu. „Holla, was eine Rakete“ rief sie. „Das ist ja
ein Riesenpimmel. Sorry, aber so etwas habe ich noch nicht gesehen.“
Nehle kam hinzu und auch ihrem Gesicht konnte ich ansehen, dass dies für sie
Prämiere war, so einen langen Schwanz hatte selbst sie als angehende Urologin
noch nicht in Natura gesehen.
„Darf ich den mal in die Hand nehmen?“ fragte Rita und langte sofort zu und
hob Carlos‘ Schwanz dabei etwas an. Die Mädchen waren echt fasziniert. Nur
Sarah stand anfangs etwas gelangweilt rum. Jetzt aber ergriff sie die
Initiative und zog Ben die Hose runter und machte sich sofort daran, ihn mit
ihren Lippen zu verwöhnen.
„Glaubt mir, es ist nicht immer so ganz einfach mit so einem langen Teil
Welche Frau kann schon über vierzig Zentimeter in sich aufnehmen“ stellte
Carlos klar. „Aber dafür kann ich Dinge machen, die andere Männer nicht
hinbekommen. Chris, legst Du dich bitte auf die Liege, damit Sarah dich etwas
verwöhnen kann.“ Ich legte mich auf den Rücken und Sarah kam sofort auf die
Liege und setzte sich mit ihrem Hinter auf meinen Schwanz. Anscheinend hatte
sie Ben bereits eingewiesen, was sie vorhatten, denn Ben kam darauf über Sarah
und bohrte seinen Schwanz auch noch in das Arschloch von Sarah. Jetzt stellte
sich Carlos ans Ende der Liege, nahm seinen Schwanz in die Hand und bat Rita
und Cindy, dass sie ihn doch bitte etwas aufblasen sollten.
Die beiden Mädchen machten sich sofort daran, Carlos‘ Schwanz zu bedienen.
Nach eine Weile wurde er härter und Carlos führte seinen Säbel als dritten in
Sarahs Rosette ein, die daraufhin sofort zu Keuchen anfing. Drei Schwänze in
einem Loch, das war wirklich der Hammer, das hatte ich auch noch nicht erlebt.
Rita und Cindy kümmerten sich währenddessen um unsere Eier.
Die Rhythmischen Bewegungen der anderen beiden Schwänze war schon ein irres
Gefühl und obwohl ich vorher das Gefühl hatte, dass Sarahs Hintern schon gut
eingeritten war, mit drei Schwänzen inne war auch dieses Loch sehr schön eng.
„Carlos, darf ich deinen Pimmel auch einmal melken?“ fragte Cindy ihn. „Ach,
Du meinst, mit der richtigen Melkanlage, von der mir Chris schon erzählt hat?
Ja, warum nicht, bisher hatte ich immer nur die Venus 2000, wenn gerade keine
Frau zur Hand war.“ Er zog seinen langen Riemen aus Sarahs Hintern. Cindy
hatte bereits das untere Polster aus der anderen Liege genommen und deutete
Carlos an, er solle sich einfach nur darauf legen. Von der Seite betrachtet
sah es schon ziemlich heftig aus, Carlos auf der Liege und sein Schwanz
schaute unten sicherlich dreißig Zentimeter heraus.
Rita hatte die Schläuche bereits an den Pulsator angeschlossen. „Chris, hast
Du auch noch längere Melkzylinder, oder sind das hier die Größten?“ fragte
mich Rita. „Sorry Carlos, aber daran hatte ich noch nicht gedacht. Aber bis
zum nächsten Mal lasse ich dir deinen eigenen Zylinder anfertigen.“
Ben und ich waren inzwischen gekommen und wieder aufgestanden. Cindy band
Carlos auf der Liege fest und ich stellte die Liege in die Schräge. Die Mädels
gingen vor der Liege in Stellung, Nehle schaltete die Melkanlage ein und Rita
führte den Melkzylinder zu Carlos Schwanz. Schwupps und schon war sein Pimmel
zu Hälfte aufgesaugt. Carlos verzog mit einem Stöhnen sein Gesicht, denn
sicherlich war seine Eichel gegen das Ende des Melkzylinders gerast, für
solche Längen waren diese Zylinder natürlich nicht gemacht. Ich bat Nehle, den
Unterdruck etwas zurück zu nehmen, denn sonst hätte Carlos eher nur Schmerzen
als geile Gefühle.
Allzulange dauerte es nicht und Carlos bäumte sich in den Gurten auf und
schleuderte eine ordentliche Ladung Sperma in den Zylinder. Cindy nahm noch
vor Ende seines Orgasmus den Zylinder von seinem Schwanz und diesen sofort in
den Mund und fing den letzten Rest des Spermas auf. Sie stopfte sich sein Teil
fast soweit in ihren Mund, wie der Zylinder ihn aufgenommen hatte. Einige Mal
musste sie schon richtig würgen, den Carlos‘ Eichel rammte sich in Cindys
Rachen.
Rita ging zu dem kleinen Schrank und holte den Elastrator und einen Gummiring
heraus und legte ihn auf den Elastrator auf. „So Carlos, die anderen Jungs
haben das schon vor drei Wochen bzw. gestern hinter sich gebracht, heute musst
Du noch daran glauben. Sie löste die Gurtschlösser und forderte Carlos auf,
sich auf den Rücken zu drehen. Dann spannte sie die beiden oberen Gurte wieder
fest. „Chris, bringst Du Carlos bitte in Stellung“ forderte mich Rita auf.
Kurz darauf saß Carlos in der richtigen Position. Nehle hatten ihren Schock
über den riesigen Schwanz inzwischen überwunden, nahm ihn in die Hand und
hielt ihn in die Höhe. Carlos Sackhaut war im Gegensatz zu Bens, Jans und
meiner wesentlich länger und seine Eier hingen richtig tief herunter. Rita
spannte den Elastrator auf und fing an, Carlos Eier durch den Ring zu drücken.
„Könntest Du damit bitte etwas vorsichtiger umgehen, ich brauche die noch“
entfuhr es Carlos mit einem kleinen Schmerzschrei.
Nachdem beide Eier durch den Ring durchgesteckt waren, ließ Rita den
Elastrator langsam entspannen und der Gummiring legte sich um Carlos
Samenstränge. „So, Du Zuchtbulle, wir machen dich jetzt zum Ochsen“ lachte
Rita. „In der Zwischenzeit können wir deine Stute melken, die hat es dringend
nötig, denke ich.“ Rita ging zu Sarah und nahm sie mit zur zweiten Liege. Sie
entnahm die beiden oberen Polster und Sarah legte sich mit Ihren Titten
passend auf die Liege. Sie rollte die Liege so in Position, dass Carlos sie,
nachdem ich die Liege auch in die Schräge gestellt hatte, und den Melkvorgang
genau beobachten konnte. Sarah hatte sehr schöne Brüste, etwas größer als bei
Nehle, aber noch keine Riesentitten, auf die Stand ich nämlich gar nicht.
Ich stellte mich jetzt hinter Sarah und führte meinen Dolch in ihre Fotze ein.
Sie streckte mir ihren geilen Hinter im Takt der Melkanlage entgegen und fing
an zu Keuchen. Cindy trat hinter mich und griff meinen Sack. „Das ist aber
eine Ausnahme“ flüsterte sie mir ins Ohr, „morgen nach der Schule möchte ich,
dass Du mich wieder fertig machst.“ Dann drückte sie fester zu und mir schoss
ein spitzer Schmerz durch meine Lenden. „He, was soll dass, willst Du mir
meine Eier zerdrücken?“ rief ich Cindy zu.
Inzwischen war Carlos Sack schon ziemlich angelaufen und er erkundigte sich,
wie lange das gut gehen würde. Nehle beruhigte ihn, so schnell würde nichts
passieren. Sie kletterte auf ihn und gab ihm ihre tollen Titten zum Lecken,
was sich Carlos gerne gefallen ließ. Ben wollte wohl nun nicht länger untätig
rumstehen und griff sich seine kleine Schwester und setzte sie auf den kleinen
Schrank. Er wichste sich drei, vier Mal seinen Schwanz und steckte ihn dann in
die enge Fotze der geilen Cindy.
So wurde es dann auch noch ein schöner Abschluss nach diesem gelungen Tag.
In der Nacht kam wieder zuerst Cindy zu mir, weinte sich an meiner Brust aus,
warum ich sie nicht bei mir einziehen lassen würde. Zum Trost leckte ich noch
einmal ihre Möse und wieder kam sie mit einem heftigen Orgasmus und einer
Menge Mösensaft über mein Gesicht. Das Mädchen war wirklich nicht normal.
Als sie gegangen war, hörte ich im Nebenzimmer wieder das Gestöhne der letzten
Nacht und vermutete, dass Nehle sich noch wenig mit Ben vergnügte. Dann ging
wieder meine Schlafzimmertür auf und zu und Rita kroch unter meine Decke. Sie
machte mir ziemliche Vorwürfe, da ich schon wieder nach ihrer Schwester roch.
„Du geiler Bock hast ihr noch einen Geblasen, deine ganzen Haare sind nass von
ihrem Mösensaft.“ Ich beruhigte sie und sagte ihr, dass ich Cindy trösten
musste, da ich ihr nicht erlaubte, dass sie auch bei mir einziehen dürfte.
„Das wäre ja noch schöner. Meine kleine Schwester hier bei dir im Haus, damit
sie jeden Tag mit dir vögeln kann, niemals. Es reicht schon, wenn Nehle
demnächst hier einzieht.“
Ich versprach Rita, dass ich das wieder gut machen würde.
Fest stand, dass die nächste Woche spannend werden würde.
Also bis zum nächsten Mal.
* * * |
outing | Every geographical, historical, anthropological or religious reference is fruit of my imagination. Sorry for my english. | ` After two days at the Holiday Village, we understood this was not the
vacation that we were needing. Both passionately fond of fitness, we were
doing the same things we did at home, but just in another place; so, after a
visit to the ancient cities of Miletus and Alikarnassus, we decided to leave
the coast of South-West Turkey, to discover the inner lands and since three
days we stay in a little, picturesque village of west Taurus mountains. Here
the impression is of a real adventure: I can spend the time hiking the
mountains around the village, guided by an indispensable local guy, because
here are not marked paths. I don't understand a word of what he says, as like
he does not understend me; we communicate like two illiterate deaf-dumbs, up
and down for the not to much high, but so harsh high-grounds. My best friend
Linda, who accompany myself, can dedicate all her time attending the thermal
baths of the zone; also her, used to aseptic thermal resorts, finds it
exciting 'cause here the basins are digged directly into the stone, and the
masseuses treat her as a family one, telling her constantly some things that
she does'nt understand: she said me to have the impression of being on another
pleasant planet. I hope she is right, 'cause really nobody here speaks our
lenguage, nobody knows we are here and there is no trace of public order
guardians. It's like to be at an unknow tribe and don't know untill they will
be hospitable. I call back to my memory the tragic death of those two
explorers of Peruvian Amazonia, killed by local indians during an apparently
lovely conversation in two different idioms; but also this sense of danger
gives more enjoyment at our foolhardiness of twenty-year-old guys. `
Back from the hike, this evening, I've found the village strangely crowded,
usually the not much customers of the thermal baths don't spend the night
here. Linda confirmed me that since that early afternoon an unusual motion and
bustle were there. She noticed peoples with a load of goods and some others
with musical instruments, large families with animated and rowdy children; in
short an out of ordinary situation for this not turistic place. More unusual
was don't find any traces of all this when we went out, on the inn threshold,
after dinner. The usual quite of the central square in the darkness. But with
a great attention one can see , in shadowplay, male and female figures passing
in elegant clothes; the humble women of the village, so as is tradition in
muslim culture, never go out of their own house, at night; surely it was a
special occasion, but we couldn't ask it at anybody, and to quit the only
lightened place of the built-up area wasn't a good idea. We were foolhardy,
but not so crazy to wander all alone at night in Turkey! Linda, with her eyes
half open, didn't share my restlessness, but with an unexpected startup
attracted both of us at reality. My guide was appeared suddenly in front of
her with his decayed smiling. He dragged us for our clotehs, on the other side
of the wide square, the not lightened one, and pointed out a high lightened
place on the mountains, where I noticed some ruins the first day, but that he
never conducted me to visit. In a ridiculus scene he mimed a dance and asked
us, always by means of gestures, if we would like to go there. A nocturnal
adventure was what we needed and the enthusiasm in our eyes was enough to him
to understand our agreement.
We followed this squat, ill-smelling but nice mountaineer along the narrow,
dark lanes between the rude abodes. When I asserted that we were going towards
a wrong direction, he imparted us that our western dresses were no good and he
could supply to us some others; persuading especially Linda, desirous to wear
exotic articles of clothing, while I was conscious of a mysterious and
worrying situation. It vanished as soon as we were into his house, where we
were received by a merry atmosphere and a confortable western environment with
house forniture and satellitar TV, that one can't presume from the modest
external look. Maked-up women were preparing for an happening and accepted
Linda as an old friend, while my guide let me see a provided wardrobe of
traditional dresses. An elderly woman stormed into the room bringing a silver
tray and over a decorated bottle with some silver glasses, scolding because
obviously were forgotten the elementary but required good manners. My host
showed me as these mediterranean people can be affable and violent at the same
time, turning out her in a bad way, as I'd never suppose one can do with a
senior: so I considered how I was lucky he never get angry when we were into
the mountains, but also that we were not waited for and that rich plate could
not be ready to use every day, the home was dignified but not grand, it
denoted a special situation, but what was? Again this strange sensation of
anxiety inside. The lovely mountaineer calmed down and it seems he was seeking
to justify himself producing a question of time, so few minutes later Linda
and I were into two hand-embroidered, wooly tunics, so smart and comfortable
in the fresh air of this altitude.
After fifteen or twenty minutes of hard walking along the restive of an
ancient road, whose entrance was hiden by a clump of trees, we were at the old
human installation. Immediately we realized that our dressing and our tanning
camouflaged us perfectly, we could move at will without arouse curiosity or
embarrassment: but why, anyway, all this mystery? Everything was more or less
as at the country feasts I was present in Europe, with medieval recallings,
ancient musics and clothes, torch lightining, little marketing. Of course here
was not a recalling, it was the present and was not for tourists or business,
so I decided to let me involve by the excitement of Linda and enjoy the music,
the dances, the scents and the flavours of that pleasant night; forgetting my
distrust. Therefore I can notice that the people was really more jovial then
usually, above all the women who let appreciate their intense faces and,
partially their bodies, nomore hidden into their traditional black spacious
dresses. Our "cicerone", extinguished the electric torch he used to illuminate
our journey, invited us to reach a stall crowded in persons busy to joke and
drink. He offered us a drink, showing us as it must be gulped down. A
colorless beverage was poured into metal glasses just dry cleaned between a
customer and another. Watching Linda, usually so over-nice, take it and gulp
down, I understood how she was more relaxed and serene then me; she said it
was delightful, so sweet and thick. Also the guide was satisfied, so I drank
the non-alcholic liquor, it seemed a withered fruit juice, with the addition
of acacia honey, but with a very bitter backflavour, as if you were chewing
green grass; was it possible they didn't be conscious of this?
I posed the glass and thanked the mountaineer, who answered me with a bright
smile; immediately the troublesome traditional sound hit my ears and I felt
all the smiling eyes of the onlookers beging me to dance. I satisfied them and
mingling with the joyful people, I enjoyed that summer atmosphere into an
exotic country, accompanied by the laughters of the best friend of mine.
After an half hour of pure enjoying I went to a lightless side, to take
breath. Here the feast was lived in a different way, there were families in
prayer and very smart children with their disquieting eyes; it seems they were
waiting for something. I could not watch them, 'cause I felt guilty for my
thoughtlessness and turning toward the rocky wall overhanging us, I saw for
the first time a recent wood installation, not enlightened, but ready to use
and I had the sensation of a dejŕ-vu. It was like I was the protagonist of
"The rats in the wall" by H.P.Lovecraft, and I was going down into the
mountain! Linda was near me offering another drink, I told her to go away
'cause there was surely an imminent danger, but she answered me don't be
foolish, and moreover we didn't know the way and our guide cannot be found.
The feast goes on more brilliant then ever, the music and the colours, and the
people seems to have let go the retrictive brakes. Some men were already
almost nude and in order to demonstrate their own courage, hurt themselves
with baldes, when a louder rull of drums attracted the attention of the people
towards the dark side, I can see some black dressed monks light the torchs on
and around the installation: I can't believe it's happening, of course it's
just a coreography, but why? We are the only two tourists! I can't resist, I
have to see, I approach at the banisters that surrounds the altar followed by
Linda, always happy when I swing my starvation; she's laughing, obviously she
still considers this just a festival, she doesn't know what is going to
happen. Bumping into other bodies I felt they were, like me, dressed just with
a tunic and also the women; the traditional muslim pudency was forget for a
night. Also Linda, drawen close to me for not to lose me into the crowd, has
no bra and I can feel her hard nipples against my back. We are just good
friends since childhood and we have never sexually intercourse, anyway is
always pleasant her body contact, but not exciting. The crowd is still dancing
at the insistent sound of music, is impossible to stay motionless here, while
the increased array of the monks is proceeding into their ceremonies: part of
them kneel down and start to psalmodize, imitated by everybody when the music
suddenly stops and the other officiaitngs ripped the drape exposing the icon
of the most reassuring and terrible symbol that humanity invented. She, the
one hundred tits Goddess, Mother Earth. Linda is surprised by this and into
the roaring of all this people starting to psalmodize, closing stronger to me
and kissing me on a cheek, evidently enraptured, she screams into my ear her
joy for this feast dedicated to the women. I am going to answer her she is
wrong, when my attention is captured by the contemporary entrance of monks
carrying eight heavy braziers and of four younger bald guys, dressed in
purple. This is the night, my heart goes mad into my breast, I need to undress
but an imminent erection represses me, while the sound of the prayers, slowly
but louder then that of the istruments orbits all over us into an endless
"crescendo".
The monks descend by the altar area and trough a side-door go downside it, as
I descend deeper into the mountain; the four guys upside, at first they make
ritual gestures for the Goddess, then, accompanied by the followers' prayers,
start to dance with a sweet and repeating movement 'till they undress, they
clean theirself bodies with fragrant water and pronouncing something I
couldn't hear into this deafening noise, in a quick course they seize a black,
very sharp stone from a brazier and mutilate their boby of the genital
apparatus. The crowd greet the event with a long continuous delivering
ululation, wich I joined enjoying one of the greatest orgasm I ever had.
Suddenly the music started again, and the celebrations too, but more and more
frantic then before, the people was not really dancing, the hands slip into
the tunics reciprocally, even some sexual intercourses were consummate; the
nature is asking its revenge; so I turn still excited, resolute to fuck Linda
for the first time in my life. I find her still kneeled, panting and amazed,
but when she see me standing up with an overbearing erection and a large stain
of sperm on my tunic, she get frightened and standing up herself to, try to
distract me pointing to the altar. There, a group of monks relieve and dress
again the four new "Archigalli", one wraps the "presents" and put them at the
base of the statue and some others are opening the gates on each side of the
banister: all them are bloody and smiling, from their bald heads to naked
feet, evidently the floor of the altar area was a grill. Now, pushing across
this endless orgiastic crowd, the families that I've seen before to pray in
the half-light, they enter into the sacred area and carry their children near
the altar. They are more or less ten or twelve years old, they are crying and
trembling for this unknown situation and for the unaware of their future. They
seek reassourance in their parents, but are just these parents, helped by the
monks, who undressed them and with a ritual knife that every family hold,
immolate their manhood at the Goddess, then bring them proudly, almost fainted
and soiled of blood, across the crowd who revere these little unintentional
saints and try to buy to any price their "relics".
Linda clings to me, we're all in a sweat, she throw a leg round my body and I
can feel against my buttock the tiny live volcano between her legs; then she
screams into my ear, but into this noise it's as she whispers:"Why don't make
it, you to?" I had forget that she knows. I said we never sexually intercourse
and it's true, but our confidence was such that we often take our shower
together, or sometimes we masturbated simultaneously looking at mutually.
Once, after a hard work day, we were taking a shower together; we had quarrel
for professional questions, during that afternoon, so she, joking came into
the bathroom grasping a pair of scissors and said:"If you'll do it again, I
will castrate you!" I was naked and I had to turn towards the wall, to hide my
erection, but she insisted 'til will not rule me and laughing said: "I was not
believing that tou were waiting it!" I tried to joke about it and justify
telling it was just a masturbatory fantasy, but didn't succeed to convince her
and since that day she share actual everything of me, also this disgrace. "Why
don't make it, you to?" I answered :"Because I will regret it!" She
insisted:"No, you will regret if you don't take advantage of this occasion."
My heart stops to beat, she has pronounced the magical formula, invisible
hands undress me and push me towards the altar. The light of the torchs
increases until I can see nothing but the Goddess and the body that I'm
living, under a purple sky I watch it go upstairs; I feel as the victims
climbing the aztec pyramids, I could collaps in every moment if I was alive,
but I don't breathe and stop in front of Her. I seize the penis that lose its
hardness spraying some prostatic liquid, with the left hand, I seize the black
stone with the right one therefore with a rapid gesture I detach it from the
body. The heart start to beat madly again, a liquid warm sensation slide along
my legs, but I feel no pain, the night sang out the sublime hymn of the
seraphs and I honour it stretching up my left arm with his victory trophy at
the tip. When I turn, I can see an amorphous multitude of pink carcases
acclaiming me. And Linda. With her legs wide apart, she lift up the tunic to
her hips and I can see a pill of mucus great as a new born child, come out
from her cunt while she has a hysteric orgasm. I come down the staircases
towords her, always brandishing my trophy that a lot ask for to have; violets
break from the rocks where I settle the feet; I reach her that embraces an
kisses me as a brother back from the hereafter.
That night I dreamed about my visit to John the Baptist; he asked me if I
would like to be christened in water, if I believed that the Holy Ghost could
come down over me doing this. I answered that I could see that white dow
flying over my head, but I was not worthy of Its putting down to me. He asked
me why, I said because I have a bad habit that I can't stop: I tried so hard,
but I can't stop to touch myself. He said to me to undress and pray with Him
for my salvation, the water baptism wasn't enough for it, but surely, if I
desired it and pray hard a help would come from heaven. In fact, later, a
grandiose figure appeared before us seizing a flaming sword. He asked to John
with his roaring voice: "Is him the elected? Is him ready for the baptism of
fire?" John noddled and held me motionless. I was incredulous that Gabriel the
Archangel was talking about me. Then I was surprised and honoured when Him,
with an exact downright stroke, cut my cock off.
The morning after I wake up into the inn bedroom. I'm thirsty, I shiver with
cold and I'm so tired. The room appeares me as under a fish-eye, hardly I can
lift up my head and focalize the scene.When I succeed I've the surprise to see
the doctor of the Holiday Village busy above my groin and Linda helping him. I
can't move my legs. The doctor has barely ended to suture my wound and
inserted a little catheter. Into my head dream and remembrance are mixed, but
the only certain sensation I had is confirmed by reality: I am dickless. I lie
down again, really surprised of this peacefull sensation, I always thought one
have to be desperate after castration; it comes to my mind the poetry of
Catullo about the complaints of the next day and I laugh. Linda is over me,
watching me. Her face is a mixed one between pity and relief, it's very tried.
A masculine voice declares sadly:"It's an ugly wound, I have make what I've
been able, but he has lost a lot of blood and would have been better to carry
him in a hospital." Linda turns to him and detaining the tears shakes her head
to say no. She looks me again and after a sigh says: "Excuse me, but I didn't
know who to call, you have done me pendant such a fear! Now he has given you a
calmant, but you were suffering so much, were having high fever and have lost
a heap of blood." Only listen to her give me the nausea, my head was turning
and the room was becoming more spherical then before; the doctor covers me
telling that to speak lift up the temperature and of not to force, but I have
to know and ask to my friend:"Who carried me here? Might I walk?" Linda said:
"Your feet have carried you, certainty that you can walk, or rather, were
running. You were seeming gone crazy!" Then she doesn't succeed to detain the
tears and the doctor try to distract her wondering between how many days we
should leave. "Five days" "Well"he replies "'cause i believe that for the next
three or four days he will not be able to walk on, moreover I would like that
you passed from me before living the Turkey. If you want I'll able to give you
a good address for a prothesis."
Linda doesn't answer and turn looking for an accomplice look, I smile and I
force to lift myself head and say:"Then, no climbings, tomorrow!" She is got
angry and exclaims:"You already have stunned enough, the mountain!" I Was
believing her my pits accomplice, negative surprises me this reaction so say:
"Not the mountain has been, but the drink at the festival" She:"You know that
here they all are muslims, it was just fruit juice. It seemed that you were
amusing, but when they have began to circumcise the children you're literally
gone crazy. Have tried many times to strip and to put your hands on me, you
were obscene. Your guide and I were compelled to carry you at the inn, to
strip, to wash with cold water and to put you into a bed. Half hour later you
ran to the bathroom; I've thought you should vomit; I have heard a bustle and
I asked what were being, no answer, so I went in the bathroom and saw the
scene..." she detains an attempt at vomiting, then, after a little
continues:"You had your multifunction knife in the right hand, bloody, you
seemed immerse into the blood from the belt to feet and..." another attempt
"... you had your left arm pointed to the chandelier, grasping in the hand
what you know" and starts to cry. The doctor, who has listened attentive,
intervenes:"Don't you remember anything?" I'm displeased for her, I shake my
head 'cause I cannot speak, above all, I can't say waht I remember, I would
seem crazy. "If you never have assisted to a circumcision, it can be
comprehensible..." says the medicine speaking alone "Anyway I was here two
hours later, too late to think it was possible attach it again, you have
really risked to die." Linda noddling and smiling caresses a cheek of mine.
She thanks and dismisses the doctor who teachs her for the following days.
The last day we spent here we went to the ancient remains to bury the fetish
that she had preserved into an empty jar of jam. She thought that was right I
let my manhood where I decided to lose it.
* * * |
|
The Gelding Reception | STRAIGHT, WARNING, BI, PENECTOMY, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION | <STRONG>The Wedding Party, and The Gelding Reception.<BR></STRONG>Part 1 (Synopsis) <STRONG>\"The Wedding Party\".<BR></STRONG>A couple decides to get married at a rather unusual ceremony. She agrees to lose her virginity in front of the wedding guests, and, since they do not want children, he agrees to be castrated as they consummate the union.<BR>Part 2 (Synopsis) <STRONG>The Gelding Reception\". </STRONG>(This story)<BR>The reception is sponsored by Authenticock, Strap-On, Squirting Dildos, who has their crew and equipment standing-by, including their nifty new, genital guillotine, to nullify the eager guests, and to later supply-them, with their famous, real-cock dildos, with their patented, refillable, squirting balls.<BR><STRONG>(For background, read: The College Girls Go For Real Dildos\", Parts 1-8).</STRONG> | `
**The Wedding Party
Part 2: The Gelding Reception
**
No sooner were the carnal effects of the Wedding and its’ aftermath, with
Tracy’s randy festivities, over-with, than the Authenticock host-ladies
appeared with magnums of champagne, in long-stemmed tulip glasses, and passed-
around tasty hors d’oeuvres, and miniature, little individual hot quiches. A
groaning buffet-board was also wheeled out, by the caterers, bearing a huge
roast beef, a suckling piglet, with a baked-apple in his mouth, plates of
chilled oysters on ice, Jumbo Shrimp Cocktail, a terrine of cold vichyssoise
soup, ramekins of fresh Beluga Caviar and pate-de-fois-gras, fresh vegetables,
crudites, and, finally, a large, carved ice-sculpture in the shape of a
fiercely-erect cock and balls! Everyone was invited to enjoy themselves and
loosen-up for the festivities to come. The organist played everything from
College drinking songs, to cool-rap, and some of the group even started
dancing. The more champagne that appeared, the happier the ensemble got, not
surprisingly!
Eventually, Gloria and Sharon, the co-chairpersons of Authenticock, called the
group somewhat to order, as Tracy tapped loudly on her empty champagne glass
with a castration knife. When Gloria had most of their attention, she launched
into a discourse on Authenticock, and how they might provide services for
today’s discerning young women. She demonstrated the various styles of strap-
ons available, and discussed how the women might be able to talk their
humpies, into giving up their real cocks and balls for use in the strap-ons.
"Despite Mrs. Robinson, in ‘The Graduate’," Sharon added, "PLASTICS are old-
hat! Girls today are looking for the real thing, both in their increasing bi-
sexual and Lesbian relationships, as well as with male partners."
The horny teen, Tracy, chipped in, "The great thing about these dildos, is
that they're made from REAL cocks, which you can either cut off your humpies
yourself, or buy from us. As we like to say, ‘We chop ‘em daily!’ In either
case, they come with a full set of refillable balls, which gives an
opportunity for either you, or your partner to squirt over two to three-times
more "sperm", than was possible from your donor-humpy, out of a nice, big
(eight-inch minimum) penis, that is erect 24/7! Compare THAT with your tired,
old relationship!"
Sharon added, "OK, you’ve seen how efficient and fun our guillotine can be.
Note the hand-carved inscription:
**Our Basket Waits For Your Basket.** This new model can accommodate the quick
removal, of your guy’s entire package at the same time, after we get him
double-banded with our new extra-large elastrator banding-tool. If you can
squeeze your guy’s cock and balls through a two, to two-and-a-half-inch-wide
cock ring, like you saw Selene use today, he’s a candidate for this new,
larger banding-tool. This not only speeds-up the whole operation, but keeps
his entire, severed package together, in one piece, as you’d like to have it
in your strap-on. Also, some of you gals have asked to have one made-up, to
hang from the rear-view mirror of your pick-up truck, or SUV! We’ll supply a
tie-wrap and gold chain so the package can hang horizontally-balanced, from
the mirror, to swing back and forth, in a realistic, fucking movement, as you
drive down the road! It’ll also help discourage male hitch-hikers, or car-
jackers, for sure! OK, Any questions? ....None? ... Alright, who’s ready to be
the first volunteer, out there, guys?"
Sharon saw several ladies prodding their husbands or humpies forward, toward
the guillotine. One gal was heard to say, "C’mon, you never use it on ME any
more! All you want to do is get into my girl friends’pants! Let me make a
nice, squirting, strap-on dildo of it, and you’ll be into more of their tight,
little pussies than you could ever IMAGINE!"
Well, THAT hot dialogue, tied to what they’d seen go-down today already,
coupled with the loosening-up effect of the large quantity of champagne,
started the whole crowd into enthusiastic discussion, and before you knew it,
at least HALF the guys had dropped their pants, and were lining up at the
guillotine, to get banded and cut, accompanied by their happy humpies and
wives, who were jumping up and down, "Hi-Fiveing" each other, and checking out
the different strap-on styles at the booth. At this point, the ever-horny
teen, Tracy, had totally stripped, inserted the ten-inch-long half, of a
strap-on double-ended dildo all the way into her pussy, and was explaining the
procedures of refilling the squirtable balls, while the foot-long other half
of the double-dildo, waved in the breeze, to the left and right, in front of
her! Nearly everyone ended up wanting one of THESE, even though Tracy
carefully told them, that they now needed to find TWO humpies, willing to
forfeit their big tools!
Both Gloria and Sharon took turns banding the men, after checking with a
ruler, that their cocks were all at least eight inches long. Several guys
didn’t pass muster, and were a bit upset, when Sharon explained, somewhat
untactfully, that if these horny girls were looking for "needle-dicks", they
wouldn’t need dildos in the first place! But most of the rejects were so
loaded with Champagne, they just grinned and moved back to the buffet table,
where the caterers had just trotted-out a great platter of huge kielbasas and
sauerkraut! Perfect choice!~
By the time the girls got a half-dozen of the studs double-banded, and up to
full, shiny erections, the bulk of the crowd moved over toward the guillotine,
which was obviously going to be kept busy today! This freed-up the precocious
Tracy, from the booth, who sure didn’t want to miss getting in on the serious
action. She didn’t bother to change, and so, ran over, still naked, to the
chopper, with her ample tits bouncing up and down along with her still-
imbedded double dildo, waving in front. "Lemme help, lemme help," she
hollered, as the first gent stepped up to the plate.
"OK," answered Gloria, as she pulled the heavy steel blade, up to the release-
catch at the cross-bar, at the top of the columns. "Get the stretch-cord tied
around his big cock and balls, and pull on it to where the rubber bands line
up with the chop mark. You know the drill, Tracy!" She did indeed, and
remarked what a particularly nice, huge cock and set of balls, they were about
to cut off. Sharon placed the three-inch-wide, hole block top half, down onto
the lower half, after centering the man’s entire package in the round hole.
She then inserted the block’s fastening pegs, through the columns, to secure
the blocks. Once he was strapped-in and secure, Tracy handed the trip-lever
cord to the guy’s girlfriend, who at this point was so excited, she had both
hands under her skirt, flogging her vulva and clit. Tracy raised the girl’s
skirt, saw she was twisting her clit with her left hand, pulled her right hand
out of her pussy, and put the trip cord in it!
"Are we lined-up, Sharon?" Tracy questioned. Sharon checked the position of
the two little green donuts, and asked her to pull his package out a bit more.
Once the cutting channel lined up with the chopping groove, she smiled at the
young humpy, now trembling in orgasm, and gave her a nod. The girl said
nothing to him, only flashing him a big grin, and yanked on the cord. The
heavy blade, shining in the afternoon sun, shot down the double channel-posts,
slamming through his thick, hard prick, and ball-sack, like they were butter!
The blade thudded to a halt on the angled stopping-block, and the severed,
gigantic cock and balls, quivered in place for several seconds, looking for
all the world as if the blade had missed!, as the crowd gasped. But then it
rolled sideways, and down the ramp, landing with a plop in the wicker basket.
The crowd roared, and the young girlfriend, still in mid-orgasm, grabbed the
huge phallus, from the basket, fell to the grass, turned the head towards her,
and rammed it full-length, into the depths of her dripping cunt, to where only
the still-attached, packed balls were all that remained visible. That sent
half the group into groaning orgasms themselves. The suturing nurse, Amanda,
released the guy from the guillotine, and began sewing up his wound, where his
genitals had just departed. Tracy slid into a chair, and began pumping her
double-dildo in and out of herself, until she came, and her young pussy was
bubbling with her hot juices.
The next guy in line was so hot ... and drunk!, he didn’t wait for any of the
normal guillotine procedures, but pushed himself into the machine, raised the
chopping blade with his bare hands, pushed his banded cock and balls into the
slot, and dropped the heavy blade on them! He was a good shot! They landed
right in the basket, and the horny Tracy missed the whole scene!
But Gloria and Sharon didn’t! Sensing that this gelding reception might get
out of hand, they made a friendly protocol announcement, that everyone needed
to keep their order in line, and under no circumstances, were the guests to
try to use the guillotine by themselves, as it was too dangerous, and if they
ended up cutting one of castration-bands, they could be in serious jeopardy.
Sharon went on to suggest, "If some of you are getting restless, or a little
drunk, why don’t we try to get two activities going at once! Tracy, you can
run this guillotine pretty much by yourself. I see you have a long line of
donors! While Gloria and I can have some fun with the cutting- bench, and the
fucking-chair. Several of you gals have told us you’d like to get pregnant, as
your husband hasn’t been able to get the job done, and you’d like to try-out
one of these big cocks, before we chop them all off."
One of the guests, Anna, spoke up, "Why don’t you try out my husband, Randy’s,
stud services? We don’t want any more children, which is why we’re here, to
get him castrated. He has a beautiful, huge cock, and a monster set of nuts,
which can pump sperm forever, once he gets hot!" At that point, three other
women spoke up and waved their arms.
"Oh, can we have a shot at him,?"
Gloria looked over at Randy, and questioned if that was alright with him.
"Are you kidding?" Randy replied. "Let’s get to it! I’ve got enough pent-up
sperm in these puppies, to fill-up all three of them! You’ve just got to have
a way to pinch off the supply, during the time you’re changing to the next
girl!"
"Nurse Amanda, come on over," requested Sharon. "I think you can help us with
this. You can finish suturing-up the guillotine crowd, when we’re done getting
these girls knocked-up!"
"You bet," Amanda replied, "‘Sounds like fun!"
Gloria asked Randy to strip down and lay on his back on the bench. "I guess we
won’t need any banding, at this point!" Randy immediately stripped, and
climbed onto the bench, with his massive cock already erect and waving in the
wind. "OK," Gloria continued, "You three girls can strip-down and wait in-line
next to the fucking-chair." The girls started giggling, and couldn’t get their
clothes off fast enough! "Who’s first?" asked Gloria.
Ginger stabbed her fist in the air, and hollered, "ME! ME! Oh, God I can’t
wait to get-down on THAT beauty!" And with that, she climbed into the leather-
strapped, swinging chair, with Sharon’s help, and positioned her already-
dripping pussy directly over the ample, open-space in the middle of the seat-
straps. Randy’s wife, Anna, came over and sucked his huge cock-head into her
mouth, slathered it with spit, and plunged as much of it as she could, down
her throat, while she squeezed his giant balls. Ginger anxiously watched the
hot action, and remarked, "My God, those nuts are the size of tennis balls! No
wonder he can shoot so much sperm!"
Anna had gotten him maximumly hard, and withdrew her mouth off his great cock,
the skin stretched to shining stiffness in the bright sun-light. "Isn’t that a
beauty?", she asked, redundantly. "This boy is ready to fire!"
Sharon swung the chair out, on it’s cantilevered arm, positioning it so that
Ginger’s vulva, was directly above Randy’s rampant erection. As she lowered
the swing, Anna reached under, and grasped her husband’s pulsing prick,
positioning it directly into Ginger’s dripping, anxious pussy. He pushed his
hips up into her, just as Sharon dropped the chair down, impaling her on his
entire fourteen-inches of rigid cockmeat, in one drop! Ginger’s eyes bulged,
her arms flew into the air, her big tits flopped audibly against her chest,
and she let out a piercing, "HI - O - Silver!"
Even Tracy, who had a big set of cock and balls ready to chop, over at the
guillotine, had to stop and watch! Without thinking, she yanked the drop cord,
and ran over to watch Ginger getting skewered. The neglected fellow’s whole
package came off, and rolled into the catch-basket with a thud, with only his
(now former) girlfriend applauding. Amanda stood by the bench, waiting for
Randy to start cumming, so she could pinch it off, as they changed to the next
girl in line, and Tracy returned to her relentless guillotine duties,
surprised to find the last guy's big set of cock and balls, in the basket! She
had it down, to where she was cutting two banded guys a minute!
Meanwhile, two beautiful, black girls thought this fucking-chair looked like
too much fun to miss. They ripped their clothes off, and joined the line.
After two or three minutes of Sharon’s jamming the girl up and down Randy’s
huge cock, in the fucking-chair, Randy began thrusting up, as Ginger came
down, slamming his great prick into her so deeply, and with such force, that
his swollen balls slammed up and pounded the girl’s erect clitoris, on every
thrust! This sent them both over the edge, and they started shaking, with
their violent orgasms. Randy began pumping bolt after bolt of hot sperm into
Ginger’s dripping, quivering twat, and deep into her uterus. The chair would
lift her a foot into the air, while the flared glans of Randy’s fiercely
squirting cock, still remained inside her swamped vagina, and then Sharon
would drop her down again, as Randy thrust up, spraying their collective cum-
juices out of her shaved pookie, in all directions! Amanda, Sharon, Gloria,
and most everybody nearby, were being sprayed with sperm and Ginger’s running
pussy-juice! Finally, Nurse Amanda, suddenly reached between them, on an up-
stroke, grasped Randy’s pulsing cock, and strongly squeezed off the shooting
sperm, while she waved to Sharon with her other hand, to lift the swing out of
there, get Ginger out of it, and the next girl in. Sharon knew just what to
do, and got Ginger unloaded, and the next girl into the chair. As she swung
the new girl out over Randy, the girl grinned, gave him a cute wave, and said,
"Hi ... I’m Trixie!"
"I’ll BET you are!" grinned Randy, as Amanda fitted his giant cock-head into
her with one hand, and relaxed her clamped grip with the other. A second
later, Sharon dropped the chair down, and impaled the young girl on Randy’s
squirting, rampant prick, as he was buried to the balls in her.
"OH, my goodness!" she squealed, as her eyes bugged-out, and she grabbed her
pert breasts, squeezing and twisting the hard nipples.
The vigilant Amanda, allowed about ten blasts of hot sperm, deep into her
uterus, to hopefully impregnate her, then reached under her on an upswing, and
gripped Randy’s cock tightly again, cutting off the sperm-spewing urethra, and
waved to Sharon to hoist Trixie out of there, and get the next girl ready.
"Geez, I didn’t get much of a ride on that lovely cock!," Trixie complained.
"Well, sweetie," Amanda explained, "We’ve got three more ... whoops, FOUR more
girls, and a lot of sperm to go!" She noticed a new girl had entered the fray,
behind the two black girls. As Sharon loaded the next girl into the chair,
Amanda turned to Randy’s wife, Anna, and, holding up Randy's nuts, said, " I
hope he’s got enough sperm in these babies, to service all of these girls!"
"No worries," Anna replied, "if he starts slowing down, I’ll start squeezing
those big balls, and he’ll be shooting full-bore again! You wouldn’t BELIEVE
how much he can squirt!"
"I believe! ... I believe!," Amanda answered, as she fitted the new girl,
Irene, onto the glans of Randy’s throbbing prick. When Sharon saw they were
ready, she dropped the new girl onto the huge phallus, just as Amanda relaxed
her grip, allowing Randy’s sperm to start shooting immediately, deep into the
girl's already-dripping cunt.
The massive penetration initially took Irene’s breath away, and she started
gasping and rocking back and forth, to try to get every last inch of the
erupting penis all the way into her womb, with it’s hot, impregnating fluid.
She chanted, "Ya,... Ya,... Ya,..." to the rhythm of the raising and lowering
chair, and added, "Oh, shit! That feels SO fucking good! I can feel that big,
flared cock-head spraying my vagina, full of cream!". Amanda allowed her about
ten more shots of sperm, reached under her, and cut off the spray, as Sharon
alertly kept raising the chair, swung her over and deposited her on the
ground, to crys of "Oh, no! Oh no! Not yet! That was SO nice!"
The two gorgeous black girls stood naked as jay-birds, next in line. They
introduced themselves as two twin-sisters, Mocha, and Chocolate, and they
surely did look good enough to eat! They had a lovely, dark-red, milk-
chocolate color, smoothly-shaved pussies, and firm, upthrust breasts, capped
by beautiful, puffy aureolas, centered with large, erect nipples that looked
like Beaujolais wine-corks! Sharon interjected, while seating Mocha, "Why, on
Earth, would you two beauties want to get pregnant?"
"‘Cause all of our boyfriends are black, and we’d like to ‘lighten-up the gene
pool’, so to speak! We think that if they had a white Daddy, they’d be
beautiful kids. Plus, if they’re boys, and genetically inherit a cock like
THIS," pointing over at Randy, "they’re bound to grow-up successful, and
happy, pleasing all the ladies!"
At that point, Sharon swung the leather chair out, over Randy, exclaiming,
"‘Works for ME!" She lowered the seat slowly, until Amanda indicated she had
Randy’s glans into Mocha’s vulva, and released her grip on his pulsing prick,
so he could resume shooting his endless supply of sperm. Sharon decided to
tease the cute Mocha for a minute, just easing the chair up and down quickly,
only driving two or three inches of the immense cock into her each time. This
drove Mocha crazy with anticipation, as she pled with Sharon, "Cmon, girl,
quit teasing me. Gimme the whole thing!"
"OK, sweetie, you asked for it!," Sharon replied. "Welcome to the World of
Deep Cock!" Whereupon, she dropped the chair down, allowing Mocha’s light
weight, to impale herself to the hilt on his pumping prick.
Mocha’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree, as she started pulling on her
prominent clit, and yelled, "Oh, Lordy! That’s the biggest, thickest, longest,
baddest thing, I have EVER had up my little pookie! I can feel that huge head,
squirting that hot sperm, clear to the bottom of me in there! Oh, is that
beautiful! Fill me up, Stud! Make me plenty babies in there!"
Amanda was so taken with Mocha, she let her have twice as much sperm pumped
into her, than any of the other girls. As she eventually reached under her,
and pinched off Randy’s ejaculation, she told Mocha, "Listen, sweetie, now you
go-off and lay on your back in the grass, and stuff a tissue in there, so none
of that nice stuff can run out of you. Then you’ll have a much better chance
of catching!"
Mocha thanked her, as she stepped out of the swing chair, and changed places
with her equally gorgeous twin-sister, Chocolate. She exchanged a few
pleasantries with Sharon, who then swung her out over Randy, saying, "Good
Luck, honey!"
Amanda quickly fitted Randy’s giant tool into her tiny, shaved pussy, nodded
to Sharon, and loosened her grip on his pumping prick, as Sharon dropped the
girl the full fourteen-inches of his thick, squirting shaft, in one fell-
swoop. Chocolate was so un-nerved, she had to grab the sides of the fucking-
chair, to steady herself. "Oh my God!" she croaked, looking back at Randy, "
You have absolutely hit bottom! Jesus, I knew it was huge, but I didn’t
realize it was THAT huge!"
As Sharon pumped the chair up and down, so the full-length of his glistening,
veiny shaft kept ramming in-and-out of her, Chocolate squealed, "God, look at
all of my juice, and your sperm spraying out of me when she jams my tight,
little coozie down to the very root of your beautiful, shooting dick!" Amanda,
realizing there was only one person left in line, and that they hadn’t even
had to resort to squeezing his gigantic balls yet, let Chocolate ride-out a
dozen more blasts of sperm, before she pinched Randy off, and nodded to Sharon
that that was enough.
Seeing what was running down Chocolate’s long, lovely legs, and bubbling out
of her still-trembling vulva, Sharon grabbed a Kleenex, and stuffed it quickly
into Chocolate, thus stemming the tide. "Now go lay on your back, with your
legs up in the air for an hour or so. You want to keep all those goodies you
can, in there, if you want to get knocked-up!" Chocolate thanked her, and
traded places with the last candidate for "Mothers Day".
Eighteen-year-old, Claudette, who was a friend of Tracy’s from school,
introduced herself all-around. She explained that she was really here, to get
her humpy cut, and his eleven-and-a-half-inch prick, made into a nice strap-
on. But when she saw all the girls wanting to get pregnant, she said she’d
always wanted to have a baby, but that her humpy had been shooting blanks, and
she’d just had Tracy chop his cock and balls off, anyway.
"OK," interjected Randy, "Well, hop-aboard, and let's see, if I can get you
fixed up! My wife’s figuring on lopping these goodies off today, anyway, for a
strap-on. You may be my final implantee!"
"Jesus!", cried out Claudette. "Is she CRAZY? Why would she want to chop
anything THIS gorgeous OFF?," as she squeezed the dripping glans, just ahead
of where Amanda had his sperm pinched-off. "This is the most beautiful example
of a cock, I’ve ever seen!"
"Well get in the chair, and fuck his brains out, sweetie," encouraged Sharon,
looking at her watch.
"Yes, please ..." added Amanda. "My hand’s getting tired, and I can’t hold
this stuff back forever!"
"Sorrrry," apologized Claudette, as she sat in the chair, positioning her
bare, and now- dripping, pussy over the middle of the straps, and let Sharon
strap her in. She was then swung out by the cantilevered arm, and aimed right
for his engorged, throbbing rod. Sharon was getting good at this!
Amanda grabbed her shapely leg, and positioned her, right over Randy’s cock
head. She nodded at Sharon, let go of his stiff, squirting prick, as Claudette
slid down the entire fourteen-inches in one drop, with a huge grin on her
face. After a couple of up-and-down pumps from Sharon, and the feeling of
Randy’s continuously-ejaculating penis, deep in the bottom of her cunt,
Claudette hollered, "Now this is what I call FUCKING! Christ, if my humpy
could have done THIS, I wouldn’t have cut his dick off! ... Strap-on or no
strap-on! Can I squeeze your fabulous balls, Randy? I want to milk them one-
by-one, and feel your hot sperm shooting into me! I LOVE doing that, with my
well-hung humpies!"
"Be my guest," answered Randy, with a big grin. "Squeeze them really hard! I
love that!"
She reached down and took a testicle in each hand ... they barely fit in her
tiny hands! She started alternately squeezing them, left, right, left, right,
until she had a good, milking rhythm going, and she could actually feel
individual sprays of cum, flooding her cunt, with each squeeze. He encouraged
her to crush his nuts, harder and harder, as she milked them, which she did.
By now the bulk of the sperm and her vaginal juices, were absolutely sloshing
out of her pussy entrance, and running off the castration bench, onto the
grass.
"‘C’mon, squeeze ‘em, baby, ... harder! Crush the sperm out of them!" By now
she was squeezing them as hard as she could, as he egged-her-on, and she
became afraid she might pop them, as her hands were pretty strong! "Harder!,"
he urged her. "Use your thumbs too!"
At this point, Sharon stopped raising and lowering the chair, and left it in
the fully-down position, so that his long, thick cock was into her, to the
maximum depth, as she watched what was going on, and wondered how much Randy’s
nuts could possibly take. Claudette convulsed into a shattering orgasm, as her
quivering vagina, milked his continuously-shooting prick. He felt her cumming,
and cried out, in what must have been a mixture of pain and pleasure, as he
kept urging her on. "Jam, your thumbs into the middle of my nuts, as you
squeeze them. Look at all the sperm you’re pumping out!" As she kept cumming,
she pushed her thumbs deep into the middle of the twin orbs, with all her
might, when suddenly, everyone heard two sickening, explosive, "POP! ...
POPs!", as both his testicles burst, and became formless mush in her hands.
"Oh, my God, Randy ... I’ve popped your nuts! ... I’m SO SORRY!," pleaded
Claudette, as she stared down, at the form-less lumps in her hands, directly
in front of the still-stiff and squirting, monster cock, imbedded into the
bottom of her snatch.
"Jesus, that hurt!", blurted out Randy. "No, please ... don’t feel bad about
that, honey! You did just what I wanted you to do! ‘Just what I ASKED you to
do! I’m having them chopped off today, anyway, along with my prick, and I
always wanted to know what it would feel like, to have a pretty girl bust my
balls! Now I know! Hey, kiddo, you are one strong chick! I love it! Now you
know what you can do to some nasty dude, who wants to get into your pants,
when you don’t want to fuck him!"
"Ya, but still, Randy, you had such beautiful, big balls, which held so much
delicious sperm! I’m SO sorry! What is your wife going to do now, for her
squirting balls, in her strap-on?"
Tracy, who heard the two balls explode, knew just what had happened, and took
a break from her guillotine activities, to come over to the bench, and see if
she could help. She gave Randy a pat on his cute butt, and proceeded to
console Claudette. "Listen, I did the same thing awhile-back, at the
Authenticock castration offices. I was desperately trying to shove one guy’s
second huge testicle, into the stretched, elastrator-band, when I used my two
thumbs too hard, and BANG,... his whole nut exploded inside his scrotum, into
a mess of spaghetti! ... Very much like you’ve got here!," as she took Randy’s
sack up in both hands, and could feel the cords and ducts slide about, in a
thick jelly-like mass. "‘Feels like tapioca!," Tracy added, helpfully. "But
probably wouldn’t taste as good!," she contributed, with a grin.
Sharon decided she’d heard enough, and didn’t want her horny teen to get out
of hand, as Tracy often could, and did. "Ya, well, we’re not going to taste
it! A little dignity, here, Tracy, this man’s just lost his beautiful, big
nuts!"
"Ya, but he’s next on my list to chop ‘em off, anyway!," responded Tracy.
"Besides, you know from the tanners in Arizona, the last time I popped one.
They said that as long as the tough, nut-casing is intact, they’ll have no
trouble making the refillable balls. They have to scoop-out all those
spaghetti-nasties, anyway!"
"Well, that’s true," answered Sharon, "But still....."
"Hey, skip it," interjected Randy. "She did just what I asked her to do! I
always wanted to know just how it would feel, to have a good-looking gal,
burst my balls, while they were pumping sperm up her twat, as my final fuck!
And it was a trip! I loved it! Now let’s get-on with the guillotine! It seems
like I’m your last customer of the day, Trace!"
At that, Sharon raised up the chair, as Randy’s still-rigid prick pulled out
of Claudette’s well-lubed cunt, with an audible plop. As Sharon swung her over
to the grass, Claudette's pussy was running like a faucet. Sharon handed her
the usual tissues, and advised her to cork it up for awhile, and go over and
lay on her back with Mocha, and the rest of the "mama-wannabees."
As soon as Claudette and the fucking-chair were clear of his still-erect
penis, Tracy grasped him by it and led him over to the guillotine, followed by
his wife, and the last of the ensemble, who were still here, in the late
afternoon. Gloria had busied herself, properly string-tagging and
refrigerating, all of the severed cocks and balls of the afternoon’s fun and
games. Tracy had temporarily identified them with little conventioneers'
sticker-tags, she’d found in the stationery store, which read, "Hello, I’m
**______________________."_** These, she wrapped around each banded, stiffly-
erect cock with a couple of wraps of a rubber-band. She thought they looked
fine, and couldn’t figure-out, what Gloria was making such a fuss about.
Anyway, Tracy was tired, as she’d totally nullified thirty-some guys!, and it
was time for her final gelding of the day, as she got Randy’s still-hard cock,
double-banded. She didn’t see any purpose in banding, what was left of his
balls! His wife, Anna, leaned down, and sucked the massive cock-head into her
mouth, and bit into the shaft, which she knew he liked – similar to how he
like his balls crushed!
The magnificent prick expanded to totally maximum proportions, and Tracy took
the opportunity, to slide the banded-prong of the elastrator down to the last,
fourteenth-inch, releasing the handles, and pushing the band down the final
half-inch, stretching the skin like glass, and causing the bold veins to bulge
out, like Anna had never seen them before! Anna used a sharp fingernail to pop
the tiny band off the prongs, and deep into her husband’s now-doomed cockmeat.
Tracy immediately followed with the second band, leaving only enough-room
between the two, for the heavy blade to do its' work! Tracy held the back of
his shoulders, and guided him in, to face the guillotine, strapping him to it.
She then walked around to the front, tied the stretch-cord behind the hugely-
flared head of his breathtaking prick, and pulled it out strongly, until the
cutting-channel between the two little, green bands lined up precisely, with
the great blade’s chopping notch. Then she wrapped the taut stretch-cord in
several figure-eights, around the mounted cleat she’d devised, to hold these
big cocks in place. Smilingly, she handed the trip cord to Randy’s wife, Anna,
with the words, "What’s left of his sex life, is now in your hands!"
Anna grinned, looked Randy in the eye, and said, "Well, kiddo, it was nice
while it lasted! The next time you see this beauty, it’ll be mounted in my new
strap-on, with your big balls, all nicely restored, and ready to pump even
more sperm into my girlfriends, than you ever shot today!"
At that point, all the hopefully-impregnated girls, Chocolate, Mocha,
Claudette, Ginger, Trixie, and Irene, crowded around the final dismemberment,
and pleaded with Anna to spare his glorious cock, so they could fuck him
another day. But then Tracy pointed out the problem, as she reached under his
tethered prick, and gathered up the bag of mush in her hand. "Don’t you see,"
explained Tracy, "His fucking days are over! His balls are finished! He won’t
even be able to get it up! The best we can hope for here, is a nice big,
squirting, strap-on dildo for his wife, some nice memories for you cuties,
and, hopefully, lots of babies! Savvy?" The six girls then filed slowly by the
front of the poised guillotine, and planted a big kiss, on the purple and
chilling head of his wonderful cock.
Anna re-grasped the end of the trip-cord, she’d layed down when the girls
filed by, and said quietly, "Bye, bye, beauty!". She flicked her wrist,
sending the gleaming, heavy, chrome blade on it’s inevitable path, as it
whooshed down the channels in just over a second, and, with all eyes on the
razor-sharp edge, entered the top of his magnificent penis, seeming to have
the illusion of slow-motion, as it traveled downward, through the heavy
muscles and veins, slicing through the still-sperm-packed-urethra, and on down
through the strong lower muscles, and final veins and arteries of his vital
meat, until it severed the mighty organ completely, finally slicing through
the remains of his once-bulging ballsack, and it’s cords, sperm ducts, tubes
and blood vessels, as well as exploded testicular matter, coming to a thud
against the heavy bottom-block of the device. The huge cock sat balanced for a
moment, and then toppled over, onto the little ramp headed toward the wicker
catch-basket. At first, it seemed
like the dead-weight of the scrotum and it’s contents, would slow-down the
sliding path of the heavy cock, but in a couple of seconds the formidable
weight of the great prick itself, won-out, and dragged the testicular disaster
behind it, until they both dropped into the delightful little basket, with a
solid PLOP!
The day of the Gelding was done..... **
The End.
**
* * *
` |
A N.I.C.E. Boy, Part 8 | TESTICLES, MINOR | ` A N.I.C.E. Boy, Part 8 `
Supreme Court Unanimously Supports NICE
U.S. Bulletin December 16th 2004
Today, the US Supreme Court in its decision on Elijah Larson v. the State of
Mississippi, unanimously added its support to the Natural Intervention to Curb
Evil Act, thus removing the final impediment to national implementation. Prior
to this, individual states had been required to pass similar legislation in
order to overcome legal challenges that have held the implementation of the
federal legislation with suits in four U.S. Courts of Appeal. Even with state
legislative action, realization of efforts to eradicate pedophilia once and
for
all has stalled in at least five state high courts. The U.S. Supreme Court
decision enables the National Institute for Sexual Health to carry out its
programs to eliminate the da Vinci gene, proven to cause the type of
pedophilia
involving men and young boys. Speaking on behalf of the Institute, attorney
Robert A. Schuster said. "This is a landmark decision equal to the Buck versus
Bell decision of 1927. That decision legitimized sterilization as an
appropriate
treatment for some conditions, primarily mental incompetence. We see
pedophilia
in much the same way. Mentally corrupted men have plagued our nation's
children
for much too long. With today's decision we can now complete the task of
eliminating the evil of pedophilia once and for all. What we all have to
realize
is what the Larson boy did was a depraved and shameful thing. It is evil and
indicative of what he will do to other boys in the future. He has finally
received the punishment he deserves."
Candice Larson sued the State of Mississippi on behalf of her eleven-year-old
son, Elijah, who had been required to be permanently sterilized as part of
that
state's program to eradicate pedophilia. Elijah Larson was convicted of two
counts of gross sexual imposition with a minor child last year, following an
incident when he was left at home with his eight-year-old brother. He was
observed by a neighbor as he masturbated and then performed fellatio on his
younger brother while playing in the woods behind their house. Elijah pleaded
guilty and was sentenced to spend eight years at the recently opened
Mississippi
Farm for Juvenile Sexual Deviates. Under the Mississippi legislation intended
to
stop pedophilia, surgical castration is required of all inmates of state
facilities who test positive for the da Vinci gene, either in its recessive or
dominant forms.
In the decision, Chief Justice, Alvin C. Brown wrote:
"In the course of human history, there comes those difficult moments in time
when actions must be taken to intervene in the natural order. This is such a
point in time. There is clear and convincing evidence that Elijah Larson is a
pedophile in the making. That he had no qualms in perverting his younger
brother
to become the same way is merely proof of his degeneracy. While we might like
to
pretend that this incident was innocent childhood sex play, there exists more
than enough evidence to suggest that what was witnessed in the woods will be
but
one event among many such incidents. With a positive test result for the da
Vinci gene, it is apparent that Elijah Larson will continue on the same wicked
course. The risk of him seducing other young boys and anally raping them is
simply too high for society to endure. Drastic action must be taken to stop
him
and others of his kind."
Furthering the argument of the social gain to be attained by upholding the
Mississippi statute, Justice Yvonne Hall, a recent appointee to the bench by
President Denton, wrote:
"That the Larson boy can be sterilized without detriment to his general
health,
and that his welfare and that of society will be promoted by his emasculation
is
sufficient cause to uphold the decision of the Mississippi High Court. It is
better for all the world, if instead of waiting for him to perform some
depraved
and evil act on another boy, society can with a relatively simple medical
procedure both prevent him from acting on his perverted desires and from
continuing his kind. The principle that sustains our unanimous decision is the
loss that he will suffer is insignificant compared to the damage he can
inflict
on others. His loss is not cruel and unusual punishment as claimed by the
Plaintiff, but an effective and appropriate action to correct one of nature's
worst mistakes."
Shortly after the U.S. Supreme Court's decision was made public, Elijah Larson
was conveyed to the NICE Region Four Clinic in St. Louis, where he was
subjected
to a forty- minute bilateral orchiectomy procedure using a laser surgery. The
procedure, performed under local anesthetic, involves the removal of the
testicles and spermatic cords from the scrotum using incisions on the sides.
The
spermatic cord consists of the testicular artery, testicular vein, van
deferens,
and the cremaster muscle, effectively emptying the scrotum and facilitating
contraction. His mother, Ms. Candice Larson, who is divorced, was reportedly
very distressed, but she remained at her son's side throughout the brief
operation. While declining to comment on the decision, her attorney, Ted
Hassleman, released a brief press statement on her behalf. "While I do not
condone the actions of either Elijah or his brother Adam, the fact that both
boys have tested positive for the recessive form of the da Vinci gene must be
taken into account. It is my belief that they were engaging in what for them
was
entirely mutual sex play as a way of learning about their bodies. They hurt no
one but themselves. It remains to be seen whether either of them will grow up
to
become pedophiles. Any way you look at it, the castration of an otherwise
perfectly healthy eleven-year-old boy is an extreme punishment."
Chapter 8. Lane's Bookstop, Liberty Street, Champain. December 24th, 2004
"What's castration?"
Lane looked up suddenly. It was hardly a question he expected, although he was
vaguely aware that Daniele had been reading the newspaper for nearly ten
minutes. Lane had read the article about the U.S. Supreme Court's decision
during his lunch break. It had sickened him, yet it was only one incident
among
many. It would be grist for his chat with Cal Brewster the next time he came
into the store, so he had put the newspaper aside for that reason. He had not
expected Daniele to pick up the newspaper and read it, but he should not have
been surprised. Daniele read voraciously.
"Huh? What's what, Monsieur de Bookwormie?"
Daniele rolled his eyes although he enjoyed their name game. "Castration? I
know
it's some form of surgery because it says `surgical castration', but what is
it
exactly?"
"Um,..." Lane stalled, asking himself why he had not thrown the newspaper away
even though he knew the answer. "Well,... it's not particularly nice, Daniele.
Castration means,... it means sterilizing a guy,... It's done by cutting off
both of his balls," he explained.
"Oh,... It talked about `sterilizing' in the article, but I thought it meant
making something clean by killing the germs. Sort of like sanitizing."
"That's one meaning of the word," Lane clarified. "But sterilizing also means
preventing sperm from forming."
"Like what a guy needs in order to make babies?" Daniele asked offhandedly.
"So
they cut off his balls so he couldn't have babies," he said, thinking aloud.
"Yes, something like that. Actually, it's a bit more complicated than that,
but
you have the general idea."
"So it's kind of like neutering a dog, huh?"
"It's the same thing," Lane said. He put down the book he had been reading.
"Are
there any other words you don't understand?"
Daniele glanced at the article. He shrugged. "A few I suppose, but I can
mostly
figure out what it's about."
"Okay." Lane picked up his book again and turned the page.
"It's a bad thing, isn't it?"
"What's a bad thing? The court's decision,... or what happened to the boy?"
"I was thinking of what the boys did." Daniele glanced around to make sure
that
he would not be overhead. Still, he lowered his voice, just to be careful.
"Masturbating and then performing fellatio on his brother," he quoted. "That's
serious."
"You know what those words mean?" Lane asked earnestly.
Daniele giggled as any boy would who knew what `masturbation' and `fellatio'
meant. Lane suspected that there were very few boys of Daniele's age who would
know, but then Daniele was not an average ten year old boy.
"Sure. It means he played with his brother's thing." It was no secret that
most
boys masturbated occasionally, at least until they got married, although very
few boys ever referred to it as that. Then, Daniele's voice became even
quieter.
"And fellatio is a fancy word for,..."
He giggled conspiratorially. He looked at his forefinger, and still meeting
Lane's eyes, made an `o' with his lips and slowly inserted his finger into his
mouth.
"It means sucking your finger?" Lane joked, raising his voice in exaggerated
surprise.
Daniele giggled uncontrollably. "No! Don't be silly, Mr. Lane. You put it in
your mouth. It's when you suck someone's thing. All the boys at school make
jokes about cock-sucking. It's in the book too."
"I'm impressed," Lane remarked dryly. "I'm sure I had no idea when I was your
age. I must have been twenty before I knew about things like that."
He sat back, his legs crossed. It was fortunate that he could sit like that
without revealing his excitement. His penis was hardening rapidly. Of course,
merely being around Daniele was enough to do that, but it usually deflated
when
his lust ebbed. The problem was that it ebbed only after Daniele departed.
"Well, it's in THE book," Daniele repeated pointedly as if Lane did not
believe
him. Emphasizing `the' was his way of referring to the `Joy of Gay Sex.' There
was a few seconds of silence. "If they cut off his balls for doing stuff like
that, then it must be terrible."
Then, realizing that he sounded guilty, he resorted to studying the article
again, hoping that Lane would go back to his reading.
"Hm,... well, I suppose that depends on a person's perspective, Dani," Lane
replied honestly, although he would have been happy to let the matter drop.
"If
I remember correctly, they called it evil and depraved in the article. I for
one, don't think it is."
"Not even if boys do it?"
"Especially not then. I think their mother was absolutely correct. Kids learn
by
playing and they find out about the world by doing new things. Sex play is
really just that. It's how children find out about their bodies. They
shouldn't
be put in jail for doing what comes naturally."
Daniele nodded thoughtfully. "They put the older brother in jail for eight
years. That's a long time."
He glanced down at the article again. His hands felt sticky, almost clammy. He
still remembered what he had done with Grey. In fact, the memory was vivid. It
had always been with him, as if it was indelibly imprinted in his mind. It was
difficult to understand why a boy would be sentenced to eight years on a
prison-farm just for sucking another boy's penis. And they castrated him as
well? For doing that? He had done almost the same thing with Grey. He
swallowed
nervously, not realizing that he was beginning to sweat. He sat quietly,
emanating guilt.
"Is something wrong?"
Daniele shrugged and pretended to be nonchalant. He studied the next page of
the
newspaper intently although there was nothing of interest to read. Eight
years,
and they cut off his balls? They castrated him? That had to be what
orchiectomy
meant. They did that to a boy who was just a year older than he was? It seemed
unbelievable, but it was there in black and white. Obviously it would involve
an
operation, but it didn't take very long, not if all he had was a forty-minute
out- patient procedure at a clinic. Daniele breathed out in a rush, imagining
a
scalpel cutting through the delicate skin of his scrotum. There would be a
scar,
maybe even one on both sides. He wondered what it would be like not to have
balls.
"Dani?" Lane prompted.
"Huh?" He looked up, suddenly feeling so uncomfortable that he had to wriggle
in
his seat.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
He tried to shrug again. Instead, he nodded, guiltily avoiding Lane's eyes. He
felt pale- faced, as if the blood had drained away. He was exposed before
Lane's
unwavering introspective eyes. Why couldn't he leave him alone? Reading the
newspaper article was enough to leave him cold. He did not want to talk about
it, but he wanted to know more.
"Why do they call it da Vinci?" Daniele asked suddenly. He had heard about the
gene. Everyone knew it was what caused boys to become pedophiles.
"Because of Leonardo da Vinci."
"Did he have it?"
"I don't know. I don't think anyone knows for certain. However, he may well
have
had it," Lane said, thinking of what he had read about the exploits of the
most
creative renaissance man of all of them. There was at least one young boy who
shared his life, and probably several others who had not made it into the
annals
of history.
Daniele folded the page back so that he could study the article. "It says the
boy had the gene, but it was recessive. I thought that meant that it didn't
have
any effect. It's sort of dormant inside you. It's only a problem if it's
dominant."
"Maybe you should talk to Cal," Lane laughed.
He did not need to explain to Daniele that his close friend, Professor Calvin
Brewster, was a world-renowned bio-geneticist. Cal and Daniele had already met
each other when Daniele came into the bookstore on a Sunday instead of his
usual
weekday visits. It had been an unsettling experience if only because Cal was
also attracted to boys.
"Maybe I will," Daniele teased.
He had was aware of what Lane was thinking even when nothing was said. Lane
called it his `inner sense'. It was not as if he could read minds. No one
could
do that. Minds were private things. He merely picked up the same clues and
interpreted them in the same way. He was also very sensitive to moods. It was
because of that sensitivity he realized that both Mr. Lane and Professor
Brewster suddenly became very tense when he came into the bookstore. Somehow
he
knew that they had been talking about him. Equally, he was fully aware, that
he,
Daniele Webster, was the cause of their distraction. He enjoyed being able to
distract Mr. Lane with nothing more than a smile. He was not at all pleased
about the effect he had on Professor Brewster. It was unsettling that the man
would not stop looking at him. He was certain that Mr. Lane noticed it too,
and
even seemed to approve of the attention he was receiving. It made him feel
uncomfortable.
Lane smiled, enjoying the moment. "Okay, Dani-boy, I'll spare you his long
lecture. The da Vinci gene is what is called a trigger gene, meaning it's
carried on the male's 23rd chromosome and it somehow manages to trigger other
genes on both the X and Y chromosomes that would normally be dormant. You're
right in saying that genes are basically unimportant if they're recessive. The
important thing is when it's dominant. The d-V gene apparently has a range, so
it isn't just recessive or dominant. It might trigger only a few genes if it's
recessive, but if it's fully dominant, well,... Then, it triggers a large
amount
of otherwise unused DNA to come into play. That's when geniuses result."
"And pedophiles," Daniele interjected.
"Yes, and pedophiles too." Lane reflected on what to say next. "You know, I've
always thought that calling someone a pedophile is a bit like calling someone
a
nigger. It's not a nice word."
"But you see it all the time," Daniele said absently. "My teacher used the
word
in class when we were talking about how important it was for society to do
what
was in its best interests."
"It's true that you hear the word a lot. However, the way it's used it has a
certain unpleasant connotation." Lane gestured to the paper. "How do they talk
about the boy in there? What was his name?"
"Elijah Larson," Daniele replied without consulting the newspaper. "It's like
he's horrible. They used words like evil and depraved, and wicked too, because
he's a pedo. And there was someone else, his lawyer I think, who said he did a
bad thing. I know it's wrong, but..."
"What he did doesn't seem to be all that terrible to justify what happened to
him?" Lane finished.
Daniele nodded awkwardly. He kept thinking of what he had done with Grey. It
had
been fun at the time, and intensely satisfying, although it lasted only for a
very short while. He had never experienced a thrill like the one he had felt
when he touched Grey's penis for the first time. He remembered that despite
the
difference in their ages, it was almost the same size as his own. And it was
hard, so hard that it felt like it might snap off. Desire, hungry, insatiable
desire, gnawed at his belly. Sometimes all he could think of was Grey's
deliciously naked body pressing against him as they played their childish
games.
Only with the greatest difficulty did he manage to divert his thoughts again.
"Everyone says it's wrong," he said adamantly.
"Hm,... well, Dani, I think if people in important positions say things like
that often enough, everyone begins to believe it."
"You don't think it's wrong?"
Lane smiled. He had asked himself the same question a million times.
"Is it wrong to have sex?"
Daniele shrugged, avoiding answering the question until he had formulated his
thoughts.
"No, I guess not. You have to have sex to make babies."
Lane nodded seriously. "Sex isn't just about making babies. It's an essential
part of loving someone, Dani."
"It can be fun too," Daniele smirked with playground humor.
Lane grinned. "That's very true." He waited for the amusement to fade. "But
while it's an important part of love, love is a lot more than having sex."
He leaned forward. He wanted to touch Daniele's face, to lightly brush his
fingers across the boy's chaste lips, to touch his smooth cheek.
"Love is about caring for someone, and commitment and friendship as much as
it's
about passion. And it's just not for men and women."
"My teacher said that gays sometimes love each other."
"Yes they do," Lane said candidly. "Do you know what a pedophile is?" he asked
gently.
"Duh, who doesn't? It's a person, usually man who has sex with a kid," came
the
prompt school-board-approved sex-education answer. "If you have the da Vinci
gene then you have sex with boys. My teacher says that's the worst kind of
disease."
Lane almost laughed except that it was too sad to be funny. Deep down inside
he
was depressed. He longed to touch Daniele in places when a man was not
supposed
to touch a boy. Ever since they had met, he had sensed the boy's guilt, his
confusion, his interest in homosexuality. It was evident in the way he
lingered
over Von Gloeden's photographs of naked boys in the `History of Modern
Photography'. Daniele Webster was at an age when his sexual identity was being
formed. His interest was beginning to manifest itself. As he pondered what he
had observed over the last month, Lane concluded what should have been obvious
all along. Was it possible that the boy was not only attracted to his own sex,
but to boys? To young boys? He had met men like that online, men who preferred
boys of eight or nine, and sometimes younger.
"Dani,..." he began cautiously. "Let's think of it from a different point of
view. What if we called someone like that a boy lover?"
"A boy lover?" Daniele repeated.
Lane nodded slowly. He was taking an enormous risk, but then he had been
risking
everything from the very first time that the boy walked into his store and
begun
the process of discovering who and what he was.
"Yes. Would it have the same connotations as pedophile?"
He truly enjoyed talking to Daniele. He could use words and discuss thoughts
that he would have had to avoid with any other boy.
Daniele shook his head. "It wouldn't be the same. It's about love, then."
"Ah,... And would that be different?" Lane pressed.
"Uh huh. Of course. You're talking about loving boys so it's not just sex."
Daniele put the newspaper down. "But it would still be wrong, wouldn't it Mr.
Lane?"
"So it's wrong to love someone?" Lane asked pointedly. "If you loved them so
much that sex was really about making love."
"No, of course not...." Daniele considered his answer. "It's not just about
semantics is it?"
Lane smiled. He was proud of Daniele, not only for knowing the word, but
understanding the concept in the first place.
"A good question. What do you think, Daniele?" he posed.
There was a long silence. "If a man had sex with a boy and that was all there
was, then that would be wrong,... but you're saying what if they loved each
other when they had sex?" Daniele clarified nervously.
"Maybe like brothers," Lane suggested.
"Then it would be very different. It wouldn't be bad because they'd both want
to
do it to show how much they loved each other," Daniele ended. He flipped at
the
newspaper crossly. "But they cut his balls off because he had sex with his
brother."
Lane shrugged dispassionately although he was hardly impartial.
"Of course, most people think of boy-lovers as men, but boys can love boys
too,"
Lane said gently. He watched Daniele's reaction. He made the connection
swiftly.
"They did that to him,... even though,..." Daniele swallowed. "All he did was
to
show how much he loved his brother." His hands clenched, his fingernails
cutting
into his palms. He was very close to crying. "But even their mom said it was
mutual. That means they both wanted to do it."
"I think it's more than likely, Dani, particularly when both boys have the da
Vinci gene. They're genetically predisposed to it. It would be very difficult
for them not to experiment with each other."
Daniele pursed his lips thoughtfully. Absently, he scratched at his eyebrow as
he thought it through to its logical conclusion. `Boys can love boys, too.'
That
was what Mr. Lane had said. And the way he had said it, distinctly,
reassuringly,...it was almost as if Mr. Lane understood what he was thinking
and
was telling him it was okay. He needed to be accepted, to know that he wasn't
a
terrible person.
"Mr. Lane?"
"Yes, Wormster?"
Daniele smiled shyly, thinking spontaneously. The problem he labored with was
how to phrase what he wanted to ask.
"Uh,... um,... does that happen, ah, like very often?" Daniele stopped,
realizing that he was making very little sense. "I mean boys, um,... you
know,... um,... loving other boys?"
Lane tilted his book down to cover what had become a very pronounced erection
and stretched his legs. He said what needed to be said, what Daniele had
waited
all of his life to hear.
"It happens all the time. Boys grow up to be men, Daniele, so every boy-lover
was a boy at one time in his life. They had to start somewhere."
"Yeah, I guess so,.... You're saying that they start out loving boys and then
keep on loving them when they're men?" Daniele sucked on his bottom lip. "What
happens to the boys they love when they grow up?"
"It depends on the boy. Some boys go through a stage when they're attracted to
their own sex. They experiment, but they become interested in girls after a
while."
"And the other boys become gay when they grow up," Daniele stated logically.
"So
everything works out okay."
Lane pointed to the newspaper. His penis was so hard that it ached. The way
that
Daniele was sitting made his jeans bunch up at the crotch. Somewhere
underneath
the folds of faded blue denim was the thing that Lane wanted desperately to
touch. He wondered whether it also was erect, pointing upward into the cloth.
Probably not, he decided, but his hand still trembled as he imagined touching
Daniele's penis, stroking it into full erection, until it throbbed, until it
reached the pinnacle of human pleasure, until it gave him release from all the
problems of life. They could escape together, even though it was only for a
very
short time.
"Unfortunately not, my boy," Lane said in his best W.C. Fields imitation. "Our
society, in its great wisdom, has decided that it's evil and depraved for me
to
love you. We can be friends, but I can never,... touch you," he ended
awkwardly.
"That's so dumb," Daniele said hotly. "It should be up to me to decide if I
want
someone to touch me."
"It's more than just touching," Lane added.
Daniele rolled his eyes flippantly. "Yeah, I know. Adults say touch when they
really mean have sex. It would be wrong for you to make me do something I
didn't
want to do, but if I wanted to have sex, then that's my decision. It shouldn't
be against the law."
"I agree, but the problem is that the vast majority of people don't agree, and
they're in control."
He hesitated to say more. He sensed Daniele reaching out, struggling to come
to
terms with who and what he was. They listened to a siren in the street. It was
a
sound that always frightened him. It did not matter if the siren came from a
fire engine, an ambulance, or a police car. It was always coming for him.
"Daniele, I don't have to even touch you," he explained carefully. He handed
over the book he had been reading. "This is,... Well it's an anthology of
boy-love literature. It's actually illegal for me to read it, although all of
the stories are on the Internet. I guess most people would call it disgusting,
but in my opinion they're some of the best love stories ever written."
Daniele opened it, turned several pages of the thick, cheaply printed book,
and
scanned the table of contents. "The authors have funny names," he observed.
"Randu? Teglin? Weird!" He ran his finger down the list of titles. "What's
`Double Trouble' about?"
Lane laughed. "That one is a classic, my boy." He ended his W.C. Fields
impression abruptly. "It's about twin nine-year-old boys who have special
powers. It turns out that they have a boy-lover as a neighbor."
"Do they have sex?" Daniele asked with a gleeful smirk.
"Ah, actually,... well, yes they do. At first, it's about a man providing
friendship to two needy boys. Even though he's sexually attracted to them, he
doesn't do anything," Lane answered. "Eventually they go all the way."
"Both of them have sex with him?"
Lane nodded.
Daniele giggled. "Hence `double trouble'. Cute. Are the twins pedophiles too?
I
mean boy lovers."
Lane smiled. "No, I don't think so. There are some things in the story that
suggest they're both going through a stage where they need a man's
companionship. Their own father left them a couple of years earlier."
"Okay,... um, so what's,..." he scanned the list of stories. "'Why Not Me'
about?"
"It's sc-fi," Lane replied. "I usually don't like stories that are in the
future, but this story kept me awake at night. It's about a boy on a spaceship
who's,..."
He hesitated, wondering what the author would think if he saw Daniele, a boy
whose physical beauty was without equal. The point of the story had not been
lost on him, yet like most boy-lovers he continued to seek out boys who
fulfilled his vision of perfection. Daniele wasn't blond or blue-eyed, but he
was supremely beautiful.
"The boy's unattractive and physically handicapped so men don't desire him. He
knows why, of course, but there is nothing he can do about it. He still wants
to
be loved. Eventually the captain of the ship falls in love with him."
"That's good." Daniele grinned. "And then they have sex?"
"Of course."
"In the butt?"
"Um,... It's been a while since I read it, but yes, I'm sure they do. Making
love is a big part of being in love, Dani, and the last time I checked that
was
how men and boys did it."
Daniele blushed slightly. He licked his lips, thinking about it, about doing
that to a boy, a boy who was younger than himself. Could he really put his
penis
inside another boy's bottom? It was dirty there, or it could be sometimes. If
men could do that to each other, in only stood to reason that a boy could do
it
to another boy. A penis had to fit inside given the size of what came out.
"Can I read it?" He sounded eager, too eager. He tempered the request.
"Someday,
when you're done with it, maybe?"
Lane winked. "You'll have to read it here, I'm afraid. If your parents found
it,..."
"I'd be dead." Daniele smiled happily.
Mr. Lane agreed with a nod, giving way as he always did to Daniele's requests
when they were associated with a smile. Despite that, the boy's hands clutched
the book tightly, almost as if he was frightened of it being taken away.
"Well, like I said, it's illegal. Just about anything to do with boy-love is
illegal nowadays," Lane commiserated.
"Why? If it's really about love?"
Lane shrugged and tried to be objective. "Society considers it undesirable
that
men and boys love each other," he said simply. It was not enough to explain
the
future that Daniele faced. "There's always been a problem with kids having
sex,"
he explained. "At least in this country. I expect we can thank the Puritans
for
that." He leaned forward in his seat. "But in 2002 or thereabouts, it began to
get worse. It began with a furor over the Catholic Church protecting priests
who
had been sexually abusing boys. It started off as just a few men taking
advantage of boys, but it ended up with many more. Perhaps as many as a
thousand."
"They weren't boy-lovers?"
Lane's brow furrowed. "I'm sure some of them were, Dani. Most situations that
made the news involved the priest taking advantage of a boy who needed
affection. I expect a few priests even raped boys. Anyway, there was a number
of
abductions and murders after that. Most involved young girls, but then there
was
a serial killer down south who went after boys. That's when things began to
change. A lot of laws were passed and a lot of men were arrested, sometimes on
trumped up charges. It was a bit like the Spanish Inquisition at times."
He remembered a time when he was a professor, the youngest full professor at
the
university. The turn of the century was the golden age. He allowed himself an
hour a day to browse the Internet looking for boy-love sites. No longer than
that because it was addictive. He was very careful even before the witch hunts
began. It was like watching a plague spreading, until everything was infected
and no public place was safe. He still remembered the day when `Ghouldrool'
was
shut down and over seven hundred boy-lovers were arrested, most of them on
charges of `conspiring to abuse minors'. Freedom of speech had been put aside
when it came to boy-love. The boy-love movement, if that was what it could be
called, went deep underground.
"Most of it has gone now," Lane said. Daniele gave him a questioning look.
"There used to be a lot of Internet sites," he explained. "Places where
boy-lovers could meet online, where they could play games or share stories."
He had met Cal Brewster at such a place. Ever careful, his identity was
concealed by a firewall and half a dozen proxy servers. It was the same for
Brewster. Anonymity was essential to both of them. As the friendship
blossomed,
they increasingly shared personal information until the day came when they
both
reached the same conclusion. Not only did they live in the same city, but they
worked at the same university, in buildings that were barely a hundred yards
apart. They met for lunch and laughed as if they had been friends since
childhood. On the weekends they would cruise the malls or go to baseball games
together, always looking for the perfect `10'.
"What's so funny?" Daniele asked.
Lane looked up. He had been unaware that he was smiling. There had been very
few
`10's over the years. Always there was a flaw, buck-teeth, ears that were a
tad
too large, or too many freckles accounting for that 0.01 that prevented a boy
from being a perfect `10'. Yet, Daniele was without question a perfect `10'.
"Oh. I was just thinking about the old days."
"You said it's all gone?" Daniele reminded him.
"Most of it, at least publicly. There are still a few places left, but they're
very private and hard to get into."
"Oh."
Lane watched Daniele as he slowly turned the pages of `In Love With Boys:
Nifty
Stories in the Public Domain', scanning quickly. He paused a moment to read.
He
smiled slightly. He looked up nervously.
"How old is Wishus?"
"About your age, I think." Lane smiled, remembering.
"So it really is about a man and a boy," Daniele observed shyly.
"They truly love each other, Daniele," Lane offered. It was another of his
favorite stories, discernible by the condition of the pages. "'Three Weeks to
Heaven' is a wonderful story. It's by the same person who wrote the sc-fi
story."
"I think I'll read it first then." Daniele put the book down. "I guess I had
better go home soon." He stood up and stretched his legs, arched his lithe
back.
"It's nice."
"What's nice?"
Daniele smiled slightly and started towards the door. "Knowing I'm not alone,"
he said looking back over his shoulder.
"Hey!"
"Yeah?"
"Merry Christmas, Bookworm."
"Hey, ditto Mr. Lane." Daniele paused, his hand still on the door knob. He had
forgotten it was Christmas Eve. "Thanks," he said quietly. "Thanks for being
here for me."
* * * |
|
A N.I.C.E. Boy | TESTICLES, MINOR | ` A N.I.C.E. Boy, by Ganymede `
Introduction:
In 1927, a majority (with a single justice in dissent) of the U.S. Supreme
Court
decided that Carrie Buck should be sterilized. Both the plaintiff, Carrie
Buck,
and her mother Emma, had been committed to the Virginia Colony for Epileptics
and Feeble Minded. Both of them had been judged to be "feebleminded", a term
synonymous with promiscuous, primarily because they had borne children out of
wedlock. Interestingly, Carrie was a B student who had been raped by a
relative
of her foster parents.
In the decision, Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr., wrote:
"that Carrie Buck is the probable potential parent of socially inadequate
offspring, likewise afflicted, that she may be sexually sterilized without
detriment to her general health and that her welfare and that of society will
be
promoted by her sterilization.... It is better for all the world, if instead
of
waiting to execute degenerate offspring for crime, or to let them starve for
their imbecility, society can prevent those who are manifestly unfit from
continuing their kind. The principle that sustains compulsory vaccination is
broad enough to cover cutting the Fallopian tubes. Three generations of
imbeciles are enough." (Buck v. Bell, 1927).
Carrie Buck's single inadequate offspring, Vivian Dobbs, who had been judged
mentally unfit by the Court's expert witnesses, was 7 months old at the time.
She later received straight As in school.
Buck v. Bell has never been overruled! At one time or another, 33 U.S. states
had statutes which enabled 60,000 Americans to be involuntarily sterilized.
The
practice continued to the mid 1970s. As the philosopher George Santayana said,
"Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it."
Pedophilia Gene Discovered.
New York Times, May 17th 2003
Today, scientists at Princeton University's Center for Genetic Studies
announced
that they had located the primary gene causing a type of pedophilia.
Pedophilia
is defined by the American Psychiatric Association as an unnatural attraction
between men and children. This particular gene is responsible for some men's
unnatural attraction to young boys. According to Dr. Landers, senior
researcher
and holder of the distinguished Morton B. Earl Chair of Genetics at the
Center,
the gene is positioned in the upper third of the 23rd Y chromosome. Until the
recent discovery, the da Vinci gene as it is called, was generally believed to
play a major role in triggering a host of other genes on the 23rd chromosome
that are responsible for such things as advanced cognitive development and the
extraordinary levels of creativity to be found in a very small percentage of
males. There is some evidence that it generates superior physical
characteristics as well.
The da Vinci gene was named by Dr. Alphonse Coleman of Stanford University's
Human Genome Center, who discovered it earlier this year. The name was
selected
to honor the 15th Century genius, Leonardo da Vinci (1452-1519), who in
addition
to being the most important artist, sculpture, and scientist of the
Renaissance,
was also an inventor of the highest order. It is paradoxical that he was also
a
pedophile of great repute in Italy, although the gene's connection to
pedophilia
was unknown at the time it was named. At the age of 38, Leonardo "adopted" a
boy, described by him as "thieving, lying, and obstinate", but who was
according
to Leonardo's acquaintances, also beautiful and roguish. When they met, he was
ten years old. Named Salai for "Little Devil, he was da Vinci's inseparable
companion for some 26 years. As it happens, Leonardo was not alone in his love
of boys. Among a great many of the world's most talented men, Michelangelo, in
his late 60s was infatuated with the boy, Cecchino dei Bracci; William
Shakespeare dedicated many of his 154 love sonnets to a ten-year-old boy, the
Earl of Pembroke; and Tchaikovsky and Schubert are known to have indulged in
the
practice of pederasty, according to Dr. Landers.
It is believed that the gene, although very uncommon in the population, occurs
disproportionately in Caucasians and Asians, accounting for the prevalence of
deviant behavior in those races as well as statistical anomalies in
intelligence. Dr. Landers stated that although it is normally considered
recessive, the gene's role is somewhat different to other genes in that it
acts
to trigger other genes into dominance, some on the X chromosome provided by
the
mother but primarily elsewhere on the poorly understood 23rd Y chromosome.
When
recessive, it triggers very few if any other genes, but at least fifty and
sixty
boy babies are born every year in the U.S. with the gene fully dominant. These
boys could achieve da Vinci's stature if they had the right environment, Dr.
Landers observed. "You have to keep in mind the complexities of today's world.
Realistically, it isn't likely that a renaissance man like Leonardo could
occur
again under normal conditions, particularly given the much greater depth of
knowledge that is required in each field nowadays. Instead, you find great
minds
in individual disciplines, like mathematics, the sciences, the arts, and, of
course, in business. What we've observed is that the da Vinci gene creates a
special person who is very much in Leonardo's image but who tends to
specialize
in one or two fields," said Dr. Landers. "They show an inordinate ability to
be
both exceptionally creative and to bring forth what for the rest of us are
very
complex ideas."
Male sexual orientation was previously thought to be carried on the female's X
chromosome or caused by environmental factors, such as exposure to high levels
of testosterone while in the womb, resulting in homosexuality. However,
research
has shown that a type of sexual orientation that attracts men to young boys is
quite different and is apparently unrelated to homosexuality since it is
caused
by the male's Y chromosome. Dr. Landers refers to this attraction to young
boys
as da Vinci orientation to avoid the unpleasant associations of pedophilia. In
particular, the da Vinci gene interacts with the receptor gene on the X
chromosome to begin the process. When dominant, the gene initiates a chain
reaction on the Y chromosome that can involve hundreds of other genes of
various
functions causing da Vinci attributes. Even when it is recessive, the gene
causes males to show varying levels of attraction to young males, sometimes
only
as a nurturing tendency, or mild preference, but in other more extreme cases
as
pedophilia. What causes the gene to be dominant is unknown at this time.
The unusual role of the da Vinci gene was discovered during Dr. Landers' DNA
research using over 1,000 convicted sex offenders. Landers observed that the
gene was present in a few exceedingly intelligent males who were also
predetermined to pedophilia. "It is important to differentiate between them
and
those men who are inclined towards young boys because they were abused
themselves when they were young," said Landers. He indicated that because of
AIDS, the da Vinci gene is thought to be present in only one percent of males.
The gene may have been very common in males in ancient Greece and other
ancient
cultures, accounting for the very high incidence and general social acceptance
of pederasty in those societies. "Normally, it's a recessive gene that has
varying effects in the triggering process," according to Dr. Landers. "This
means that some 140,000 boys and men in the U.S. will have the da Vinci gene
in
their DNA and possess pederastic tendencies to varying degrees, although very
few of them will act on their attraction. Currently, about 3,000 babies are
born
with a recessive da Vinci gene every year, but it manifests its full effect in
very few of them. It will be a relatively simple matter to develop a genetic
test, enabling screening prior to conception, or to identify potential sex
offenders."
Chapter 1. Hudson Creek, Virginia. February 13th, 2004
Dustin Lane, US Congressman for Illinois' 13th District, arrived home in a bad
mood. Home was a third-floor apartment, what was euphemistically called a
townhouse in the prestigious Hudson Creek development in Virginia. In the
daytime the views of the woods and creek were magnificent, especially in Fall
when the leaves were brilliant shades of red, orange and yellow. He had lived
there for nearly a year and the setting was the reason why he had bought the
place. It was not because it was convenient. It was a long drive from the
Capitol and the traffic was horrendous unless he worked until late. And it
usually was very late when he returned home.
After taking out the gold-trimmed envelop from the inside pocket, he dropped
his
jacket and keys on the table next to the front door. He turned around to make
sure that the security chain and dead-bolt were in place, then ambled tiredly
into the living room. He had been thinking about what he would do for most of
the drive from the office, and for a moment, a very brief moment, he thought
about trying to resist. It was something he was ashamed of, the only thing in
his life that he could in all honesty say that he was not proud of.
Perhaps by watching some television, or, more properly reading some of the
reports that were in his briefcase he could get so sleepy that he would fall
asleep as soon as he got into bed. It was a way to escape the inevitable and
he
needed to catch up on his committee work, not lie awake for hours
masturbating.
Usually, the possibility of doing something else was put aside even as it
raised
its head as an alternative to his nightly ritual. Nine times out of ten, lust
won. Yet, that night, still holding the envelop, he started back toward the
front door, only to remember that his briefcase was lying where he had left
it.
It was on the back seat of his Cadillac STS. While most people maligned
American
automobiles, in Lane's opinion the criticism was undeserved for that car. It
had
startling performance which Lane seldom used. It had an engine that was equal
to
the best German engineering, which he definitely appreciated.
"Damn," he growled aloud.
He was used to talking to himself. If only the walls could hear, and answer
back, his loneliness would disappear. Things would be different. He could
share
his secret and never be found out.
It was different a few years earlier, before society decided in its infinite
wisdom that pedophilia had to be eliminated. Exactly how or why it happened
was
not really clear. Perhaps it was a cultural phenomenon, symbolic of the
troubled
times that followed the terrorist attack of 9-11, or a reaction to the freedom
that came with the explosion of the Internet. But more likely, was Lane's
hypothesis. Politically correct society had created a situation where the
masses
had no one else to despise. Pedophilia was decried everywhere, from the family
room to the halls of Congress as being evil.
There was no way he was going back outside to get the briefcase. It was too
late
and he was tired after a long and stressful day. Lust won by default. Instead,
he went into the kitchen. Like the rest of the townhouse, it was decorated in
high-tech modern. The counters were polished granite and the cabinet fronts
were
brushed stainless steel. So was the refrigerator, an extravagance that still
seemed ridiculous. He spent so little time at the townhouse, that there was
seldom more to eat than a few packets in the freezer. The refrigerator was
nothing more than an oversized, overly sophisticated wine-cooler. He opened
the
vast door, pulled out a half-finished bottle of cheap Australian chardonnay,
and
then went over to the sink to find a glass.
His next stop, after pouring himself a nearly full-to-the brim glass was his
study in the converted second bedroom. He did little more than pick up his
laptop computer, a difficult undertaking considering that one hand already
held
the bottle of wine and the envelop. He made it to the bedroom without stopping
again, or dropping anything. Computer, envelop, glass, and bottle ended up on
the night-stand while he undressed before a mirror that was the full width of
the king- sized bed. He was vaguely aware of himself as he undressed. He still
looked good, not with the sagging belly that the majority of Congressmen had.
He
was less aware of why he had bought the huge bed in the first place. For good
reason, he had never shared it with anyone.
Naked, Lane wandered into the bathroom. Just the idea of what he was going to
do
when he got into bed was enough. The wine, some pictures, a jar of Vaseline,
coming to the precipice again and again until nothing could hold back the
inevitable ejaculation. The thoughts alone, the fantasies he created in the
privacy of his mind were enough to make his penis hard, but they were dark
thoughts, thoughts that he had to keep buried in his mind. In the brighter
light
in the bathroom, he was conscious of it, standing almost vertical. He did not
touch it. That would have spoiled the magic of the moment, but he was more
attentive to its rigid need, the secret longing inside him that never went
away.
It was seven inches, a little longer than average, but not thick. He was not
what could be called well endowed, not like some men were. His penis was slim
and torpedo-like, a constant thickness along the length except for the flared
end which was so barbed that it looked as if it would be stuck inside. If he
ever managed to get it inside, he mused wryly. Teeth brushed, bladder emptied,
he returned to the bed.
For a few moments the sheets were refreshingly cool and he stretched out,
luxuriating. There was nothing quite the sleek feel of tightly woven cotton.
The only problem with his life was that he spent it alone. He sat up and
savored
a mouthful of wine, his eyes half-closed as he fantasized about what it would
be
like to have someone beside him. Blond and innocently blue-eyed, with smooth
pale skin; or darker, Mediterranean with sensuous brown eyes, or..... Lane
smiled and reached over to pick up the laptop.
Then, remembering the envelop, he opened the flap. It was from the Office of
the
President. Within, a formal invitation with a scrawled first name, `Holly',
for
Holly Denton, the recently elected first woman president. Lane laughed aloud
as
he read what he had been invited to. It was a `gathering to celebrate landmark
legislation'. The country's 'first meaningful health program'. The so-called,
'Healthy Nation Act.'
In principle, at least on the surface, it appeared well-intentioned. However,
lurking within the nearly three hundred pages of legislative documentation was
an agenda that made him cringe. He was never a person to cower, yet he shrank
back from accepting the invitation. The last thing he wanted to do was to
spend
a couple of hours in President Holly Denton's entourage. Hurriedly, he
scrawled
"NO" and "HAVE PRIOR ENGAGEMENT', leaving out the exclamation mark he wanted
to
use because there was no point in irritating the woman more than necessary,
assuming that her aides brought it to her attention. Without further thought,
he
placed the R.S.V.P. in the gold trimmed envelop that had been provided. Only
then did he have second thoughts, which was only to be expected for a junior
congressman. There was only one reason why he was being feted, but his vote
was
not for sale. He closed the flap, expecting it to self-seal, as was usually
the
case for expensive invitations.
"For God's sake," he complained, tired of what he perceived to be the
Administration's nickel and dime efforts to save money.
He licked the edge of the flap. He thought nothing of it at the time, or would
ever again, but on reaching the pointed center, his tongue stuck. It was an
unpleasant feeling until he pulled the flap away. Momentarily, his tongue
rubbed
against his lips until the dry sensation faded. Little did he know that
several
dozen cells had been transferred from his tongue to the envelop and his future
had been sealed even tighter than the envelop.
He picked up the laptop computer, and after making sure that phone wire was
correctly placed in the jack, positioned it on his lap. While he waited for it
to boot, and connect to his internet service provider, he sipped some more
wine.
Finally, he opened the drawer of the night-stand and took out a half-full
bottle
of Vaseline. According to the built-in computer clock, the time was 10.45 p.m.
Only one e-mail among the thirty of forty that awaited him was of importance.
He
answered Cal Brewster's e-mail quickly, although with the deliberation due to
a
close friend, mentioning that he had rejected the President's invitation. He
added `the time will be better spend cruising for boys.' He encrypted the
message before he sent it, vaguely realizing that he spent a great deal of
time
watching his back. It would be even worse after the vote on the President's
Healthy Nation Act.
With the otherwise unpleasant but necessary job of answering e-mail out of the
way, Lane switched to what he was really interested in. The waste of time had,
however, done little for his disposition, which was irritable to say the
least.
So much depended on him that it was unsettling. The newly elected government,
riding on the euphoria of success in both the House and Senate, as well as the
Presidency, had initiated legislation that was purportedly forward thinking,
but
in reality was Draconian. Increasingly, 2004 was becoming more like 1984.
With a few abrupt hits on the keyboard, he passed through the new story
listings
at the Nifty Archive, searching for something new that was worth reading.
There
was not a lot, nothing that he wanted to read. Nothing from Teglin, whoever he
was, but he could certainly tell a story that was worth reading. He was one of
the few authors who knew the difference between love and lust. The only
problem
was that if was not unusual for many weeks to pass between his episodic
contributions. Most nights, the absence of something worth the effort of
reading
was not unduly frustrating, but given the mood that Lane was in, it gave him
further cause to seek an alternative. A visit to the newsgroups was in order.
He
resisted for a while, for as long as he was able. However, it was a fight that
he could not hope to win.
He relented faster than ever, perhaps because he promised himself that he
would
not visit again for another week. Unlike the pictures that were to be
discovered
in the newsgroups, the stories were harmless. At least stories could be
rationalized not to cause harm to anyone, with the possible exception of the
reader. Pictures were different. Someone had to pose willingly, which was
disturbing in itself, or be photographed either without their knowledge or
against their will, which was just as disconcerting. Some of the pictures were
entirely artificial, which alleviated his inherent guilt somewhat. Not that it
mattered. It was still wrong. It was illegal, and far worse, for his sessions
tormented his soul after he was done. Sweaty, drained, in post-orgasmic bliss,
Lane always sank into the depths of misery. He had not asked to be like this.
Yet holding back that urge, urgent with lust for pre-pubertal boys, needing a
young male body for the satisfaction of his depraved desire, was as impossible
then as it had ever been for him.
There were over four hundred messages in the news-group and he rapidly
descended
through the list. Experience taught him which were worth the effort of
downloading. Most of them were rubbish, messages from the purveyors of
pornography operating under a thousand different names so they could not be
blocked. There were a few names that he recognized, four or five, with
multiple
postings, with filenames that were unfamiliar. He checked those first. By the
third or fourth image in the first series, his heart was pounding in his ears.
By then the model had removed his clothes. The hotel setting could have been
anywhere in central Europe or one of the old Soviet states, but almost any
poverty stricken country was likely.
Misha, if that was his real name, was a delightful high-resolution photo-
series
of a blond-headed boy with sky-blue eyes and a smile that looked as if he
enjoyed being naked. He had certainly taken his clothes off rapidly. Usually
it
took a dozen photographs before the boy revealed himself. This time, he was
naked and hard by number four.
If his hair had been longer, the boy was pretty enough to be a girl, Lane
thought. To his delight, the lad's genitals were barely big enough to
contradict
the observation. Even erect, it was smaller than Lane's little finger. Lane
went
from one image to the next, downloading the next while he was engrossed in
studying the last one. He savored the details. The boy had tiny nipples. A
small
navel, an outward button. No hair, of course. The boy was too young for that.
Uncircumcised, his favorite kind of `boy- dick', with a red-tipped foreskin
that
was long enough to completely cover the head even when the penis was fully
extended. It had a used appearance, and the very thought made Lane sigh aloud.
What would it be like? He licked his lips. Would it retract easily? Holding it
between his lips, pressing down, leaving it wet and slippery as he went. Would
the end pop through? The glans bulged slightly, just enough to reveal its
shape.
Like an acorn, probably smaller. He fancied he could taste it. It would be
sweet, like warmed honey.
Two images later he gave in to his hunger and picked up the container of
Vaseline. He coated his penis with a few well-placed up and down strokes, then
with his laptop balanced on his chest, began the nightly ritual. Sometimes, if
he was lucky, he could make it last an hour or more.
The next picture was of the boy retracting his reddened foreskin. He was right
handed, Lane observed, with dirty finger nails. Almost every boy had grimy
fingers. Poverty and ignorance went hand in hand, or was it normal that boys
with grime were considered sexy? By contrast, the sexual organs were clean and
fleshy pink. If a person did not know better, the boy might be considered pure
and innocent.
The boy's foreskin was tight and it bunched up behind the glans, making it
darken. Not purple or crimson, but a color that made his mind look for
something
similar. All he could think of was a cherry. It was shiny enough, but the
color
was not that intense. The slit was barely visible, at least until the
following
image when the boy's hand clenched around the shaft and pushed down.
Lane was fascinated. There was no other word to describe how intensely he
studied the images. Every time he looked at pictures like those, he wondered
and
worried about the young male star, not even in his teens, a child who had
probably received little if any compensation for his shameless performance
before the camera. Lane did not delude himself by pretending otherwise. It was
common knowledge that child pornography was rampant in the countries that had
once formed the Soviet Union. He took a deep breath, barely able to control
himself. It was a sequence of photographs designed to stimulate men who were
attracted to young boys. Everything about the boy shrieked 'sex', but it was a
parody, the shy face, coy eyes lifted up, all an act. There was a person
giving
direction, telling the boy what to do and how to do it. There was always a man
behind the camera, and more than likely, there was another one waiting in the
wings. When he appeared, the fun would start.
Lane did not have to wait long. The man appeared after three more images had
been saved on his hard drive. He was dressed only in a tee-shirt, obviously
ready for action. Misha was smiling, beaming with pretended delight as he
pushed
the stained shirt higher and lay down with his head against the man's broad
hair-trailed belly. Lane breathed deeply, filling his lungs, knowing what
would
follow. There was no question of it. The man's huge hair-covered penis was too
close to the boy's mouth for anything else to happen.
"Come on! For Christ's sake!" Lane said impatiently to a computer that was
supposed to be downloading at 100 kilobytes a second.
Then, the image Lane was hungering to see appeared in its uncensored glory.
Misha's mouth was wide open, obscenely wide, as if he was ready for a dentist
to
examine his teeth. His lips were stretched into thin lines, his pink tongue
barely licking the shaft just beneath the glans, his white teeth apart,
getting
ready. Hurriedly, Lane clicked on the next picture link and went back to the
image viewer. He breathed heavily, and stared. He stared hard, stroking his
engorged penis with a slow deliberate rhythm. That mouth, perfect in every
way.
The lips so kissable, the thing so indecent, so incredibly exciting that it
took
his breath way. There was a line of wetness along the man's penis where the
boy's tongue had already been. Nothing wasted in 1200 by 800 pixels. The slit
in
the man's penis, meatus or whatever it was called, was already disgorging its
slimy lubricant. There was a shiny globule at the end. Lane knew what the next
image would be.
He saved the picture file the instant that the download was completed.
Quickly,
he clicked to retrieve the next picture, then returned to quench his craving.
"God," he groaned.
He studied the picture with rapture, envious, his heart pounding from the
thrill
of it. The boy's mouth was closer, his tongue extended even further. The head
of
the man's penis was wet only where the tongue had touched, but in lifting
away,
it had stayed connected by a silvery thread of pre-seminal fluid. It hung
between them, a spidery curve from upper lip to tip of glans.
"Fuck!" Lane whispered.
His own penis was oozing just as much fluid as the man in the photograph and
he
paused to catch some of the slipperiness on his fingertip. He lifted it to his
mouth, imagining a boy doing the same thing. He tasted his excretion.
Strangely
bland, but not boring. It was not the taste of a boy but all man. Salty,
slimy,
not too bad. What would a boy think of it? It did not have an unpleasant
taste,
but for a young boy to put it in his mouth and suckle on it? Would he like it?
Would he gag, and then pretend to like it because that was what was expected
of
him? Fully extended, the man's penis appeared very similar to his own organ.
Long and slender, though certainly not thin. The man's glans was smaller, or
perhaps that was simply the angle of the camera.
Hurriedly, Lane returned to the browser. The next image had downloaded. His
actions had become automatic. Click and save, get the next one. Go back to the
image viewer while it downloaded. His heart was thumping. In number 15, the
boy
almost deep-throated the man's penis. There was only an inch or two of the
long
shaft to be seen. The rest had disappeared. There was a big rounded bulge in
the
boy's smooth unblemished cheek to indicate how far the man's penis reached
into
his mouth. There had been no gradual insertion, half-a-dozen photographs to
show
it disappearing inch by inch. Instead, the boy went down like a whore with his
mouth wide open. The boy's eyes skewed up to see the camera, as if looking for
recognition of his shameless feat. He looked proud of his accomplishment.
"Awesome," Lane panted hungrily. "Go for it boy! Go all the way down on it!
Take
that big cock!"
The next picture was similarly unexpected. Usually, the action stopped at
mutual
sucking. Not this time. The boy squatted over the man, his knees splayed wide
apart. His pale smooth buttocks were directly above the hairy groin. The man's
penis, very hard and slightly curved, stood vertical and ready to impale. It
was
covered in lubricant, not the greasy shine of Vaseline, but wet and slippery.
The boy's penis was still erect, but Lane knew from prior experience that it
would not last for long. Not from personal experience, because he had never
had
sex, at least not since he was a boy playing with his friends. He licked his
lips. He was as aroused as he had ever been. There was no question of what
would
be seen in the next image.
Lane loathed the word 'pedophile', but at that moment surely no other word
could
describe the torrent of emotions, the unseemly desires, the relentless
pounding
of his heart. Every breath was difficult, an exercise in itself. There was no
escaping the unavoidable truth of what he was. In public, he managed to keep
his
eyes averted from all but the most attractive boys. Still, he looked often
enough. He was cautious by nature, but he looked too often. Boys were,....
beautiful, some stunningly so, always enjoyable in their youthful innocence, a
delight to watch even for a momentary glimpse. He watched them in the shopping
mall or playing in the park. He feasted his eyes only when it was safe to do
so,
and then, he tried to imagine what it would be like to have a 'relationship',
a
'young friend', a boy who wanted to be loved. He preferred to think of himself
as boy lover, a pederast as the ancient Greek roots defined it, combining
'ped'
and 'rast', 'boy' and 'love'. Above everything else, Lane believed that he
could
still control his urges. He would not touch a boy if the opportunity presented
itself.
His hand trembled when he returned to the browser. For once, he delayed saving
the file until he had looked at it. Immediately, Lane observed that the man's
penis was not in very far, although he could not see the boy's anus to confirm
what he wanted to see. Of course, given the angle, the position, and the
solemn
expression of the young face, nothing else was possible. In all probability,
not
even an inch had penetrated, but enough of the man's penis was hidden by the
boy's buttocks that there was no question something interesting had happened.
He
rushed to save it, then hurried back to get the next one. He was addicted,
like
any drug fiend. However, unlike an addict, his need would bring no sympathy,
no
special recovery programs, just public humiliation and prison if he was
caught.
It was a compulsion. Lane was obsessed with boys, but only young boys, boys
whose bodies had yet to reach maturity. Nothing except boys interested him.
Certainly not teenagers or men, and definitely not women or girls. He was
single-minded. Even a passing glance at a boy was enough to arouse him.
Whatever
caused his relentless need for smooth hairless bodies and prepubescent penises
was beyond his comprehension, and he had thought about it often. He had been
born a boy lover. It was all that he had ever known. Lane was tormented,
caught
between the deepest motivation of all and a conscience that was awful in its
guilt. Lust won every time he tried to look away. He imagined what it felt
like.
He kept looking, thinking about how it would feel. In Lane's untested opinion,
it had to be the best feeling of all. He could imagine the boy's anus
squeezing
on his penis. The boy would cramp, tighten up, muffle his groan of ecstasy and
then try to relax, then push himself down just a little bit further. The
following pictures made it look very easy and anything but painful. They
showed
a steady descent, lowering inch by inch; an engorged veiny thickness pushing
inch by inch into the hairless, slender boy. It was, by any sense or
judgement,
impossible that such a huge penis could be contained within that narrow-hipped
pale body, but it happened nonetheless. All of it. Gone from sight. The boy's
face was contorted, eyes half-closed, lips pressed tight. Pain, or pleasure,
or
some miraculous combination of both, Lane imagined. It certainly was not
without
harm, not by any stretch of the imagination. To push something that big into
something that small had to have some sort of effect, didn't it?
Then, there were pictures that showed it coming out in stages, all the way out
eventually. It came out clean, slick, visibly untainted, almost as if it had
been washed clean. Lane was entranced by the boy's slight recognition of
relief.
His eyes had a look of surprise that delighted Lane. Perhaps the boy really
did
enjoy it? Still, it had to feel strange having something so large forced
inside
a tender young body. Lane was rubbing furiously, aching for release, hoping
there were enough pictures for the boy to achieve orgasm. Part of him, part
that
should have been ashamed, wanted the boy to have something of his own to
justify
what he was doing. Everything Lane had read, and he had a great deal over the
years, said that sexual climax could happen from anal stimulation. In some
stories, the boy needed to be masturbated, but it was also supposed to happen
even when the boy's penis was limp. He panted, unaware that he was sweating.
It was strange how he managed to retain control. Pumping frantically with one
hand, downloading picture after picture using two fingers of the other hand to
manipulate the keys.
There was no question when the man ejaculated. Even though there was no sign
of
it other than the boy's shameless knowing smirk. Lane observed a look of
accomplishment on the gleeful somewhat startled face that was
incontrovertible.
Lane could only imagine what it was like to do that, the utter happiness and
fulfillment that could only be discovered through ejaculation inside another
person, a boy. He thought about the sensation that the man was still feeling,
the boy's body clutching, the pulsing of a slippery rectum around his sex as
the
semen spurted out. And he tried to think about the feelings of the boy, his
anus
stretched so tight that it seemed impossible that any movement could occur let
alone enough to produce orgasm, and finally, the sudden heat flowing into his
rectum until he was full to overflowing. Lane jerked his penis, squeezing
frantically and abusing the sensitive head until it glowed with crimson heat,
barely able to hold back his imminent explosion, but equally unable to stem
the
need to expel his seed. However, he held back the flow long enough to see the
final picture in the series.
The boy had lifted up far enough from his squatting position to reveal half of
the man's slick, slime-covered penis, and the reproductive drool that had
anointed him. Semen oozed out from around the shaft. Lots of it. More than
seemed humanly possibly, like the white of an egg dribbling in a viscous
trickle
from his dilated hole. There was only one picture left in the series.
Lane closed his eyes, held onto his computer and pushed it down to his thighs,
far enough away that he would not get it wet. His throbbing sex swelled in his
hand. He groaned loudly, shuddering in the final throes, gasping in ecstasy.
He
felt it rising and his buttocks lifted off the bed as he arched upward. Then,
in
one agonizing moment, he saw the semen, his, or that of some other anonymous
man
who was similarly reclining on his back with a little boy perched on top him.
Lane's semen splattered across his belly, forming white creamy clumps where
the
spurts fell. The next picture appeared in the browser. It showed even more of
the man's semen dribbling out of the boy's distended red-raw anus. The hole
gaped open like a mouth, not unnaturally so but as if it was supposed to be
that
way. It was surely among the most beautiful and horrifying sights that Lane
had
ever seen. He slumped back down, aware that his heart was pounding, his naked
body twitching and jerking spasmodically.
As soon as he had recovered his breath, Lane used the corner of the sheet to
wipe away the fluid that had spewed over him. He pulled the computer up from
where it had slid onto the bed covers, saving the last file before he
hurriedly
detached the phone line. He lay still, his heart still beating quickly,
thinking
about the final image and regretting that he was unable to stop himself. It
was
always that way afterwards, guiltily resenting his lack of restraint and
ashamed
by what he had done, while at the same time he wished that it had lasted
longer.
That was the terrible thing. The desire never went away. No matter how much he
promised himself or swore oaths to resist the need to look at the images. He
always returned to the pictures and stories. He had to, in order to fulfill a
need that verged on desperation if he abstained for more than a day or two.
Then, the beast within him demanded to be fed again.
Still, in quiet moments of reflection, Lane wished that he was normal. Married
with two kids of his own, a house in the suburbs. He would want sons, of
course.
Life would be easier if he did not have to worry about getting caught. He
stopped there, as soon as the thought entered his head. He would never do such
a
thing, not with his own flesh and blood, but that did not stop him, from
thinking about it, from worrying how much self restraint he possessed. He
often
wondered if he would be able to control himself if the situation arose where a
boy was,.... available. So much was at stake. It seemed as if a day never went
by without some story in the media about pedophilia. No matter how hard the
authorities tried to eradicate it, pedophilia continued to exist.
Increasingly,
he heard it referred to as a plague upon society. Merely arresting a few
thousand child pornographers and exposing hundreds of pedophile-priests did
little to stem the tide of men who had finally achieved a way to escape the
choking fear of expressing who and what they were. Now, instead of seeking out
boys through role-model positions, frightened men like Congressman Lane
committed furtive deeds in the privacy of their homes and computers and waited
for the police to hammer on their doors. Worse still, was the punishment that
was meted out to those who succumbed to satisfying their needs, even if no one
else was involved. The legislation at the federal level had originally
required
two violent assaults on children before life imprisonment was mandated.
Somehow
along the way, `violent' was interpreted as any act that affected someone
else's
rights. Nowadays, simply looking at a photograph that showed a boy's bare
skin,
either real or digitally created; communicating with another person in a
pseudo-anonymous chat about underage children, or reading a sexually themed
story about boys was enough to qualify. It took two such incidents for a man
to
spend the rest of his life in prison. That was the law, and it was one of the
things that had motivated Lane to enter politics.
* * * |
|
Strenge Eltern original Teil 2 | GAY, PENECTOMY, NULLIFICATION, MINOR, Amputation | Teil 2 der Geschichte vom originalen Autor der "strengen Eltern"Dem 14jährige Julian fehlt bereits ein Daumen, weil er ihn "missbraucht" hatte. Trotzdem macht er sich nun über ein ganz anderes Körperteil her... | Seine Mutter wunderte sich schon, warum Julian so oft seinen Schlafanzug
wechselte. Normalerweise schlief er eine ganze Woche darin. Aber seit kurzem
hatte er fast jeden dritten Tag einen neuen an.
Das heißt, wundern tat sie sich eigentlich nicht. Sie hatte eher so etwas wie
eine Vorahnung. Ihr Sohn war mitten in der Pubertät und gerade sein
Geschlechtsteil würde ihm doch sicherlich mehr zum Spielen anregen, als
vorher. Den endgültigen Beweis jedoch würde sein Schlafanzug und seine
Bettdecke geben.
Als Julian in der Schule war, ging seine Mutter in sein Zimmer. Sie schlug die
Bettdecke zurück und untersuchte akribisch den Stoff auf Flecken. Sie brauchte
nicht lange zu suchen, bis sie fündig wurde. Deutliche Zeichen von Wichsspuren
fanden sich nicht nur auf der Decke. Auch und vor allem auf Julians
Schlafanzughose gesellte sich ein Fleck zum nächsten.
Sie lag also richtig mit ihrer Vermutung. Julian onanierte. Und das nicht zu
knapp. Er wird seinen kleinen Pimmel genauso ausgiebig zweckentfremden wie
damals seinen rechten Daumen, dem sie ihm ja genau deswegen schon vor 6 Jahren
abgeschnitten hatten. Und dann war Ruhe mit der Daumenlutscherei.
Da kam ihr eine Idee. Wenn ihr Sohn keinen Zipfel mehr hat, kann er auch nicht
mehr onanieren. Aber dann müßten seinen Hoden auch weggemacht werden, sonst
ist der Drang zum wichsen immer noch da. Aber das wäre ja kein Problem. Wenn
schon damals der kleine Kinderdaumen problemlos abgetrennt wurde, sind die
Weichteile kein wirkliches Hindernis.
Sie verlies das Kinderzimmer und besprach das alles am folgenden Abend mit
ihrem Mann. Der war zuerst verärgert über das Verhalten von Julian und stimmte
dann nach dem Vortrag seiner Frau über die Lösung des Problems der Amputation
sofort zu.
Julians Penis und Hoden werden also abgeschnitten. Und das so schnell wie
möglich.
Wir müssen ihn in flagranti erwischen, sagte sie. Aber das würde kein Problem
sein. Schließlich wichste ihr Sohn, so wie es aussah mehrmals täglich.
Warnungen würde sie keine aussprechen. Sie hatten das lange Gerede schon
damals satt, als Julian noch am Daumen lutschte. Taten sollten folgen. Julian
war schließlich selbst schuld daran.
Am darauf folgenden Tag lag Julian am frühen Nachmittag in seinem Bett und
spielte mit seinem Pimmel. Wie immer ließ er den kurzen Daumenstumpf seiner
rechten Hand über die bereits nass glänzende Eichel gleiten, während die
Finger seiner linken Hand den Hodensack massierten. Er stöhnte auf. Versuchte
leise zu sein, aber es kam ihn ein zu lautes "Ahhh" über seine Lippen, als ein
warmer Strahl aus seinem Zipfel schoss. Und während er noch die Sahne von
seinem Daumenstummel genüßlich ableckte, standen auf einmal seine Eltern im
Zimmer.
Julian erschrak. Nahm sofort den Fingerstumpf aus dem Mund.
"Ach Julian" sagte seine Mutter fast traurig. "Du lernst es einfach nie, was?
Es gibt nun mal Körperteile, die nicht misbraucht werden dürfen."
"Wie meinst du das?" fragte er vorsichtig.
"Weißt du noch, warum wir dir damals deinen Daumen abgeschnitten haben?"
fragte sein Vater.
Der Junge nickte leicht. "Weil ich immer daran gelutscht habe."
"Richtig. Weil du was mit ihm gemacht hast, wozu er nicht da ist. Aber du
scheinst leider nichts dazu gelernt zu haben. Jetzt missbrauchst du deinen
Pimmel und hast trotz fehlendem Daumen wieder die Hand am Mund. Und jetzt
wirst du die Konsequenzen tragen müssen."
Julian wurde blass. "Ihr wollt mir... meinen Pimmel...?
"Abschneiden. Ja, das tun wir. Und zwar jetzt."
"Aber ihr könnt doch nicht..."
"Zieh dich aus. Sofort!" Julian gehorchte. Er stand auf und zog sich
splitternackt aus. Sein halbsteifer Penis hatte noch deutliche Spermaspuren am
Schaft.
Seine Mutter nahm ihn bei der daumenlosen Hand und zog ihn ins Badzimmer. Der
Junge fing an zu weinen und genauso wie damals, als sein Nuckeldaumen unter
den scharfen Schneiden der Geflügelschere fiel bettelte und flehte er, ihn
doch unversehrt zu lassen. Nie wieder würde er seinen Zipfel anfassen, ausser
zum Pinkeln und waschen. Nie wieder würde er sich einen runterholen, wenn sie
nicht abschneiden würden.
Doch sein Gejammer stieß nur auf taube Ohren. Er stand mit Tränen im Gesicht
in der Mitte das Bades und sah schon die altbekannte Geflügelschere in der
Hand seiner Mutter. Doch sein Vater hielt ein.
"Warte" sagte er zu seiner Mutter. "Mit dem Ding kommst du hier nicht weit."
"Warum denn?" wollte sie wissen. "Hat doch bei seinem Daumen auch wunderbar
geklappt."
"Ja, beim Daumen. Aber das ist ein Penis. Der ist viel zu weich für sowas.
Aber keine Sorge. Wir nehmen das da."
Dann öffnete der Vater die Dusche und holte ein nagelneue, riesige
Heckenschere heraus. Sie mußte gut einen Meter lang sein und so scharf, das
man sich damit rasieren konnte.
"Hab ich heute früh extra noch gekauft. Und gleich messerscharf schleifen
lassen. Damit ist sein Zipfel ruckzuck ab. Willst du schneiden?"
"Nein, nein" sagte sie. Ich war schon beim Daumen dran. Jetzt darfst du mal."
Er grinste und nickte.
"Keine Sorge, Junge, das tut nur ganz kurz weh."
Julian war starr vor Angst. Unfähig sich zu bewegen musste er mit ansehen, wie
seine Mutter seinen Pimmel an der Vorhaut in die Hand nahm und ihn lang zog.
Sein Vater führte die riesige Schere genau an die Stelle, an der sein Schwanz
aus dem Körper kam. Doch was war das? Julians Penis wurde auf einmal steif und
steifer. Trotz der Situation tat die Berührung einer fremden Hand sein
Übriges. Hart wie ein Brett stand er nun aufrecht und entblöste die kleine
Eichel.
"Na um so besser." freute sich seine Mutter. Dann brauche ich ihn nicht zu
halten.
"Und ich kann besser schneiden." fügte der Vater hinzu und schon berührten die
Schneiden der Schere die Penishaut. Julian weinte wieder. Sah traurig auf
seinen Zipfel, der völlig steif in der Monsterschere steckte.
"Strafe muss sein, Julian. Du wirst uns noch dankbar sein."
Und nach diesen Worten schnitt der Vater dem Jungen den Pimmel ab. Wie durch
Butter glitten die Schneiden der Schere durch den Penis und trennten ihn
komplett vom Körper des Jugendlichen. Julian schrie auf vor Schmerz, fiel auf
die Knie und verlor das Bewusstsein. Seine Eltern drehten ihn auf den Rücken.
"Die Hoden müssen auch noch ab." sagte sie und der Vater setzte die Schere
erneut an. Genauso leicht wie der Zipfel zuvor fiel auch der Hodensack vom
Körper. Die Mutter legte ein blutstillende Kompresse auf die Wunden und das
Bluten versiegte. Dann wischte sie den völlig leeren Intimbereich ihres Sohnes
sauber. Beide betrachteten ihr Werk mit vollster Zufriedenheit. Großeltern
wollten sie nie werden, deswegen war es ihnen auch egal, ob Julian später
Kinder wollte. Für sie zählte nur das eine. Einen wohlerzogenen Jungen. Und
wenn das nur mit Abschneiden bestimmer Körperteile zu bewerkstelligen war,
dann mußte es halt so sein.
"Jetzt ist Ruhe." sagte sie und grinste. Ihr Mann überlegte. "Vielleicht
sollten wir..."
"Sollten wir was?"
"Gib mir mal die Gefügelschere." Sie gab sie ihm.
"Was hast du vor?" fragte sie.
"Hast du gesehen, das Julian die Wichse vom seinem Daumenstumpf gelutscht
hat?"
"Ja. Aber der ist doch schon so kurz. Da kannst du nichts mehr abschneiden."
"Den rechten nicht. Aber seinen linken."
"Wieso? Am linken Daumen hat Julian nie gelutscht."
"Vorher nicht. Aber wenn er wieder nichts daraus lernt, weiter seine
Körperteil missbrauchen will, wird er früher oder später anfangen, am linken
Daumen zu lutschen. So, wie er es mit dem rechten gemacht hat."
Er nahm die schlaffe, linke Hand seines Sohnes und setzte die Schere am Daumen
an.
"Ich weiß nicht." sagte sie. Wir sollten erstmal abwarten was passiert. Wir
haben ihm jetzt schon dreimal was abgeschnitten. Jetzt müßte er es doch
kapieren."
"Okay, du hast recht." Er entfernte die Schere wieder.
"Bring ihn ins Bett. Er wird sich wundern, wenn er aufwacht."
Vorsichtig hob seine Mutter ihren Sohn auf legte ihn auf sein Bett. Sie
streichelte die Stelle, an der vorher noch seine Pimmel war, grinste kurz und
verließ sein Zimmer.
Der Vater säuberte inzwischen das Bad. Er hob Julians Hodensack auf, prüfte
den Inhalt. Die Eier waren noch klein, dachte er. Sie hätten noch wachsen
können. Tja... Pech gehabt. Er legte den Sack samt Hoden in ein Glas mit
Alkohol. Dann nahm er den schlaff gewordenen Penis vom Boden und betrachtete
ihn genau. Es war ein hübscher Pimmel, das muss man wirklich sagen. Ganz der
Vater. Und auch der Schwanz kam in Alkohol. Beide Gläser stellte er nun in den
Schrank. Genau neben dem anderen Glas in dem ein kleiner, verschrumpelter
Kinderdaumen schwomm.
Julian schlief nicht lange. Eine halbe Stunde vielleicht. Und kaum erwachte,
rollten sofort Tränen über seine Wangen. Langsam und ohne hinzusehen glitt
seine daumenlose Hand in seinen Intimbereich. Er zuckte zusammen. Da war
nichts mehr. Kein Penis. Kein Sack. Nur leicht verkrustete Wunden. Sie hatten
ihm tatsächlich alles abgeschnitten. Genauso, wie sie es damals mit seinem
Daumen gemacht hatten. Julian weinte. Nie wieder würde er seinen Penis, seine
Hoden spüren. Nie wieder wichsen können. Nie wieder wird er das
unbeschreibliche Gefühl eines Orgasmusses haben. Und nie wieder wird er sich
ablenken und auch trösten können. Entspannung erfahren nur mit Hilfe seinen
eigenen Körpers. Er stand langsam auf und ging auf wackligen Beinen zu seinem
großen Spiegel. Dort sah er einen nackten Jungen. Der Junge hatte keinen
Pimmel. Und keinen Sack. Alles dort war leer. Verschwunden. Abgeschnitten
durch die Hand seiner eigenen Eltern.
So vergingen vier Wochen. Seine Wunden waren komplett verheilt. Obwohl er
nichts mehr besaß, was einen Jungen ausmachte und eigentlich völlig ruhig und
ausgeglichen sein mußte, kam er nicht zu Ruhe. Er brauchte etwas, mit dem er
sich trösten konnte. In eine andere Welt abdriften und seiner Phantasie freien
lauf zu lassen. Sein Schwanz war weg. Seine Hoden ebenfalls. Auch ein damals
bester Freund, sein rechter Daumen war schon lange Geschichte. Von ihm blieb,
im Gegensatz zu seinem Pimmel oder Sack, nur noch ein kurzer Stummel, der aber
zum Befriedigen nicht ausreichte. Aber dann tat er das für ihn logisch
richtige.
Er wartete auf eine Sonntag, wo er ganz sicher war, den ganzen Nachmittag
alleine zu sein. Er duschte sich, kürzte die Fingernägel auf ein Minimum, zog
sich splitternackt aus und legte sich auf sein Bett. Seine daumenlose, rechte
Hand wunderte von der Brust über den Bauch parkte wunderbar weich auf seinem
leeren, völlig glatten Intimbereich. Genau dort, wo früher sein Penis war, lag
der kurze Stummel seines Daumens, während er den Daumen der linken Hand in den
Mund steckte und zu lutschen begann. Genau wie früher.
Es dauerte seine Zeit, bis sich Julian an das Lutschen des Daumens gewöhnt
hatte, aber je mehr das er es tat, umso angenehmer wurde es. Das Reiben des
Daumenstumpfes der rechten zwischen seinen Beinen wurde weniger und weniger
und schließlich genügte es ihm, nur am Daumen zu nuckeln und sich so zu
befriedigen. Angst, ihn genauso zu verlieren hatte er keine. Er passte auf wie
ein Spitz und lutschte nur dann, wenn er wirklich sicher vor irgendwelchen
Scheren war. Doch seine Eltern waren nicht dumm und merkten eines Tages die
leicht schrumplige Haut des Daumens. Und auch diesmal machten sie kurzen
Prozess mit Julian. Sie schnitten ihm ohne Vorwarnung und wieder mit der
Geflügelschere seinen letzten verbliebenen Daumen von der Hand. Sie nahmen in
Kauf, das Julian völlig ohne Daumen nun auf fremde Hilfe angewiesen sein wird.
Es war ihnen wichtiger, das ihr Sohn nicht sich selbst so misshandelt.
Als Julian 15 wurde, verlor er auch noch seine beiden großen Zehen. Obwohl er
sich so sicher war, das niemand merken würde, das er seinen rechten großen Zeh
lutschte, weil er ja meist Socken und Schuhe trug, schnitten ihm seine Eltern
auf die gleiche Weise die große Zehe ab, wie sie es schon mit seinen beiden
Daumen gemacht hatten. Und diesmal stimmte seine Mutter seinem Vater zu, die
andere große Zehe vorsorglich mit abzuschneiden.
Und nun war der Punkt angelangt, wo seine Eltern endlich siegten. Julian stand
wieder vor seinem großen Spiegel. Er war nackt. Die Arme hingen schlaff
herunter. Nur die Hände zeigten mit der Innenfläche nach vorne und spreizten
die verbliebenen acht Finger.
Julian sah an seinem verstümmelten Körper herunter. An seinen Händen fehlten
die Daumen. An seine beiden Füßen die großen Zehen. Und zwischen seinen Beinen
war weder Pimmel noch Hodensack.
Seine Eltern hatten ihm alles abgeschnitten, was ihm Lust und Freude bereitet
hatte. Alles das, was ihm gefiehl, war ab. Die verbliebenden Finger eigneten
sich aus Bequemlichkeit nicht zum lutschen. Und die restlichen Zehen war
einfach zu klein. So war nun nichts mehr da, das Julian "missbrauchen" könnte.
Seine Eltern waren zufrieden. Die abgeschnittenen Körperteile ihres Sohnes
waren wohl konserviert worden und in Acryl gegossen. So sahen sie aus, wie
frisch abgetrennt. Und manchmal darf Julian sie sehen. Wenn er brav war. Und
seine Finger und Zehen keine Spuren von "Missbrauch" aufwiesen.
Ende
* * * |
Can You Keep Your Clit | WARNING, Female Circumcision | A secret clubs plays a game with high stakes. Please email me an tell me what you think. | It was incredible how many had volunteered. There were thirty names in the
hat. Thirty college aged women had just risked that most sensitive part of
their body, just for the thrill of it. It was not as if they didn’t know what
they were getting into; these parties were held every few months and you had
to have attended at least twice prior to throwing your name in the hat. Thirty
was the most they had ever had.
It was 7:00, time for the fun to begin. Brian, the emcee for this night stood
on the coffee table and began to explain the rules. Though many knew this
speech by heart, it was worth repeating for the sake of the new comers.
“Hello I’m Brian, your host tonight, and I would like to welcome you to the
semi regular meeting of the College Cutting Club. At this point I would like
you to look around and make sure everyone who is here is part of the club or a
guest of someone who is.”
Everyone did. This was serious business. If an outsider got in everyone could
be in an enormous amount of trouble. There were no intruders and only three
new guests.
“Great” Brian continued, “I’m pleased to inform you that tonight we have
Thirty names in the hat, more than ever before.”
Cheering and applause filled the room.
“So, without further delay here are the rules. I will draw five names out from
this hat.” He held up the top hat the original club member had bought at a
costume store some seven years earlier.
“To ensure that everything is fair and transparent it will dump the remaining
names out of the hat and list them off. If someone is not in there who should
have been or someone is their who shouldn't, we’ll start over. Then I will ask
the five girls whose names I’ve drawn if they wish to back out, which they can
do at this point with no penalty. If all the girls still wish to participate,
then we shall begin. If one pulls out, we will redraw until we find a
replacement. Once we have five girls they shall all be asked to strip naked
and take their place on the stage.”
Brian pointed to ‘the stage’, which was no more than one end of the large room
with five overstuffed chairs lined up in a row.
“The contestants will then take a seat and introduce themselves. Name, Age,
Major(if you attend college), number of meetings you have attended, and why
you are here. Then the contestants will be asked to perform a series of tasks.
The tasks for tonight were in the invitation, but for the sake of formality I
shall repeat them now.”
“One: All five contestants will masturbate for exactly ten minutes. After this
is over, the audience shall vote on who looked and sounded sexiest. The vote
shall be conducted by paper ballots. As this task begins I will ask all of you
to take on sheet of paper. When the contestants are finished, choose who was
the best, write it down, fold the paper and hand it to either Michael, Ashton
or Penny. They will read the votes out loud while I mark on a chalk board in
the corner. The contestant with the most votes will join the audience, but
will remain naked for the rest of the evening.”
“Two: The winning girl from the last task shall pick an audience member to
participate in the second task. The audience member will have free reign to
examine the genitalia of the four remaining contestants. The audience member
will then choose his/her favorite, and this contestant shall join the
audience, but will remain naked for the rest of the evening” “Three: The
contestant who won task two shall choose three male members of the audience.
The audiences members will drop their pants, proceed to the front of the room,
and masturbate themselves until erect. The three remaining contestant will
then fellate these men. The first one to get her man to orgasm shall be
declared the winner, and shall join the audience, but will remain naked for
the rest of the evening.”
“Four: I shall take two identical pieces of paper and write ‘safe’ on one and
‘cut’ on the other. I will fold these and place them in the hat. The remaining
contestants shall draw one piece each from the hat. The one who drew the
‘safe’ piece shall join the audience, but will remain naked for the rest of
the evening.”
“The girl with the cut piece is tonight’s victim. As compensation she shall
receive oral sex from our grand master of cunnilingus, who is currently Bob.
She shall receive oral sex to orgasm. From there she will proceed to the
sterile room, while the audience proceeds to the viewing area.”
“Our surgeon tonight is Dr. James X, a friend of the club for three years now.
Doctor James X. is a fully certified surgeon, and the operation will be done
in the safest way possible. Using a modern clamp, the clitoris of the final
contestant shall be removed with very little blood lose. As per club rule,
however, no anesthetic shall be used.”
“Following the operation, as well as during it, member are encourage to
masturbate or engage in other sexual activities, however do remember there is
a zero tolerance for rape.”
“Also, a word about backing out. If you are chosen to have your clitoris
removed and wish to back out anytime before the fall of the knife, you are
welcome to, but do remember that doing this will mean expulsion from the club
permanently. Backing out before the contest begins is done without penalty, so
please consider carefully. And now we begin.”
Amid much applause, Simona handed Brian the hat. As the crowd made a fake drum
role with their hands, Brian reached in and pulled out a name.
“Erin!”
A short girl with dark brown hair delicate blue eyes bounded out of the crowd
towards the stage.
“I accept!” She was enthusiastic but could not hide her sense of fear. Brian
reached in again.
“Lindsey S.”
And even shorter girl, perhaps only five-two, with long, strawberry blonde
hair came to the stage.”
“I accept.” Chimed in her nasally voice. The crowd resumed cheering as Brian
chose another name.”
“Caroline.”
A tall thin girl whose blonde hair curled lightly as it cascaded down her back
join the growing contestant group.
“I accept.” Brian once again searched the hat for a name.
“Amber.”
A slightly pudgy girl with jet black hair as smooth as ice and a charming
smile was the next to separate herself from the crowd.
“I accept.” Brian drew the final name.
“Beth.”
A very tall, skinny girl with her hair pulled back in a bun completed the
contestant panel.
“I accept.”
“Good we have a full complement. Now for the accuracy check.”
Brian stepped down off the table and dumped the contents of the hat where he
had formerly been standing. He read each name aloud, and ascertained that the
process had been fair.
“Good, then we can begin. Ladies, strip.”
They did so at varying paces. Erin was the quickest, peeling of her fitted tee
and tight jeans with easy, and quickly removing her pair of red thong panties
and matching bra. Some of the girls wore boring underwear, like Beth, whose
plain white panties were of the everyday kind. Amber’s had a floral pattern
but were of an unflattering cut. Lindsey had a very sexy pink thong, which she
made a show of taking off. Perhaps most titillating was Caroline, whose low
rise jeans had rubbed right against her skin with no layer between then.
Finally, they were all naked.
“Thank you,” said Brian, “No if you wouldn’t mind taking a seat, and please
spread your legs so we can get a good look. That’s right, now introduce
yourselves, starting with... you.” Brian had pointed at Erin, who was in the
seat farthest left.”
“Hi, I’m Erin, I’m twenty years old, and I’m a Film major. This is my fifth
meeting, and I’m here because nothing has ever given me such a big thrill in
my life.” Erin had a lovely body. Her skin was not quite porcelain white, but
it was very gentle shade. Her breasts were small, somewhere between an A and a
B, but looked gorgeous on her frame. Her totally unshaved bush lead to a pussy
with pouting lips, obviously already engorged from tonight’s excitement.
“Next.” Brian said.
“Well, I’m Lindsey, I’m twenty one, and I’m a mass comm major. This is my
seventh time here, and I’m here because danger is my biggest turn on.” Lindsey
was short and a little stout, but in no way fat. Her breast looked very large
on her little frame, and were capped with huge nipples. Her mons was
completely shaven and her pussy very small, though her clit was quite
prominent.
“I guess I’m next. I’m Caroline, I’m nineteen and I’m an education major. This
is my fourth visit and I come here because clit cutting intrigues and gets me
very turned on.” Caroline was skinny with a very flat, toned stomach. Even
though her breasts weren’t very big they looked surprising on her flat torso.
Her bush had been trimmed down so only a small, sparse patch remained. Her
small pink lips bowed out ever so slightly, and her clit was not even visible.
“Well, I’m Beth, I’m twenty five, and I’m an accounting major. I’ve been here
fourteen times, and have been a contestant twice before, I keep coming back
because I love the rush more than anything else” Beth was tall and almost too
skinny. Her breasts looked great on her though, and her pussy, with a trimmed
landing strip above it, was supple and dark.
“I’m Amber, I’m twenty two and I’m an art major. I’ve been here ten time
before, and I come because the idea of pleasure depravation has always been an
obsession of mine. Amber was meatier than the rest, but in many ways the most
attractive. Her dark skin looked totally natural and not tanning saloon
produced. Her ample breasts were the perfect size for enjoyment, and the
counters of her lips shaped her pussy perfectly, especially in the way they
framed her nice little clit.
“Excellent” said Brain, as he grabbed a stopwatch. “Audience please take a
ballot. Girls, you may begin masturbating now.”
They each set too it in their own way. Lindsey was the most aggressive,
plunging two fingers in right away and pumping fast. The others were more
methodical. Beth began by rubbing her breasts. She caressed herself, carefully
avoiding the nipple, while her other hand slowly stroked her inner thigh.
Amber also started above the belt, though her motions were harsher, as she
tugged and pinched her nipples. Erin has started with a vertical motion,
beginning at the top of her pubis and and working it’s way down. Caroline's
fingers danced lightly across her lips, only letting the very tips touch.
As the girls continued is was hard to know where to look. Beth was know
kneading her right breasts while circling her clit with her left finger. Amber
was alternating the placement of her hand, going from both hands squeezing her
tits to both hands working her pussy, one hand concentrating on the opening
while the other assaulted her clit. Caroline continued her dance, though her
finger had greater forcer behind them now and the motion was becoming more
regularly circular. Erin had moved one hand up to her breasts, while she let
to finger do their work on her clit. Lindsey has started moaning by this
point, as she fingered her shelf with one hand while the other roughly handled
her clit.
At seven minutes nearly all the girls were moaning. Lindsey’s was a soft whine
from low to high. Beth uttered a persistent and high pitched ‘uh’ that
accelerated and decelerated as she went. Erin was breathing heavily and
letting out a diverse range of very genuine moans. Caroline was breathing out
softly, with occasional grunts thrown in. Amber was just staring to emit a
choppy ‘ha”, which drove up in pitch as she progressed.
They all approached orgasm. Caroline came first she quickly pumped fingers in
and out of herself as her other hand rubbed her clit from side to side. She
took a deep breath and let it go on a large grunt as she settled back in to
the chair. Beth and Amber came at virtually the same time. Amber has one hand
on her breasts an the other furiously massaging her clitoris. She silently
reached orgasm as evidence by the strained look on her face, then let out a
huge sigh. Beth came by roughly rubbing her twat up and down, letting out a
high pitched squeal as her butt lifted off the seat of her chair. Lindsey and
Erin also came concurrently. Lindsey had actually turned over and started
humping the arm of the chair while she sat on her hand. She scream yes and
fell into the chair as she came. Erin was zealously rubbing her nub and
bouncing up and down as she came, her head turning left and right while
uttering a moans that went from high to low.
“Two, one and time. Great job everyone. Now, if the audience wouldn’t mind
voting and passing their ballots in.”
Pencils scratched across paper and the mass of people milled around to turn in
the ballot. Michael, Ashton, and Penny read the ballots aloud to Brian , who
made mark on a chalk board they used for the occasion.
“Well, lets see that’s fourteen for Amber, seventeen for Caroline, twenty two
for Beth, twenty seven for Lindsey and a fantastic forty four for Erin. Great
job Erin, you keep you clit tonight.”
Erin left the stage bowing as she rejoined the crowd.
“Wasn’t that fantastic everyone one? Now lets move on to the second task.
Erin, could you select and audience member to participate?”
“Hmm, alright, how about Jenna.”
Jenna was a short, buxom girl who exuded that sexy confidence with every step.
She walked calmly up to the front of the room with a devious smile.
“Alright, now Jenna, “ Brian continued, “It’s your job to inspect each of
these girls lovely, intimate areas. You can look at them, touch them, taste
them, or what ever you need to do to make a full assessment. If you can
provide one, a full description will help the audience enjoy the pleasure
vicariously. When you are done, you choose your favorite pussy, and it goes
free. Are you ready?”
“Very ready.”
Jenna swooped in right away, kneeling next to Lindsey’s pleasure center. She
simply looked for fifteen seconds, before pushing Lindsey’s legs farther apart
and moving in. She gently rubbed her for a few seconds, then spoke.
“Really very cute. Compact, a lovely shade of pink. The labia are there but
don’t get in the way, and this is a nice clit. Big.” She rubbed it up and down
as Lindsey moaned. “Lets see, it’s tight, but not super tight, a little looser
than I expected. Lets see how it tastes.”
She dove down and gave Lindsey a good licking, though not for long enough to
provide any satisfaction.
“Not bad, not bad at all, but a little sweet perhaps. Let’s see what Caroline
has to offer.”
Jenna Shuffled over to Caroline, whose legs were already open. She again took
time to simply admire the girls anatomy before proceeding with the
examination.
“Hmn, a very unobtrusive affair but not without merit. The color is simply
beautiful and the shape is delicate, possibly too much so.” Jenna slowly ran
her finger up Caroline’s slit until she reached the top.
“Very nice and wet... and what to we have here?” She had reached the clit.
"Ahh, the little devil was hiding, the surgeon will have a job if YOU lose
tonight. Now, inside... not as tight as I expected, my you’ve been a naughty
girl. And now for the taste.”
Again Jenna’s tongue explored the exposed contestant.
“Mmm, mild but no great delicacy. We shall see...”
Jenna moved on to Beth, who spread her legs slowly and seductively. Jenna gave
her an approving look while she stared at the intimate region. She moved in,
perhaps more sensually this time.
“A very different animal we have here. Such rich colors, not the exuberant
pink, but a subtle, inviting tan shade. And the lips are nice and substantial”
Said Jenna as she toyed with them. “The clit is average, but then that really
just functional when you have a pussy shaped like a rare flower. Not the best
in terms of moisture, but the texture is just velvety. And the taste... musky,
strong, and very erotic.”
When Jenna had finished her routine, she moved on to her final prey, Amber’s
snatc/. Amber’s movements weren’t as inviting as Beth’s, but with her eye on
the prize, Jenna didn’t seem to care.
“Now how nice is this! The supple, inviting dark tones on the out side, but
deliciously pink within. Very much like a flower with delicate but substantial
folds. And the bud... well, it just the right size, a little above average.
And simply dripping! Mmm... lovely taste too, balanced, unique and very
alluring.”
“Well Jenna,” Brian said, “Are you ready to make a decision?”
“I am. The winner is... Amber!”
Amber stood up, punched her fist in the air and hugged Jenna.
“That’s alright” said Jenna, “You can 'thank' me latter.” The crowd laughed
and Amber blushed but waved coyly back at Jenna as she rejoined the audience.
“OK Amber, what three lucky boy’s are about to be pleasured by our remaining
contestants?”
Amber looked around and considered her options.
“OK, how about... Marcus, and maybe... Austin, and Andy, why don’t you go.”
“Great” said Brian, “Now, if you could each go choose a girl, please go in the
order your names were called, so that’s Marcus first, then Austin, and Andy.”
The boys went excitedly up to the front. Only Andy had been up before. Marcus
chose Lindsey, Austin took Beth, which left Andy with Caroline. The announcer
continued.
“Right, so here’s what you need to do. In a moment I’ll need you to drop your
pants. If you don’t already have an erection, take matters into your own
hands. The, turn profile to the crowd so we can all see the action. I’ll call
go and the girls can begin. The mouth is the primary means of stimulation for
this task, but you can use your hands to augment the activity. However, I warn
you that any contact between penis and vagina or breasts is ground for
disqualification, as is anal play. Now, gentlemen, when you cum, please raise
your hand and say ‘Done’. Teh contestant must then disengage and show us the
evidence on her tongue. After the first boy cums, the other two contestants
should keep going or risk penalty. Is all this clear?”
Six heads nodded.
“Alright then, gentlemen, drop your pants.”
They did. It was clear no one was going to need extra effort to become
excited. The difference between the cocks was striking. Marcus was the largest
in both length and girth, being at least six and a half inches long and quite
thick. He was uncircumcised. Andy had a thinnish penis of five and a half
inched, and a tight cut. Austin, like Marcus, was intact, and while his was
probably only four and a half it was nearly as thick as Marcus’s.
“Profile’s please. Ladies, begin”
The contestants set to it, knowing that their clits may depend on it. There
techniques differed greatly. Lindsey, who was having trouble with the penis to
mouth size ratio, was very heavy on the tongue. While she certainly looked sex
giving the blow job, its efficacy could be in question, for she seemed not to
know what to do with the foreskin. Beth, and the other hand seemed much more
in tune with her partner. After giving Austin a very tantalizing minute of
head simulation, she had plunged in to perform the ever popular deep throat
technique. Caroline lacked the finesse of the others, but her gusto was
unmatched as she moved quickly up and down Andy’s member, doing what can only
be described and fucking his face like a vacuum cleaner. After just a few
minutes it was obvious by the men’s faces that end would soon be approaching.
Suddenly, two hands shot up simultaneously and two shouts of “done” echoed out
in unison. Both Austin and Andy were finished. As Brian went over to inspect
the mouth of Caroline and Beth, Lindsey finished off Marcus, but thirty second
too late.
“Well” Said Brian “I looks like we had a tie. I could not distinguish between
Beth and Carolines’s time’s, so we have to go to a tie breaker.”
The crowd cheered. This meant two more men would get their rocks off.
“We’ll go for hands this time. Marcus, since you came last, pick two more
gentlemen from the audience.
“Cody and Ryan.” Marcus said quickly.
“Alright boy get on up here.”
The two boys hurried up while Marcus, Andy, and Austin put their pants back on
and rejoined the audience. Lindsey sat back in her chair, looking slightly
frightened.
“Pants down.”
The two obeyed and reveled very similar cocks, Cody being about six and Ryan’s
five and a half, both cut.
“We’ve got enough chairs, so why don’t you sit next to each other like your in
a car? Simulate the real experience. OK, hands only this time. And go.”
Caroline set of on Cody while Beth did Ryan. Both were lacking in technique,
but it was clear they were going as fast as they could. In a matter of minutes
Cody threw his head back and shot, giving Caroline the win. Ryan followed
fifteen second later.
Caroline stood up and took a bow. She licked the cum of her hand bent down and
gave Cody a kiss. The crowd loved it.
“Thank you Caroline, you were a great competitor. And now there are two. Only
chance separates one of you from permanent separation from her clit. So, Beth
and Lindsey, are you ready?”
They both nodded, Beth still with a big smile and Lindsey with a slight air of
trepidation, though is was clear from her nipples and pussy that she was
aroused.
“Alright. Here I have two slips of paper, one with ‘cut’ written on it and the
other with ‘safe’ written on it.” He showed the girls and then the audience
the slips. Then he folded them, placed them in the hat and swirled them around
with his hand.
“It’s up to chance now. One tiny slip of paper could change your life. Beth,
you did better in the last task, would you like to go first of last?”
“I’ll go first.”
“Fine. Both of you turn your heads to the side, close your eyes and stick your
arm out.”
They followed Brian's instructions. He moved to Beth first. She grabbed a
piece of paper from the hat and clutched it in her hand. Brian moved the hat
and Lindsey did the same.
“You may now look at your slips.”
Slowly the girls turned around and unfolded the paper they had drawn. Beth’s
expression was unreadable, but it didn’t matter because it was clear what
Lindsey had. Her face had flashed from shock to arousal to fear.
“It’s me.” Said Lindsey, meekly.
The crowd burst into applause. They were always supportive at this point. Beth
gave Lindsey a hug, a very erotic sight that did not go unnoticed by some
members of the audience. Beth rejoined the crowd.
“Now, Lindsey, you know what this means. You will have your clitoris cut off.
Do you understand and accept?”
“Yes.” Lindsey seemed confident now.
“Good. That means it’s time for your final orgasm. Bob, will you come up here
please.
An unassuming blond man walked up to the stage. He can’t have been more than
22.
“Ready?” said Bob. Lindsey nodded.
Bob lead her to a chair and pushed her down gently. He spread her legs and
moved his head in. For extra stimulation he rubbed is rough chin gently across
her inner thigh. Then he blew softly on her pussy. His first movements were
very soft. Tender contact between the tip of his tongue and lips with the
edges of her lips. He licked them up and down and planted kisses on them,
paying full attention to the folds before he moved on to her doomed part.
Again, he started very slow. As he picked up pace her breathing became more
labored. She let out soft an airy whines. After ten minutes Bob was moving
much more quickly, sucking her clit, using his tongue to penetrate her, and
even nibbling at her folds. In a matter of moments she came of the final time.
As he backed away she stood up.
“I’m ready.”
She looked determined and very aroused.
“To the operation room then!.” Said Brian. “I’ll lead the audience, Lindsey,
you go with Doctor James.”
A tall middle aged man walked up to Lindsey and escorted her down a hallway
until they reached the operating room, which was gleaming white. He lead her
to the table and helped her up. He moved her feet to the stirrups and strapped
her in.
“There we go. I’ll just go scrub up. Oh, and please sign this forum.”
He handed her a medical release form and a pen. He watched as she signed it,
and then indicated she should just throw it on the ground and lay down.
“Great. I’ll be right back.” The doctor said.
Lindsey lay back on the operating table. Goose bumps were visible all across
her naked body. It was unclear as to whether they were the result of the
temperature of the room or fear. The look on her face told an interesting
story. Though still nervous, it was clear she was highly aroused. Her flushed
cheeks and labored breathing, as well as an odd smile gave her away. Like
nearly all the girls in the club, Lindsey was excited by the prospect of
loosing her clit, even with the consequences. Brian’s voice was clearly
audible, even through he has on the other side of the glass surrounding the
room.
“Looks like we are about ready to begin. And here comes the doctor now.”
Doctor James reentered the room, now wearing scrubs, gloves and and operating
mask. A masked assistant wheeled in his tools. The doctor set right to work as
Brian explained the procedure. Throughout his commentary moans could be heard
from the audience as everyone there began to indulge themselves.
“Let the fun begin. What the doctor is doing now is sterilizing the area to
prevent infection. However, you should all note that this offers no pain
relief. Lindsey will go through this with full sensation. Now doctor James is
stimulating the clitoris to ensure the maximum amount is cut off. And here is
the clamp. He will attach it to her clit, secure it, and then he simply
presses a button and the blade will sever the organ, with minimal blood loss.
It’s going on, this is it folks.”
Lindsey’s muscles tightened as the clamp attached to her clitoris. This was
it. She held her breath. In two secondz she nearly fainted at the inrush of
pain. She was fairly certain she screamed.
After she had recovered her senses, she looked down through her watering eyes
and saw the truth. She no longer had a clitoris.
* * * |
Unwilling Eunuch | STRAIGHT | He should have had a vasectomy, now he was being sterilized. | Unwilling Eunuch
Gerry was a sailor in the navy since he was 16. He was a handsome, rugged
looking man, with a broad stocky build, and was about 6 feet tall. He had a
full head of dark brown curly hair, and a very thick black curly hair covered
his broad muscular chest, and over most of his body. Gerry was proud of his
body, and worked hard in the gym to keep it in good shape. Gerry was now in
his twenties, and loved the lifestyle in the Navy, and did not want to settle
down.
Gerry had a long term lady friend by the name of Jenny. Gerry had known Jenny
since he was 18 and they had seen each other over the last 5 years or so.
Jenny was a few years older than Gerry, and was an independent woman who lived
her own life as she wished. Jenny was from a wealthy family, and did not work
but lived off a stipend that her family gave to her each month. Jenny was an
unusual woman in that she remained unmarried, but had four children which were
fathered by Gerry. Jenny spent most of her time with her children, but loved
socializing with other men as well. Jenny could not take any form of birth
control, and hated using condoms. Each time Jenny had met with Gerry, she
tried different ways to get most of his semen out of him to reduce the risk of
pregnancy. Jenny tried various techniques to avoid pregnancy, especially with
Gerry, as she knew now that Gerry was extremely fertile, and that many times
she had sex with Gerry she ended up pregnant. The only technique that Jenny
found that was of any use was to try to get as much semen as possible out of
Gerry before she would let him enter her.
It was Jenny who first introduced Gerry to prostate massage during one of his
visits. Jenny had read that if this was done correctly, a man could be made to
blow most of his load in one session, and in subsequent climaxes the volume of
semen would be greatly reduced. One night, when she was having sex with Gerry,
she worked her finger between his balls and his asshole. Gerry seemed to like
this as he became quite erect, and she could see by his reaction it was
stimulating him intensely. Jenny worked her finger closer to his asshole, and
tried to enter with her finger. Gerry tensed up when Jenny did this but he
trusted her and let her proceed. His sphincter muscle tightened as she tried
to enter, but with gentle massage, he finally relaxed and let her enter. Jenny
spent some time massaging the sphincter, and noticed that Gerry was starting
to pre-cum. She kept massaging while she took the tip of his dick between her
lips, and gently sucked off the pre-cum. Jenny let the tip of Gerry’s dick
fall from her mouth and let her tongue massage the underside of the head of
his dick. She let her finger slip further into Gerry’s asshole and she found
his prostate. As Jenny felt Gerry’s prostate suddenly his balls moved up
towards his groin, his prostate swelled up and became quite hard, and he shot
a huge load up over his chest and onto the wall behind. Several large spurts
followed which also hit the wall. Never had Gerry felt anything like this
before, and the sensation of having his prostate touched was enough to make
him blow everything he had. There was cum everywhere, over his chest and on
the wall. His dick was still erect, and semen was still oozing out of the end
of his dick. Jenny now knew how she could easily get Gerry to blow his load.
Jenny got up and cleaned up the mess, while Gerry lay on the bed recovering
from the exertion. His erection remained the whole time while Jenny was
working, after which Jenny got back into bed and cuddled up to him. Gerry was
so turned on with what had happened, he was ready to go again. Jenny slid down
the bed and started as before, but this time sucking on his huge balls. When
she slipped her finger into Gerry’s hole, she found his prostate was not as
large as before, although it grew in size and hardness as she continued
working on Gerry. This time Jenny extended the process of bring Gerry almost
to climax, but slowing or changing tactics to stop him from cumming too
quickly. Jenny brought Gerry up to the threshold over and over again until his
balls started to ache due to the pressure that was building up. His prostate
was now as almost as large as before, and was hard as a rock. As soon as Jenny
touched it the pre-cum dribbled from his dick. Jenny knew that Gerry needed to
cum, but she just kept on and on until he was wild in anticipation and she
could hardly touch him before his balls rose in his groin ready to climax.
Finally Jenny decided it was time, as Gerry was now panting and grabbing her
head to hold his dick in her mouth. Again, Jenny massaged Gerry’s swollen
prostate with her fingers while sliding her tongue along his shaft until he
blew another load. This one was still several spurts which shot onto his
chest, but there was nowhere as much cum as last time. It was still very thick
and white, so Jenny was concerned that he still had too much.
Again, she cleaned up the mess while Gerry lay panting on the bed. Jenny lay
with her head on Gerry’s hairy chest for some time before he stirred again.
She spent some time avoiding his advances, and changed them into cuddles,
until she could see that Gerry was ready yet again. This time Jenny spent much
more time working on Gerry’s dick and his balls with her mouth. She knew he
loved it when she took a ball into her mouth, and let it pop out again through
her lips. They were too big to get both into her mouth, so she would suck on
each alternatively. She sucked the full length of Gerry’s cock into her mouth
letting her tongue work on the shaft, over and over again and alternating this
with sucking on his balls. She kept this up for half an hour when she was
feeling tired and knew Gerry was also getting tired. This time she sucked his
cock into her mouth, and slipped her finger in his asshole to find his
prostate again. Gerry blew another load, into Jenny’s mouth, and she could
tell there was not so much cum this time. They fucked several times during the
night, but Jenny knew Gerry was near spent and was unlikely to get her
pregnant. Jenny thought that the anal massage was her key to avoiding
pregnancy as she got most of Gerry’s cum out this way. Gerry got to like
having this done, and so it became a regular part of sex with Jenny.
This routine was basically followed each time they had sex, and Jenny found
that Gerry always moved about in bed while she was either working on his
prostate or sucking on his balls. She suggested to Gerry that she wanted to
tie him up so that he could not move about while she worked on him. She wanted
him to be in full control until he was spent. Gerry reluctantly agreed to be
tied to the bed, but after several sessions he liked being controlled while
Jenny worked on him. He found it so intense having his balls sucked and
manipulated while he was unable to respond in any way. He would blow an even
bigger load as the intensity was so high. Their sessions continued on like
this each time they met when Gerry was on shore.
Jenny had a friend, Sue who she confided in regularly. She did not know that
when she had introduced Gerry to Sue that they made an arrangement to see each
other. Sue knew all that Jenny was doing with Gerry, and her attempts to avoid
getting pregnant. Sue was a trained nurse and had been working as a nurse for
many years, and she wondered why Gerry did nothing to minimize the risk of
pregnancy. Sue did not understand why Gerry would not use condoms or have a
vasectomy, as he said he did not want to settle down to a family. She
challenged Gerry about his fertility and kept insisting he do something about
it. She realized that Gerry was proud of his fertility and was not concerned
about getting women pregnant.
Sue found Gerry to be a very masculine man, and she could see how women would
fall for Gerry sexually. One day she found out that Jenny was pregnant to
Gerry again and felt really angry about it and she decided to do something
about it when they finally met.
One night Gerry came to visit Sue and as usual tried to get Sue into bed. Sue
knew what Gerry liked from what jenny had told her, so she coaxed Gerry to let
her tie him to the bed. In his enthusiasm he agreed, and let Sue tie each arm
and each leg tied to one of the bed posts so that he was spread eagle and she
had full access to him. Sue worked on Gerry’s balls, sucking them into her
mouth and popping them back out again with some pressure. The sensation was
driving Gerry wild and he was already aching to cum. The hairs on Gerry’ balls
kept getting caught in Sues teeth, so she got up, went to the bathroom and
found some shaving cream and a razor and came back to bed. She got a bowl of
warm water and proceeded to lather up Gerry’s balls. Gerry protested, but
could do nothing as he was strapped to the bed. Once Sue had Gerry’s balls
lathered, she started stretching down the sack and shaving the hairs from his
balls. It was a long and difficult process and the hairs were long and kept
clogging up the razor. Finally she was done, as best she could and washed off
the remaining lather. Now Gerry’s large balls were exposed and looked quite
large now that they were not covered by hair. Gerry was quite annoyed with Sue
for shaving him and he stated calling her names and threatening her. Sue
looked at Gerry’s shaved balls and saw that there were many missed hairs.
Gerry was already angry with her, and she liked being in control. She knew
this was the only time Gerry would be under her control, and he was now
swearing at her and saying this was the last time this would ever happen.
Sue was now feeling defiant, so she went back to the bathroom and got a pair
of clippers. Gerry saw her return and increased his threats at her. This only
made Sue worse, so she turned on the clippers and clipped off all of Gerry’s
pubic hair and the remaining long hairs on his balls. Once she had finished
with the clippers, she lathered up his groin and shaved his groin clean. Now
Gerry’s cock and balls looked huge now that there was no longer any hair
covering them up. Sue got onto the bed and starting sucking Gerry’s balls into
her mouth again. Gerry responded with a large erection, but she knew he was
really angry with her. Sue kept working on Gerry’s balls and he started to
pre-cum in a short time. Sue stopped working on his balls to stop him cumming
too soon, and started playing with his freshly shaved balls in her fingers.
She felt the thick vas deferens to one ball, then felt for the other vas; both
felt thick and firm, and while Sue was feeling them she had an idea.
Sue had helped with vasectomies when she used to work in the day patient
section of the hospital, and she knew what to do. She had nothing to lose, she
knew Gerry would never le her tie him up again, in fact she thought he would
never return to see her again after this treatment. If she gave him a
vasectomy, then he would not cause any more pregnancies so she would be doing
the world a favor. Sue went to the bathroom and got some alcohol,
disinfectant, scalpel, and some surgical thread that she had always kept in
case of an emergency. She returned to where Gerry was tied to the bed. Gerry
knew she was up to something, but did not know until he felt Sue apply alcohol
to his balls. It stung like crazy, and he started swearing even more at her.
Sue ignored Gerry’s threats and wiped disinfectant on his ball sack and put on
a pair of surgical gloves. Gerry wondered what she was doing and suddenly
froze when he saw the scalpel in Sue’s hand. He started struggling like crazy
and swearing out loud at Sue, but she just ignored him.
Sue lifted Gerry’s ball sack and made a small slit in the center with the
scalpel. She found the vas and started to work it towards the slit. In a short
time she had the vas out of the slit, and she pulled out as much vas as she
could. Normally for a vasectomy, they pull just enough chord out the tie it
off sever the chord, as this leaves plenty of chord if the operation is to be
reversed. Sue had pulled so much chord out that it would be difficult to ever
reverse the procedure. She tied off the chord at each end and had about 6”
between the threads. The she cut near each thread so that she had about 6” of
chord free. “Now that ball will never produce any more babies” she said aloud
to Gerry who started swearing even more loudly at Sue. She started working on
the other vas and in a few minutes had another 6” of chord. “Now you are
infertile, no more kids from you. You should have done this yourself ages ago”
she said to Gerry.
Gerry was now really angry with Sue and was threatening to harm her when he
was released. His language was now very crude and angry and Sue was concerned
for her safety when she released him. She had never seen him so angry and
aggressive, and as he threatened her even more, so the more defiant she
became. She thought to herself: “his aggression is largely due to his
testosterone, so maybe I go the whole way and take out his balls.” Sue sat
back on the bed and applied more disinfectant to Gerry’s ball sack. Gerry
became so abusive that she took some plaster bandage and closed up his mouth
the silence him. She moved back down to his ball sack, and made the slit
bigger. She started working his left ball out of the slit and in seconds it
was free in her fingers. She tied the whole ball off with surgical thread and
cut it free. Gerry struggled like crazy during the whole procedure, but he
could not break free. Sue started working Gerry’s right ball out of the sack,
and tied it off.
“Well, now you will be a eunuch, this is the end of your sex life” she said to
the violently struggling Gerry as she cut through the chords to his last ball.
Gerry, suddenly relaxed, spent from the exertion and knowing he had lost his
masculinity forever. Sue cleaned up his sack and closed the slit with surgical
thread. She covered the closed slit with a bandage and stood looking at the
neutered Gerry.
* * * |
The Lycian Prince 53 | GAY, NULLIFICATION, MINOR | A hopefully educational and interesting treatise on the history, politics, economics, sociology and theology of 3rd/4th century A.D. Nubia, a country for which Anthonius was now destined. | ` Chapter 53 – Priapus `
King Ebana was more than happy to accept the young offering to Nubia’s
paramount god. His was the first visit to Rome by a ruler of his ancient land.
The trip had been organised to provide Diocletian with formal fealty in
recognition of the Kingdom’s status as the Empire’s latest client state,
despite the fact that the Romans had no real interest in the country. The
Nubians had volunteered their own vassalage in the hope of improving trade,
needing desperately to supplement the income from their current main export,
black slaves including many young nullified eunuchs. As Diocletian once
remarked to Caperius in the palace torture chamber, when the major domo was
threatening to cut off Sura’s cock and remaining scrotum, only the Nubians
seemed to have the knack of guaranteeing that victims lived after
nullification.
The King and his entourage had used the opportunity of their trip to try to
discover and learn the secrets of the Empire’s military and mercantile
successes and establish better trading contacts, spending two months in and
around the capital in so doing. The party also purchased some items to take
back but within the constraints of a very limited budget. Nubia had fallen on
hard times since the collapse of its main export market, Egypt, into being
merely another heavily-taxed province of Rome, an event that had caused
prolonged regional economic recession.
The two banquets that Ebana had attended at the beginning and end of his stay
in Rome, at which Anthonius had been the star performer, were the formal state
welcome and farewell in respect of his visit. Before Anthonius’ arrival at the
latter, Diocletian, wanting to be generous in return for the favour that he
was to request, had presented the Nubian King with several magnificent
farewell gifts. They included chests of gold and precious jewels, four superb
white horses and twelve young white pretty virgin slavegirls, all paraded on
the entertainment dais before the ecstatic monarch.
Ebana, having a surfeit of black concubines at home, was grateful for the
white slave girls for variety, especially as he dare not spend any of his
small budget on acquiring his own. His subjects would not be too pleased if he
had utilised valuable funds to acquire luxuries for himself, and there were
dangerous rivals for his throne. No white people currently lived in Nubia and
few had been known to visit. The girls would become the kingdom’s first white
residents. However, the King’s immense gratitude in receiving the gifts was at
first slightly tempered by the omission of some pretty white slaveboys, who
would have represented his preferred sexual tastes. He was therefore even more
elated to be presented with Anthonius, who would become the only white male in
the distant land.
It did not matter that Anthonius was destined for Priapus as Ebana was the
god’s archpriest and, as such, he would have plenty of opportunity to enjoy
the boy’s sweet body both before and after the lad’s almost certain
nullification. Diocletian had also granted the King a couple of bonuses. Ebana
could use Anthonius as he wanted on the voyage home, despite the fact that the
former Prince was to remain formally an Imperial boy companion until his
anticipated acceptance as a Priapic penalslave, maintenance of such status
increasing the honour being afforded to the god. Additionally, on eventual
return of the offering’s severed penis, the Emperor had promised to despatch a
harem of white slaveboys to the King in thanks.
It is only recently that the magnificence of much of ancient black Nubian
civilisation is being fully appreciated. It pre-dated that of the Egyptians
and continued long after their northern neighbours had succumbed to direct
Roman rule. In fact, the Nubians once conquered Egypt and black Pharaohs ruled
both realms for about 100 years around the 8th century B.C.. Archaeological
research now suggests that the first city in Africa and the first place of
dedicated learning in the world were both Nubian. The Nubians built many
superb structures, including their own large pyramids, some of which are
extant and can be seen in today’s northern Sudan. Unfortunately, much has also
been lost to archaeological study. In a terrible act of cultural vandalism,
many of the main sites of Nubian society, including that of the city for which
Anthonius was headed, were lost under the vast deep lake formed by the
construction of the Aswan Dam in the 1960s.
Nubia’s earlier glories had faded somewhat by the time of Anthonius,
exemplified by economic hardship, political instability and the adoption and
dark adaptation from Greek culture of the worship of Priapus. This had become
the main religion and the temple to the god in the country’s capital was huge
and sinister. It was in effect a type of roofed amphitheatre, with steep stone
terracing, accommodating several thousand worshippers, surrounding a sunken
rectangular area where the ceremonies were conducted. Public entrance from
outside was to the top of the terracing via stairwells that led to a long wide
encircling corridor, from which steps led down into the amphitheatre. The
corridor was also lined with kitchens and latrines, serviced by the temple’s
menialslaves. The cooking facilities existed because it was customary for all
worshippers to feast slowly whilst watching the long ceremonials, which were
the main source of free public entertainment.
Hidden underneath the terracing and in the cellars were the quarters for the
priests and acolytes and the cells for the offerings and slaves, as well as
some shrines for minor rituals and several free male brothels, each catering
for different tastes. The brothels were divided by age of prostitute and into
those for men who enjoyed nullified catamites and those who did not. The
Priapic religion of Nubia actually promoted homosexuality as a divine practice
and most freemen, even those with several wives and large families, indulged,
if only for variety.
The whole temple was windowless, being illuminated by many oil lamps,
suspended from the ceilings or attached to the walls, and was decorated,
inside and out, with many wall carvings of Priapus’ sacred symbol, a huge
black phallus. The stone surrounds of the main ceremonial area, plus all of
the shrines and the main corridors, were lined with cubby-holes displaying red
bowls embossed with the Priapic insignia and containing black genitalia
immersed in preservative fluid. Ebana was looking forward to affording a
certain white scrotum pride of place amongst the collection.
At one of the short ends of the main ceremonial area was the entrance through
which the senior priests, their acolytes and their young charges would enter.
Above the entrance was the cushioned royal enclosure. At the other short end
stood the altar to the god, the centrepiece of which was a genital guillotine,
similar to the one Anthonius had encountered in the obese Arab’s fortress. The
device had actually been invented locally many centuries before the eponymous
Frenchman claimed credit, although its allegedly humane ingenuity was
subsequently lost to history. The Arab, who had conducted some trade with the
Nubians, had bought his own copy of the contraption from the Priapic
Highpriest.
The Kingdom did not encompass all the Nubian race. There were large tracts of
territory to the south inhabited by more primitive but fiercely independent
tribes. The Nubian Kings had long ago given up their attempts to conquer these
peoples, satisfying themselves instead with sending the army on frequent
plundering raids to secure, in particular, slaves for both the domestic and
foreign markets, the Kingdom’s economic lifeblood. A carefully chosen
selection of these captives would be temporarily presented to the Priapic
Highpriest.
They had to be pretty boys who had not yet developed pubic hair but who could
nevertheless produce semen. One, attired only in a minuscule red loincloth
emblazoned with the Priapic motif, would, after purification in the sacred
Nile, be presented every evening to the main altar for the god to decide
whether to accept the offer of genital sacrifice. This was determined, after
the conclusion of lengthy preliminary rituals, by requiring the usually
quaking offering to pull one of 64 small wooden balls from a red cloth bag,
also displaying Priapus’ symbol. 32 of these balls would be black and 32 red.
Selection of one of the latter would be unfortunate for the boy as he would
then find himself hitched naked to the guillotine. His soon-to-be lost
genitals would be immovably secured in the chopping hole through which the
heavy and exceedingly sharp blade would pass easily without real hindrance,
causing the severed organs to fall into a red bowl below. The boy would be
permitted one last climax before the ringlet, attached to his cockhead,
triggered the catch that released the blade for it would be expertly set to do
so only with the expulsion of semen, a technique that, fortunately for
Anthonius, the obese Arab had never mastered. The last ever sperm produced by
the victims was collected in another red bowl for other ritualistic use. The
odds of the draw meant that genital sacrifices occurred on average every other
day but excited full houses of appropriately anointed worshippers of all ages
and both sexes were always present to observe the outcome. In fact, demand for
terrace seats invariably exceeded the number available and a rotation system
for the plebeian populace had been established to overcome the problem in a
fair way. Royalty and nobles had the ancient equivalent of season tickets.
Ebana was already wondering whether he could get away with auctioning seats
when it was time for Anthonius to appear before the altar, as he believed that
interest would be overwhelming.
The required sacrificial orgasm would be induced by attaching a similar small
bag of excited bees to the boys’ cocks, as experienced by Anthonius in the
young Prince’s quarters, the victims having previously been subjected to
enforced chastity and strong aphrodisiacs. Niachiarus had recommended the
crude but effective vibrator to Diocletian’s son as an aid in Anthonius’
humiliation. He was aware of the devise because, like all nullified Nubians of
the time, he had suffered his emasculation in this temple at this very
guillotine, which was encrusted with dry blood as it had been responsible for
nullifying thousands of victims and the external wooden surface was never
cleaned, although the blade and triggering system were serviced daily. The
Priapic priests had uniquely become experts at ensuring that the valuable new
eunuchs lived afterwards so that they could be sold on as slaves, mainly
abroad.
Niachiarus had delighted in proposing to Casperius that the same fate that had
befallen him should be encountered by the former Lycian Prince, but with a far
worse aftermath by also offering the boy as a Priapic penalslave, and had been
ecstatic that his suggestion had been accepted by Diocletian. Priapic
penalslaves were not generally captured plunder but were usually citizens of
the Kingdom. The boys would commonly meet their sad fate not because of any
action on their own part but rather because of that of their fathers. Entire
families of criminals, dissidents and rebels were invariably condemned to
enslavement and any sons that met the required physical criteria were
forwarded to the Priapic Highpriest.
The offerings, kept permanently chaste and of whom there were usually several
concurrent, had to face the possibility of drawing a ball from the cloth bag
twice. The first time, always performed the day after an equinox or solstice,
was to see whether Priapus considered the boys’ evil, instilled in their blood
by being the sons of deeply sinful fathers, was sufficient for them to deserve
to spend the rest of their lives in penal servitude in the temple. If the god
decided that they were not, the boys would be sent to the city market to be
sold as ordinary slaves. However, if the god decided that they were
sufficiently full of iniquity, they became new penalslaves who had to
undertake an initial period of penitence during which attempts would be made
to expunge their sin.
On the god’s weekly sacred day, the boys would be purified, in a small shrine
in the temple cellars, under a shower of sacred water funnelled from the
nearby Nile. They would then, so that their bodies could be infused with good
essence provided by virtuous seed, either be sodomised or made to perform
fellatio before the main altar, in early days by the priesthood, later by
noble laity selected by lot. Finally, again before the altar, they would
suffer torture, progressively more severe as the days passed, in an effort to
purge some of their corruption through the infliction of pain. These rites
before the main altar, which formed part of the preliminary rituals for the
day’s genital sacrifice offering, were interspersed by dancing from the
penalslaves. Temple boy prostitutes danced as part of the sacrificial
preliminary rituals on other days.
On the intervening six days between such unpleasantries, the boys would be
required to perform penal labours. Sometimes these would be within the temple,
such as being part of the team of six slaves allocated to each of the
waterwheels that fed the vast complex’s elaborate system of running water.
Sometimes the unenviable tasks would be outside, in quarries or on public
works, the biggest of which was currently the construction of Ebana’s huge
pyramid tomb.
This weekly routine, which Anthonius was to be the first white boy to
experience, would last for three months until the next equinox or solstice.
The penalslaves, after purification in the sacred Nile, would then be required
to submit to the usual ritualistic requirements in front of the main altar
before performing the second draw. This draw was to determine whether Priapus
considered that the expulsion of the penalslaves’ evil had been completed or
whether it had to be expedited through immediate genital sacrifice. If the
latter was declared to be the god’s will, the earlier rituals would be
repeated. However, the infusion of virtuous male seed into the boys’ anuses
would now be provided by the god’s sacred cheetahs, leather guards having to
be attached temporarily to the shoulders of the recipients to protect them
from the claws of the animals. Nothing would be supplied to defend their
rectums from the massive phalluses possessed by the trained eager creatures.
The subsequent ritualistic tortures would concentrate on the boys’ naked
genitalia.
Regardless of the outcome of the second draw, the penalslaves would spend the
rest of their lives in the temple, initially acting as whole or nullified
catamites in the brothels until they lost their attractiveness. They then
became temple menialslaves. Temple slaves, several hundred in number, rarely
attempted to escape and none of those who did were known to have succeeded.
They, especially the new penalslaves, were very well supervised by the many
lesser priests, who were effectively just guards. When not required for
rituals or labours, slaves were always kept in chains, locked in tiny gloomy
but clean single cells, devoid of any furnishings or facilities, with daily
ablutions and consumption of the one meal of gruel taking place in communal
areas.
If an attempt to escape was made, the slaves were not difficult to identify
amongst the wider population, and not just because of their sparse but unique
loincloth attire. The bodies of all new penalslaves were adorned with
prominent tattoos, a pleasure awaiting Anthonius’ delicious white form.
The difficulty in escaping was compounded by the large rewards available to
anyone who returned an escaped slave, alive or dead, and the nature of the
country. The only viable route out of the Nubian capital was along the Nile
for the land all around was arid desert. The fact that returned live slaves
had their feet chopped off was usually the clinching factor in convincing them
not to try in the first place.
It was now August and Ebana and his entourage would not return to Nubia until
well after the autumnal equinox as they were to visit two other locations on
the way home. Anthonius, who would pass his 15th birthday in October during
the journey, would therefore not make his first draw until the day after the
winter solstice in December. The virtually inevitable second draw would be
scheduled for the vernal equinox in March. Ebana thought that it was rather
ironic that the beautiful white boy would almost certainly be losing his
reproductive capacity at a time when nature begins to bloom in celebration of
its marvellous cyclical vitality, facilitated by fertility.
The odds that penal offerings were faced with were the same for both
ceremonial draws but were much harsher than the 50:50 chance confronting
ordinary captives and varied according to their or their fathers’ crimes.
Culpability for treason presented the worst opportunity to escape either penal
servitude or nullification as the bag would contain 63 red balls and only one
black one. However, Ebana, the Priapic archpriest, had decided to make a kind
exception for the treacherous Anthonius. The black ball would be changed for a
white one.
(To be continued in Chapter 54 – ‘Departure’)
* * * |
Bob's Story, Chapter 6 | STRAIGHT, WARNING, TESTICLES | Sometimes the reality of cuckolding can be more intense than the fantasy itself. | ` `
BOB'S STORY
Chapter 6
The confusion that produced in my racing brain stunned me, and it was only
after I was able to overcome it that I responded by pleading, "Please! I want
that more than anything. Please let me do it."
She replied softly, "I will, honey, one last time. But there's something we
have to do first." She then reached to the nightstand and handed the gaily-
wrapped box to me. She said, "Before you open it, look at the pretty gift
wrapping I got for you. Do you like it?"
Looking at the paper was the last thing in the world I wanted to do right
then, but I did as she asked. The wrapping was quite attractive, but certainly
not all that much out of the ordinary. The pattern consisted of narrow silver
stripes, separated by colored stripes that faded from pink to blue, and then
back again. I finally replied, "It's very pretty. Thank you for selecting it
for me."
She smiled, then said, "Did you notice how the colors change from pink to
blue?" At my nod, she continued, "The lady at the gift shop said it was for
"sex-indeterminate" gifts. She said that people who buy gifts for a baby
before it's born like that particular pattern, since the color will be right
no matter if it's a boy or girl. I thought it was particularly appropriate for
you, since in many ways you're no longer a man. Now go ahead and open it. I
think you'll be really excited by what we got for you."
It's a measure of how low I had sunk by then that her description of me had no
effect. I suppose I shared her opinion of my sexuality, and also didn't think
of myself as a real man. It was for certain that I couldn't measure up to my
nephew when it came to sexual equipment or lovemaking. I guess it was a case
of her opinion being more accurate than not.
The box was quickly unwrapped, and then opened. What I saw exposed there was
both exciting and mystifying.
The first thing that caught my eye was a foil-wrapped condom, and that was all
the evidence I needed to believe that I truly would be allowed to fuck my wife
that night. My hands shook as I removed the thing from the box, and I stood
there in silence for several seconds, wondering if I was expected to put it on
my raging hardon, or if I should wait for instructions from her.
She solved the dilemma for me by saying, "Put it on the nightstand, honey. You
won't need it for a few minutes. Look at what else we got you for your
birthday."
There were two other items in the box, and I took out the larger and held it
up to inspect more closely, having no idea what the thing was. It appeared to
be an oversized pair of pliers, but each jaw had two metal prongs attached to
its tip. I couldn't fathom what use I would have for such a thing, since I had
never been the handyman type. Finally I moved my eyes away from it, and looked
at Carol with my unspoken question.
She said, "I'm sure you don't know what it's for, do you?" I shook my head,
and she continued, "That's something Mark uses quite a bit at his clinic. The
real name is 'elastrator,' although he says most people just call it a bander.
It's used to castrate the animals people bring in."
The shock that passed through my body then was greater than any I'd ever felt,
and I feared I'd pass out and fall to the floor. I'm sure the expression on my
face was laughable, but Carol didn't respond to it, continuing in a very
serious tone, "I've told you several times that I wish there were some way to
make it so you wouldn't feel so much frustration that you can't fuck me
anymore. Well, this is it. Mark says if you're castrated, as soon as all the
hormones leave your body, you'll be much more accepting of your situation."
She then took my free hand in hers, kissing it before saying, "Sweetie, it's
what I want for you. It's what you need. Please say you'll let me do that to
you. Please, honey. We both want it to happen, I know. I've thought of doing
that to you ever since Mark told me about it, and just the idea is enough to
make me hot enough to cum when I squeeze my legs together. Please let me do it
to you. Please. If you do, I'll let you fuck me one last time."
She continued, in the silence I was unable to break, "There's something else I
need to tell you now, and it's another, maybe even more important reason for
you to be castrated. Mark and I want to have a baby, and he says that you
can't continue to live with us if you're still able to get me pregnant. I know
you'd never fuck me without his permission, but he says he won't take that
chance, and that either you or your balls have to leave. Please, honey, let me
castrate you so you can stay. Please."
I was too dumbfounded to speak, and stood there in silence as she reached out
and took my nearly-deflated penis in her hands. As she rubbed and caressed it,
my mind seemed to clear more with every fraction of an inch it regained. By
the time it was fully erect once more, I had already arrived at my decision,
and when she looked up to me and whispered, "Will you let me castrate you?," I
responded by nodding my head, then saying in a whisper of my own, "Yes."
She said softly, "Thank you, sweetheart. I knew you'd say yes. It just makes
me love you all the more. Thank you."
With no further hesitation, she began to squeeze and pull my sac, trying to
loosen it. Not a word was said by anybody in the room as she worked the thing
farther and farther from my body, until she was at last satisfied it was
stretched as far as possible. She then took the elastrator from me, saying,
"There's a band in the box. Put it on the posts for me."
I picked up the box and took out the one thing that remained in it. It looked
for all the world like a very heavy rubber band, light green in color. With
leaden hands, I placed the thing over the four metal posts on the tool she was
holding out to me. She squeezed the handles, which stretched the band until
there was an opening in it of almost three inches. Nothing was said as she
lowered the tool to my crotch, then guided my balls through the rubber ring.
She said, without looking away from that oh-so-fascinating sight, "Mark, is
that the right position? Is that where the band should go?"
He replied, "It looks okay. I really shouldn't do anything to help you do
this, you know. I could lose my license just by being here. All he'd have to
do is say I helped you castrate him, and then I'd be out of a job."
Carol said very seriously, "There's no need to worry on that score." She then
looked up to my face, saying, "Honey, if anyone asks who castrated you, what
will you say?" She paused, continuing to look directly at me, waiting for my
answer.
I knew what she wanted to hear, and said softly, "I'll say that I did it to
myself. I'll say I stole the thing from Mark, and castrated myself."
She gave me her most loving smile, then once again lowered her gaze to my
crotch. I leaned forward a slight amount, watching the fascinating sight of my
stretched sac and balls hanging through the band of rubber. Carol didn't
hesitate any longer, and began to slowly release the tension on the handles.
As the jaws closed, the band shrank in size, growing ever closer to my
scrotum, and the vital cords imprisoned within.
Very slowly the band shrank, until finally the metal posts contacted my flesh,
and the ring loosely enclosed my sac and cords. Taking a large breath to
steady herself, Carol used her other hand to carefully push the band up and
off the posts, and as it cleared those constraints, it shrank to its former
size.
The squeezing I felt was painful, and produced a strong feeling of discomfort.
As she removed the pliers, I had an unobstructed view of my imprisoned balls,
and saw they had ceased their constant writhing, and were at last at peace. My
brain wouldn't allow me to have a similar peace, but seemed to have suddenly
reverted to the state of arousal it'd been in before my wife said she wanted
to castrate me. Somehow, the pain I was feeling in my crotch was translated to
arousal, as strange as it may seem. As I've said before, I'm a fucked-up guy.
I don't deny it.
Once again, my only purpose and focus was to allow my cock to spurt forth its
semen, and I prayed that she would fulfill her promise to let me fuck her,
even if it was for the last time ever in my life.
She reached out to the condom and unwrapped it, then began to roll it down my
shaft. She said, "Mark says it'll take several days for you to be sterile, so
you'll have to wear this. Just think, if you'd have worn one of these when we
were dating, you wouldn't be in this fix now." She laughed, but I was unable
to join her. Deep within my heart of hearts, I knew this "fix," as she called
it, was exactly where I wanted to be. What she had done by cuckolding me, and
everything since, had been nothing less than the answer to my most fervent
prayers. Even though it had cost me my balls, I knew it was worth it.
Carol then told me to get on the floor on my back, saying that Mark wouldn't
allow me to fuck his wife in their bed. I was beyond caring about anything
other than cumming by that time, and didn't react in the least way. Instead, I
dropped to the floor and got on my back just as quickly as I could.
She got off the bed, straddled my crotch, and lowered herself while guiding my
little cock inside her pussy. As soon as she had settled all the way to my
abdomen, she said, "My God! I can't feel you at all. You can't possibly be
that tiny, can you? Are you sure it's in?"
She raised up a small amount, looked back between our bodies, then said in
wonderment, "It's really in me. I can't believe it. I used to think your penis
was just fine. Now I can't feel it at all. My God, how could I have put up
with that all those years? Now I love you more than ever for sending me to a
real man."
All the time she had been saying those things to me, she had been moving her
body up and down on my shaft. I had to agree that the stimulation I was
receiving from fucking her was much less than I remembered, although I could
certainly feel it, even through the sheath she'd put on me. I'm sure that,
given the state of arousal I was in, even the slightest breath of air against
my cock would have put me over the edge. The feeling of her pussy enclosing
me, even loosely, was the most wonderful thing in the world right at that
moment, and with a soft groan I raised my hips and began to cum.
As soon as I had finished pumping my semen into the rubber she'd put on me,
Carol raised up and squatted beside me. She grabbed the tip of the sheath and
quickly slid it up my still-erect shaft. As she brought it to my mouth, she
said quietly, "Stick out your tongue. Don't swallow until I tell you to. I
want to look at your last cum that still has babymakers in it."
The robot that was then living in my body opened its mouth and extended its
tongue. My wife began to squeeze out the contents of the condom, and I felt
the slimy stuff landing on its target. When she was satisfied the thing was
entirely empty, she bent close to my face and stared for several seconds at
the deposit she'd made there. At last she said, "Yuck! It looks just like
snot, doesn't it? Go ahead and eat it now." The robot then closed my mouth and
did just that.
Carol then stood and helped me to my feet. She took my hand and led me to the
door, while looking back over her shoulder and saying, "Lover, I'm going to
take him to his room now. I'll be right back for a long, slow fuck. God, I'm
so damned horny I may wear out your big cock before I'm through with it! I
won't be long."
As the two of them laughed together, she led me to my bedroom, turning on the
light as we entered. Through glazed eyes I saw that two lengths of rope had
been tied to the two upper corners of the bed, and the free ends were laying
coiled loosely on the bedspread.
There was a glass of water and a bottle of pills on the nightstand that had
not been there the last time I was in the room, but that and the ropes were
the only things new. She opened the bottle and shook out one of the pills,
then handed it and the glass of water to me. She said, "Swallow this, sweetie.
It'll help with the pain as your balls die. It'll make you pretty sleepy, too,
and maybe you'll even have some strange dreams. Mark said it'll make you
'suggestible,' as he called it, so I'll have to be careful what I tell you to
do, I guess." She laughed softly at that, then took the glass from me and
replaced it on the nightstand.
Carol released my hand long enough to turn back the covers and top sheet, then
told me to lie down. She then pulled my arms toward the corners of the bed,
tying the ropes to my wrists to hold them there. She explained, even though I
hadn't asked, "We need to keep your hands away from your crotch for the rest
of the night. Mark says it'll take that long for your balls to die, and if you
remove the band before then, all my work will be wasted."
She continued, "Actually, you'll need to leave the band there for a month or
more. That'll give your balls a chance to shrivel up and fall off, and that'll
be a much better way to do it than having to cut them off with a knife. He
says if you take the band off after only a few hours, you might get blood
poisoning. That's why we have to have the ropes, honey. Okay?"
I could do no more than dazedly nod my head, and when she saw my agreement,
she continued, "I'm going to go back to bed now. I'm so damned horny I can't
think straight, and I need a couple of hours of fucking. Do you want me to
bring it to you when we're through?"
I didn't need to use any of the tiny remaining brainpower I still had to
understand what she meant, and answered by nodding and whispering, "Please."
She smiled sweetly at me, leaned down and kissed my cheek, covered me with the
top sheet, then left the room. She turned off the light on her way out, and as
I lay there in the darkness, feeling my balls becoming increasingly numb, my
mind was as close to a blank as it ever had been.
_________________
My next memory is of knowing someone was in the darkened room with me, and
then feeling the sheet being turned down. No sound was made as she straddled
my head, then lowered her dripping-wet crotch to my mouth. I was equally quiet
as I performed the service that had become the center of my life, licking and
sucking with every bit of my energy, the only sound in the room coming from my
throat as it swallowed load after load brought to it by my questing tongue.
To my surprise, my attentions to my wife's crotch seemed to be arousing her,
as they had earlier that night. That was unusual, since for the past few
months, she seemed to derive very little stimulation from my oral services.
This time, however, she began to sigh and moan very softly before I was even
halfway through my cleaning efforts. By the time I could find no more to eat,
she was pressing her crotch tightly against my mouth, and I was sure she was
on the verge of cumming, although she didn't do it.
I heard her say softly, "I want to see them. I'm going to turn on the light."
The light burst forth from the bedside lamp, illuminating her beautiful body.
The extreme distension of her nipples, and the way her chest heaved, confirmed
that she was indeed aroused. Even more confirmation was provided when she
quickly re-mounted my face, but this time facing my crotch. I could feel a
slight tugging on my sac, but that was the only clue I had as to what she was
doing. Again speaking barely above a whisper, she said, "I think they're dead.
Can you feel that?"
I said the only thing I could feel was a slight tugging, and then she raised
up enough to allow me to look between her legs. She said, "Look what I'm doing
to them, honey."
As my eyes focused on her hands and my sac, I saw that the thing was more grey
than pink in color, and parts of it were almost black. She had separated my
balls and was squeezing them between the thumb and forefinger of each hand. I
could see she was using so much force that her fingers were actually touching
her thumbs, and knew then that she was correct. Surely if my nuts had been
alive, what she was doing to them would have caused me to pass out from the
pain. Now, all I felt was a slight tugging. I was sure the worthless things
were dead, and rather than that knowledge causing me any sort of grief, I
simply dropped my head to the pillow, hoping she'd lower herself to me once
again.
She soon did that, and quickly centered her pussy over my mouth. I was
surprised when she reached both hands around her body and spread her cheeks,
then wiggled her butt until my nose was firmly in place against her puckered
opening. That sensation brought another sigh from her, and then she whispered,
"Put it in me there. Push your nose inside me."
I tried with all my might to push my nose into her as deeply as possible, and
actually got half the thing where we both wanted it. In my mind, I was trying
to push my entire body into her, where it would be absorbed and become part of
her forever. Again and again, I pushed my head against her, but could gain no
more entry than before.
She was obviously frustrated by my failure, and said sharply, "Use your
tongue, damn you! Do it! Put it in me!" She moved quickly forward until her
opening was centered on my mouth, and her pussy was riding my chin. With no
hesitation I stiffened my tongue as much as possible and began to work it into
her hole. Her sighs told me of her appreciation, and they seemed to spur me to
greater efforts. Soon it felt as if my whole tongue had penetrated her, and I
could feel her pressing strongly against my face as she sought even more.
Her movements, her sighs, and her moans told me she was approaching orgasm,
and I intensified my efforts to help her achieve that goal. Suddenly I felt
her push even more strongly against my tongue, and heard her impassioned cry,
"Suck it! Now! Suck it out of me, you little wimp!"
As if under the direction of some exterior power, my tongue withdrew and my
lips locked around her opening. As she pushed her spinchter against me, I
sucked with all my might. I have no clear memory of the next few moments
beyond that point, other than knowing she was climaxing from the stimulation
my chin was providing to her clitoris, and the so-very-exciting thing she was
doing to me. My mouth realized there was something in it, and it reacted by
swallowing. I have no idea if that happened once, or many times. The robot
that was inhabiting my body was in charge, and it seemed to have completely
shut down my brain.
I had the exquisite feeling of her hand on my penis then, and knew she was
gripping it as tightly as she could, while pumping it rapidly. There was only
one possible response to that, and so my body made it. I felt my hips lift off
the bed with the force of my climax, and then the indescribable ecstasy of
cumming swept over me. I'll never forget her words to me as my cock spurted.
She whispered, "This needs to come off, too. You want to be rid of it, and
someday you'll beg me to take it off you."
At some point in the future, she was sitting on the bed beside me. Her hand
was scooping up the small amount of watery cum from where it had been spurted
onto my chest and stomach, and slowly bringing it to my mouth. I was
mechanically licking it from her fingers and swallowing it. It seemed my only
reason for existing was to dispose of whatever she chose to feed me, and that
was what I did.
I remember her speaking to me, saying, "I'm going to call your school in the
morning and tell them you're sick. I think you need some more of my special
medicine. Giving it to you was even more exciting that I'd thought it would
be. I can't tell you how much I love you for doing it. It was better than I'd
ever imagined. All the other women in the chat room said it would be, and they
were right."
She then covered me again with the sheet, kissed me good night, turned off the
light, and left the room. I think I closed my eyes, but am not sure. At any
rate, the next thing I remember is the alarm ringing, and being unable to turn
it off because something kept me from moving my arms. I was devastated that I
wasn't allowed to serve breakfast in bed to the two most important people in
my life, and hoped that Carol would soon release me.
______________
So, there it is: the story of my life. You can take it or leave it; I don't
care one way or the other. You can see it as a cautionary tale, and realize
that if you think it would be very exciting to watch your wife fucking another
man, the same thing could happen to you. If you choose, you can use it simply
as another jack-off story, and that's fine with me. It happened, and I have no
regrets whatsoever. I'm now a eunuch, and I serve my wife and her sexual
husband in whatever ways they require of me. If some of the ways I serve my
wife seem disgusting to you, then that too is your choice. I simply don't
care; I love it.
The End
* * * |
New world - 3003 | STRAIGHT, NULLIFICATION | In the future sperm is scarse. | New World.
==========
Mike, a scientist from the 20th century awoke. He opened his eyes slowly
to behold a group of women surveying him. He was naked. He asked them
where he was. The were surprised but told him "Medical Lab 1 - the year is
3003". He was stunned. They finished the medical examination and he got
dressed. Natashia escorted him on a tour of the faility.
She explained that men in this time, were not intelligent at all, and are
used for gene production only. Only a few males are produced each year.
The bulk of the population are female.
Over the next month Natashia and Mike had many conversations about the past
and present. Exchanging information. Natashia, then put it to Mike, that
his genes would be of benefit to society. It would be a pleasure retorted
Mike. Natashia then lead him to another lab. She asked him to strip. He
stripped. His penis stood to attention. She approached carrying a sheath.
She inserted his penis into it and flicked a switch. He felt light headed
as it stimulated his cock.
Natashia approached and gave him a shot of something in his arm. He felt
good. Her voice now sounded hipnotic. She told him to approach the table
and push his cock and balls through the ring standing on the edge. He
did as he was told. Natashia approached, looked at his organs and smiled.
She unhooked a wire from the ring edge and rapped it around the back of
his scrotum and then lifted it up and around his cock. Stand still she said.
He was not bound. He wanted to get away, but his body was not moving.
She smiled sweetly to him as she pulled the wire and severed his scrotum
and the his penis from his body. Mike's eyes shed tears as he watched
motionless as she de-sexed him. The de-sexing complete. She pushed him
away and attached a machine to his genitals.
Mike was carried out of the lab and on his way out - it was explained that
men cannot fulfill the gene requirement. But a machine supporting the male
sexual organs can. They thanked him for supporting the cause.
Natashia took him home. A few weeks passed by and Mike had totally forgiven
Natashia and they remained good friends. Talking about old times. |
The Watcher, Chapter 5 | STRAIGHT, WARNING, TESTICLES | If your wife suggests a vacation in Mexico, better watch out! | ` THE WATCHER `
Chapter 5
Even the slowest clock must eventually move, and so did the one that
controlled when the session would begin. As we finished our after-dinner
drinks on the shaded veranda, where we had been watching several couples
engaged in public displays of their particular "kinks", Maria at last
announced that it was time for her to prepare me for the evening. I hadn't
been aware that I needed any preparation, other than her making me extremely
horny by her attentions and stories of past sessions. However, when she stood
and held her hand out to me, I took it and allowed her to help me to my feet.
We re-entered the resort building, but instead of returning to my room as I
had anticipated, we walked down a long hallway on the opposite end. Maria
opened a door and indicated that I should enter, and I did. I had expected to
see Jeff suspended naked from the ceiling, but was surprised to see nothing
more than a padded table about six feet long and maybe three feet wide. There
was another woman in the room, although I should probably refer to her as a
girl. She surely wasn't more than 16 or 17 years old, but I could see her body
was mature.
Maria introduced her as "Donna, my assistant", and she offered her hand to me.
I could tell by her assured manner that she was completely familiar with this
situation, and remembered Maria telling me that she had also become an
assistant at a young age.
Maria then announced that it was time to prepare for the session, and the two
women began to remove my clothing. Again, I momentarily raised my hand as if
to stop my disrobing, then dropped it, determined to accept whatever was to
come. In a matter of seconds, I was completely naked, and was somewhat
embarrassed, although also pleased, to hear Maria and Donna praising my
beauty, and commenting on how ripe and delicious-looking my breasts were. When
Maria said that my pussy was also delicious, I'm sure I flushed bright red.
The two women then helped me get onto the table, where I was instructed to lie
flat on my back. As Maria gently parted my legs, Donna approached with a pair
of scissors. I was momentarily frightened, but Maria assured me that they were
only going to remove my pubic hair, which would increase my enjoyment of the
session many times over. Again I was reluctant, but put my fate completely in
her hands.
As soon as the hair between my legs had been trimmed, lather was applied to
the area. Both women participated in the shaving, and their sensuous caresses
and erotic words soon had me aroused. By the time a towel had been used to pat
me dry, my nipples were hard and my pussy was lubricating.
Donna then brought a small wooden box to the table and opened it for Maria.
Two shiny spheres, less than an inch in diameter were displayed to me by my
lover, and she then explained their use. "These are called Ben-Wa balls. They
are partially filled with mercury, which gives them a curious motion when they
are moved." She then placed one of the balls on my abdomen and pushed it
gently with her finger. The thing rolled a short distance, then seemed to take
on a life of its own as the mercury inside it reacted to the movement. I had
no idea how the things would be put to use, but assumed they would somehow
increase my arousal and excitement.
Maria continued, "Women in the Orient began to use the balls many centuries
ago. In use, they are inserted in the vagina. The woman then seats herself in
a rocking chair, and begins to rock. The action of the balls in her pussy soon
begins to stimulate her, and she rocks faster and faster. When the action has
reached a certain pitch, she will experience an orgasm better than anything a
man can give her. I've tried them many times, and can assure you they work
very well."
She and Donna then stood on either side of me and lifted my legs slightly and
spread my crotch. Before I had time to react to this invasion, Maria pushed
both of the balls into my pussy. She then said, "Now we need to use something
to hold them in place."
As my legs were lowered once again to the table, the balls reacted to the
movement. I could feel them moving in me as if alive, and when they bumped
into one another, the effect was very stimulating. I knew that I had to have a
set of my own, and aroused myself even further by imagining having them in
place while torturing Jeff. Each movement of my body would arouse me even
more, and he would soon feel the results of that.
Donna brought a device to the table that looked very much like a G-string,
except it was constructed of black leather. The strap that would cover my
pussy had a metal protrusion on it that looked to be about the size of one of
the Ben-Wa balls cut exactly in half. As the device was placed between my
legs, and then fastened around my waist, I could feel the little dome of metal
just barely enter me.
As soon as the thing was in place, Maria touched a small metal stud and I
heard a quiet click. Immediately a tingling ran through my vagina, centered on
the half-ball between the lips. The effect was very, very arousing, and I
gasped aloud from the effect. The two women smiled, and my lover said, "There
is a battery attached to the belt, and it's sending a very small electric
current through your pussy. Do you like it?"
I think I said something to the effect that "like" wasn't nearly strong enough
to describe it. I resolved to also get one of those belts just as soon as
possible.
Maria then said the words I had been waiting so long to hear. "Now, my love,
it's time to begin the session. May we escort you to the torture chamber,
where you can watch the delightful things we're going to do to your husband?"
The effect of the balls, and the electric current, was such that I could only
gasp a soft, "Yes!"
The women helped me to my feet and stood on each side of me. They took my
elbows and began to lead me toward a door in the back wall of the room. As
soon as I'd taken the first step, I knew why they were supporting me. The
balls moved vigorously inside me, seeming to amplify the effect of the
electrical stimulation I was feeling. Surely I'd not be able to walk even as
far as the door before cumming!
Seemingly right on the verge of climaxing, I could not get over the edge.
Every step aroused me even further, but always by less than the amount I
needed. By the time we walked through the door, my legs were almost too weak
to support me.
The sights presented to my eyes as soon as we entered the chamber were enough
to distract me momentarily. In the approximate center of the room, and hanging
from the ceiling, was a wheel. It looked like an old-time covered-wagon wheel,
except it was on its side, so that the axle, if there had been one, would have
been vertical. It seemed to be suspended by a steel cable which ran to a
pulley in the ceiling, and then down to a hand-cranked winch fastened to the
wall. There were two wide leather cuffs mounted on the rim of the wheel, on
opposite sides. I remember that Maria had referred to having a man on the
"wheel", and quickly understood its purpose.
Approximately eight feet in front of the wheel was a large wooden panel
mounted to the wall. It was literally filled with devices of all shapes and
descriptions. I recognized many of them as clamps, weights, straps, and whips
similar to the ones that I had used many times on my husband. There were many,
many other devices there that were unknown to me.
What drew my attention though, and held me riveted in place, was mounted in
the exact center of the panel. It was about a foot long, with a shaft 1/2" in
diameter, and with a knob on one end. That could be nothing else than The
Cactus. Immediately my mind was overcome with images of it being used on my
husband, and each image seemed to increase the effect of the stimulation I was
feeling in my pussy.
Maria must have seen where my attention was centered, for she said then, "Is
it not beautiful? Such a simple thing, really, but it can give so much
pleasure to you, and so much pain to him. Please let me use it." My arousal by
that point was at such a pitch that I actually considered giving my consent.
However, I once again overcame my lust and shook my head in the negative.
Maria said simply, "It's a pity to waste such a good opportunity. Maybe some
other time, yes?" I whispered, "Yes, maybe."
The third item that caught my attention was a large chair that was setting
slightly to one side of the wheel, and was facing both that device and the
panel that displayed all the toys that Jeff would soon experience firsthand.
The thing appeared to be an oversize rocking chair, and was very ordinary in
appearance except for some interesting modifications.
There was what seemed to be a footrest on the chair, and fastened to it were
two leather cuffs similar to the ones on the wheel. Each arm of the chair had
a single padded cuff attached to it also, and it was immediately apparent that
I would be seated in the chair, then secured in position. I didn't understand
the need for that, since I was more than eager to watch the proceedings, but
again decided to place myself in the capable hands of Maria and her assistant.
They escorted me to the chair, and then assisted me in seating myself. As I
had suspected, the cuffs were then used to secure my ankles and my wrists. It
was certainly a comfortable prison, due to the luxurious padding and pleasing
proportions of the thing, so I didn't feel at all ill at ease. Given the
amount of vaginal stimulation I was receiving then, I probably wouldn't have
complained if I'd been tied to a bed of nails.
As soon as I was securely in place, Maria turned a knob that was mounted low
on the side of the chair. I heard a subdued electrical hum, and then the chair
began to slowly rock back and forth, undoubtedly driven by an electric motor.
Immediately, the Ben-Wa balls reacted to the motion, and I could actually hear
them clicking as they bumped into one another inside my pussy. The motion of
the chair was agonizingly slow, and I longed for it to be speeded up so that
the horrible itch deep in my crotch could be satisfied. I was sure that if I
were left in this predicament for the duration of the session, my need to
climax would drive me out of my mind.
I saw a door at the other end of the room open just then, and looked toward
it. I wasn't surprised to see Jeff being escorted into the room, just as I had
been. His situation was slightly different than mine, though. His wrists had
been handcuffed behind his back, and his ankles had been shackled together.
The shackles were joined by a piece of chain about a foot long, causing him to
shuffle as he walked. His entry was as that of a condemned man being taken to
his execution. Given what Maria wanted to do to him, that was probably a very
apt comparison.
The thing that riveted my attention, though, was his penis. It had never
seemed overly large to me, being in the 6"-7" range. The thing preceding him
now, and pointing directly at the wheel as if eager to arrive there, was
surely two inches longer than that. The only part that convinced me it was his
normal cock was the diameter of the thing, which was its usual size. It was
then I realized that his body, except for his head, had been completely
shaved. The missing pubic hair had always obscured my view of the first inch
or two of his cock, and that part was now revealed to my gaze for the first
time, making the thing appear to be much longer than ever.
That he was more aroused than usual was evident from the rock-hard appearance,
and large drop of pre-cum that glistened there. His balls were drawn up
tighter than I'd ever seen them, and I couldn't help but wonder how the
appearance of that part of him would be changed in a short while.
The two who were escorting him by the elbows were even younger than Donna.
Surely they couldn't have been any older than 14, even though their breasts
seemed to be fully developed, and their pubic hair was full and glossy. I
remember thinking at the time that the only items of "clothing" being worn by
the six people now in the room were my belt and strap, and Jeff's handcuffs
and shackles. I'm sure he was in heaven then, surrounded by five nude females.
If he, like most males, could smell female juices, then he must have been
half-crazed with the scent of five pussies in close proximity to him. No
wonder his little dick was so hard.
He was guided to the place below the wheel, and then we all watched as Donna
slowly used the winch to lower it to a position just barely higher than his
head. His handcuffs were removed then, and his wrists were secured in the
cuffs on the rim of the wheel. At a signal from Maria, the wheel was raised.
Soon his arms were stretched above his head and only his toes were still
touching the floor. Rather than stopping at that point, Donna continued to
turn the winch handle, stopping only when his feet were well clear of the
floor. I heard him groan as his shoulders accepted the strain of supporting
his weight, but knew that he was well used to that, since I'd been suspending
him in our garage for quite a while by then.
His two escorts then knelt at his feet and unfastened the shackles from his
ankles. They then stood and left the room, their part in the session being at
an end.
Donna walked to the display panel then, returning quickly with an ordinary-
looking spreader bar. I had used such a thing on Jeff many times, but what
made this one different was that, instead of the 4' long bar I had used, this
one was over 6' long. I knew that if his ankles were attached to the ends, his
crotch would be so widespread that the skin would almost split.
It took the full effort of both women to fasten the bar in place, but soon my
husband was suspended before me, his legs farther apart than he'd ever had
them, and the look of pain on his face, and his moaning and groaning, telling
me that he was indeed experiencing more pain than ever before.
I saw that Jeff was staring intently at the various toys displayed before him,
trying to guess their purpose and use. He seemed to be looking with the most
concentration at the center of the panel, and I was sure that he was trying to
guess just what The Cactus actually was. I was sure that he had no idea of
what the thing did, or the intense pleasure it would give Maria to demonstrate
it for him. I remember that by that time, the stimulation I was receiving from
the rocking of the chair, the motion of the balls, and the electrical current
had me in a state or arousal that seemed much greater than any ever before.
Maria was a master at conducting a session like this. She allowed Jeff almost
a full minute to inspect the panel, and try to decipher the uses of the
devices there. She seemed to know instinctively that anticipation of pain can
be more terrorizing than the pain itself. When she was satisfied that he was
ready, she signaled to Donna.
The other woman walked to the cabinet, returning with two small things that
resembled earrings more than anything else. I immediately recognized them as
nipple clamps, because they were almost identical to the pair I had at home.
Maria massaged one of Jeff's nipples until it was fully erect, and then placed
the ring of the clamp around it and tightened it in place. His slight moan
told me that the drug which was supposed to enhance his ability to feel pain
was indeed working. He took hardly any notice at all when I clamped his
nipples in our garage, usually noticing the pain only after several minutes.
The other nipple was soon clamped also, and then Donna again went to the
panel. She brought back two large lead weights and handed one to Maria. When
it was shown to me, I could see that it had a short chain for attaching it to
the clamp, and the number "5" stamped in the metal. I knew that meant it was a
five-pound weight, and knew Jeff was in for considerable more pain that I'd
given him there. The weights I used at home were only two pounds, and even as
small as that, their constant tugging on his tender flesh caused his nipples
to stretch to almost an inch long. I was eager to see what would happen when
these much larger things were attached to him.
Maria quickly fastened the chain to the ring on the clamp, and then lifted the
weight as high as she could get it. Almost before I could fathom her purpose,
she dropped the thing. It fell quickly to the limit of the chain, which
snapped tight. Jeff cried out with the sudden pain, and then whimpered a few
times. As I watched the lead weight swinging back and forth, I could see his
nipple slowly stretching to accommodate it. It actually wasn't all that much
longer than it had been at home, but I was sure that the pain was much more
intense.
As Maria fastened the second weight in place, then lifted it, Jeff began to
beg her to stop. He whimpered, "No. Please don't drop it. Please don't."
That seemed to anger her, and she replied sharply, "Do not ever say 'no' to
me, little man. I do not allow that." She then lifted the weight as high as
she possibly could, then actually threw it straight down, rather than just
dropping it. At his howl of pain, she said, "Remember that the next time you
want to tell me what to do!" Jeff continued to whimper in pain as the two
women laughed at him.
Maria again signaled that she was ready, and Donna went to the panel again,
this time returning with a normal-looking riding crop. I had never used one of
those on him, but had considered it. I was sure that it would be even more
painful than the whip he was used to.
She grasped the crop as close to the end as she could, then raised it high
above her head. She turned to me, saying, "Do you remember when I told you
that the drug given your husband would make it nearly impossible for him to
lose his hard-on?" I was barely able to nod my head, and quite unable to
speak. Everything that had been done to Jeff had seemed to increase my already
overwhelming lust, and by then my throat was so tight that it couldn't form
words.
She continued, "Let me demonstrate." She then brought down the crop as sharply
as she could, striking the top of his erection with it. Her almost
instantaneous reward was the scream of pain that tore from his throat,
followed by incoherent babbles. His head had snapped back so strongly that I
was sure he had broken his neck, but soon saw him again lower his gaze to his
burning member.
I had been looking directly at his penis when the crop struck it, and was sure
that the thing had bent almost double with the force of the blow. As soon as
it had straightened, the site of the blow turned white, then immediately
showed a bright red as the blood returned. There was no evidence of softening
in the thing, and it almost seemed to grow. I know that the effect his screams
of pain had on me was to make my own excitement grow.
Maria then stood directly in front of him, with the riding crop lowered. She
looked directly in Jeff's face, then said quietly, "Now, little man, it's time
to loosen your balls. I can't do much with them when they're drawn up tight
like that." She smiled as she saw understanding dawn on his face, and then as
he began to plead, "No! Please, no! Don't hit them with that! Please don't!",
she actually laughed. It was obvious that she truly did enjoy her work, and
that giving a man pain caused her much excitement.
She said softly, "You apparently forgot my instruction. Never, ever say 'no'
to me. What would have been one blow will now be five. If you say 'no' again,
I'll add another five. Do you understand, little man?" Jeff's terror was
evident in his eyes, and he quickly answered, "Yes, I understand."
Maria then whispered, "Good. Don't ever forget this lesson. Never again say
'no' to a woman." She then brought the crop up with all her might, smashing it
into his sac. I'll never forget the howl of pain that tore from his throat
then. I found it hard to believe that a human throat could even form such a
thing, but the evidence was right before my eyes. At last it subsided to a
sobbing whimper, and his eyes, which had snapped closed at the impact, opened.
Maria, ever the master of timing, again brought up the crop, and again was
rewarded by his scream.
I was fascinated by what she was doing to my husband, and could not take my
eyes off the scene before me. I had seen his sac almost disappear into his
body when the stroke landed, and then reappear seemingly larger than before,
and blushing a bright red. The second stroke was directed to a different part
of the thing, and I heard the sound the impact made before it was drowned out
by my husband's screams of pain.
Again Maria paused, allowing Jeff time to lower the volume of his cries. She
then delivered the third stroke to his balls, with the same results as before.
By that time he had been reduced to an uncontrolled beast, screaming and
babbling in pain, his body jerking wildly as it hung suspended before me. His
head was thrown back, and I could see that his eyes were no longer focused.
Maria then gave him the final two strokes in quick succession, then stepped
back as if to inspect her work.
His sac by then was blazing red, and it was as loose and low-hanging as I had
ever seen it. If her purpose was to "loosen his balls", then it had been
achieved. His sobbing was continuous, but his body had stopped jerking and he
was looking at Maria with fear evident in his eyes. I found that look to be
very arousing, and wanted nothing more than to see it increase, and even to
see it there when he looked at me. I think that I suddenly understood the real
allure of power at that moment. To have another person fear you is the pure
embodiment of power and control. Maria obviously had it, and I wanted it also.
She continued to stand quietly before him, never moving or saying a single
word. Finally his sobs subsided, and every fiber of his being was focused on
Maria and her whip. At last she said, "Now, little man, I want to continue
whipping your pitiful, useless, little balls. Do you want me to whip them for
you?" The sheer terror on his face was priceless. He said quickly, "Please! N.
. ." The word froze in his throat before he could utter it, and I knew he was
recalling her instructions, and the terrible consequences if he said that word
to her.
Again she asked, "Do you want me to whip your balls for you?" His eyes darted
from me to Donna, trying to find someone to help him avoid this. I knew that
Donna certainly would do nothing to interfere, and I was unable to, even had I
wanted to do so. Far from that, I actually wanted to see him whipped, to hear
him scream in pain, to see his tortured body jerking about as it hung there.
At last he whispered a very quiet, "Yes." Maria asked angrily, "Yes, what?!
What do you want me to do to you?!" The look of a trapped animal was in his
eyes as he again whispered, this time saying, "I want you to whip my balls.
Please whip them." Her face bore a very pleased expression as she turned to me
and smiled. She then turned back to face him, lowered the whip even farther
than before, and brought it up with more force than ever. His screams started
even before the crop struck its target, as he anticipated the agonizing pain
to come. Again it took several seconds for them to subside to whimpers and
sobs.
Maria appeared to be satisfied with his training so far, and handed the crop
to Donna to replace on the panel. As she knelt in front of Jeff, the other
woman returned carrying two short lengths of cord that had a slipknot tied in
one end. She also knelt there, and each woman gripped one of my husband's
balls and began pulling then to the side. Jeff's screams again rang forth as
fresh pain shot through his tortured balls, and that seemed to inspire the
women to greater efforts. By the time they stopped pulling his nuts apart,
slipped the loops in place and drew them tight, there was easily four inches
between them.
Donna then stood, walked to the panel, and this time returned with two items
that looked to be metal rings that had been flattened on one side. Their shape
was that of a large letter "D" that was laying on its side. Lengths of chain
about three feet long had been attached to the top of the arc in each ring,
and the cord around one of his balls was passed through a chain link and tied
off. The metal ring was by that time dangling about 4" above the floor. I
remember being disappointed with the size of the thing, since it couldn't
weigh much more than a couple of pounds. I'd hung much larger weights on his
balls in our garage, and thought he was getting off pretty easy.
Maria quickly attached the second ring so it was also dangling the same
distance above the floor. She stood then, facing Jeff and looking directly
into his terror-filled eyes. He didn't know what she had planned for him, but
was sure that it would be very painful.
When he finally directed his full attention to her, Maria said, "Now, little
man, I want to tear your balls from your body. Do you want me to do that to
you?" When he understood what she was asking of him, he began to whimper, and
then to sob. Again he was unable to say "no" to his torturer, and finally he
gasped out a simple, "Yes."
Maria said softly, in a very threatening voice, "You have obviously not yet
learned your lesson. Answer me correctly right now, or I will get my crop once
again." That produced even more fear in him, and after trying for several
seconds to understand what was expected of him, he said in a defeated voice,
"Yes, I want you to tear off my balls." The thrill I had in my pussy at that
moment was beyond description. By that time, my whole body was dedicated to
satisfying my lust. I had no focus other than achieving my orgasm, and knew
that it would happen all the sooner, and have a greater intensity, when Maria
was finally finished torturing my husband. I know that sort of justification
is probably barely understandable to my readers, but it's the truth. His being
tortured was further arousing my lust, and I wanted it to continue.
Maria then gripped the nipple weights firmly in her hands and began to pull
them downward. Her reward was Jeff's cry of pain. She then placed her foot in
one of the dangling metal rings, and I immediately understood their purpose.
They were not weights, they were stirrups!
She used his nipples to support part of her weight, then lifted herself so her
other foot could find the second stirrup. As he felt his balls being horribly
stretched by her weight, his raw throat tried to once again give voice to his
pain. I watched in fascination as his sac stretched lower and lower, in
response to the force of gravity that was being applied to it. Even though
Maria had a slight build, she surely weighed at least 110 pounds. My brain at
that time was not capable of any sort of rational thought, but I know now
that, even with the part of her weight borne by his nipples, each of his balls
was surely supporting 40 pounds.
I'm quite sure the things would really have been torn free, except for the
fact that by the time they had stretched about 4", her feet touched the floor.
The pain must have been tremendous even so, for he never stopped crying out
and sobbing all the time she stood there. Surely the sensation must have been
as if his intestines were being pulled from his body.
When she finally decided that no further pain was being caused by the
stretching, Maria stepped out of the stirrups and released her hold on the
nipple weights. I was surprised to see that none of his things shrank to their
former positions, and wondered if his nipples would always be that long, and
his balls (or ball, in his case) always hang that low. I was allowed no more
time to dwell on that topic, though, because just at that moment Donna
returned holding a shiny metal tray.
Maria took the tray and then held it out to me so that I could inspect it.
What I saw there caused me more confusion and indecision than any other thing
ever before in my life. There was a small knife laying on the tray, which I
thought was probably a surgeon's scalpel. That part had been expected, so
didn't cause much surprise. There was also a syringe laying there, filled with
a clear liquid.
What did concern me was the shape of the tray itself. Pressed into the surface
of the metal were three shapes, and I immediately knew their intended purpose.
At the bottom edge there were two round depressions, about 2" in diameter and
spaced 4" apart. Between those was a single depression that was about a foot
long, and maybe 2" wide. At the top of that shape a perfect replica of the
head of a man's penis had been pressed into the metal. There was no doubt
whatsoever as to the nature of the objects that were to be placed on the tray.
As soon as Maria saw that I understood what I was seeing, she showed it to
Jeff. His reaction would have been comical in other circumstances, but here it
served to further inflame my lust. He seemed to be fixated on the thing being
held before him, and had eyes for nothing else. A constant moaning was the
only sound he made. Slowly his hips began to thrust back and forth as much as
possible, given his position. His cock, which had never softened the least
amount, seemed to become even harder, though I doubted such a thing was
possible. There had been a constant drop of pre-cum on his penis since he had
first entered the room, and now his excitement was causing his body to produce
even more of the stuff. I saw the drop grow larger, then begin to trail its
way to the floor on a silver string.
Maria stared directly at his face until he finally directed his attention at
her. At last she asked, "You know what this is, don't you?" He moaned again,
then nodded his head. I was sure his throat was so raw and tight by then that
he was simply unable to speak.
She continued, "Your wife has brought you here to be modified. She has
instructed that you are to have one of your balls cut away from your body. I
would prefer to remove both of them, and also your useless little cock. I want
to take everything from you and place the pieces on this tray. Do you want me
to do that?"
Although he must have been nearly unconscious from the pain and the high
degree of excitement and lust he was feeling at that time, he finally
responded with a hoarsely whispered, "Yes. Please take everything. Put my
things on the tray. Please."
I tried to cry out to ask Maria to stop, but my own throat was so constricted
that I could not utter a sound. It was beyond my power to stop this, even had
I wanted to. Reliving my situation now, as I write this, I know that I truly
did not want her to stop. I wanted her to sever every last bit of his manhood
and place the things in their proper places on the tray. Anyone who has ever
reached the intense level of arousal, of pure lust, that I was at then will
understand. The rest of you never will.
Donna had walked to the winch by that time, knowing what was to come. At
Maria's signal, she raised the wheel until Jeff's crotch was at a convenient
height. She then came back to stand beside her mentor, holding the tray that
Maria handed to her.
I watched the events unfold in what seemed to be slow motion. Maria first
removed the cords from Jeff's balls and dropped them to the floor. She then
picked up the scalpel and very carefully made a very shallow incision in one
side of his sac. After replacing the knife on the tray, she began to force the
ball out of its hiding place, and soon it was hanging free.
I truly had never seen such an ugly thing in my entire life. It resembled
nothing more than a swollen sack of jelly, and it deserved nothing more than
to be cut away for all time. The sight of his naked ball hanging there drove
me to greater efforts to make the chair rock faster, and thereby provide
enough stimulation for me to cum. Nothing could alter its slow rhythm, and the
only thing I accomplished was to further rub raw my imprisoned wrists.
Maria then picked up the syringe and injected the liquid into the base of
Jeff's cock. I had no idea why she had done that, and to tell the truth, did
not care. My only goal then was to cum, and I could focus on little else.
Again I tried to grind my pussy into the seat of the chair, but the soft
padding made that useless.
She took the scalpel in one hand and stretched the naked ball with the other.
With one quick slice, she severed it from the cord. After holding it in front
of his face, she placed it on the tray. It was obvious from his glazed, vacant
eyes that Jeff was far away, deep in his fantasy. Maria turned to me, still
holding the scalpel, and said, "Your husband is no longer able to respond to
me, so the choice is yours. Please let me take the rest of his manhood. You
know you want to watch me do it. Tell me now to do it to him. When they are on
the tray, I will let you cum."
"Yes" and "no" are such simple words, but I can tell you now that never in my
life have I found it so difficult, so nearly impossible, to utter one of them.
I was overwhelmed with my lust, and it ordered me to beg her to unman him.
Several times my lips tried to scream my answer, but a tiny, secret, part of
my brain stopped me. Finally I whispered, "No."
Maria stared at me for several seconds, then said softly, "So be it." She
replaced the knife on the tray, then said to me, "Your husband will now be
rewarded for giving me what I wanted. You will have to watch him cumming,
while your own release is denied." She then held the tray under the tip of his
penis with one hand, and began to masturbate him with the other. As she pumped
the thing, she spoke softly to him, saying, "Jeff, you have been a good slave.
You have given me your balls and your cock. I want to take them from you, and
you want me to do it. You want to see them on the tray. Someday you will bring
them to me again, and I will take them from you. You want that with all your
heart and soul. You will make it happen. I want you to cum now, Jeff. Cum
now!"
Never in my life did I think it possible for a man to ejaculate with such
force and volume. As Maria continued to stroke his cock, it began to spurt
gobbets of semen. She had to adjust the tray to catch the stuff, and to direct
it onto his ball laying there. By the time his jerking stopped, the thing was
completely covered with cum.
I don't know at what point I began to scream with rage and frustration, but
that's exactly what I did. I don't know that any of the sounds I was making
were actually words, but still they expressed my anger at him for cumming when
I could not, my frustrated denial due to my imprisonment, my total rage at
Maria for allowing him to cum, but not me.
The next memory I have is of Maria standing beside me, saying, "Look at your
husband, my love. Is he not peaceful now?" When I did as she directed, I could
see that Jeff was unconscious. I didn't know if he were alive or dead, and to
tell the truth simply didn't care. I wanted to cum, I needed to cum, I had to
cum! I was so jealous of him that I'm sure I'd have agreed to anything just
then, if only Maria had asked it of me.
Instead of repeating her earlier demand for permission to unman my husband,
she asked simply, "Do you want to cum now?" Every fiber of my being went into
the, "Yes!", that I hissed.
She then said, "You must promise to bring him to me again. I must use The
Cactus on him, and then cut away everything so that he is as smooth as you. If
you promise to bring him to me before a year has passed, I will let you cum
now."
I'm sure I spoke with no hesitation whatsoever, and at my impassioned, "Yes!
I'll bring him! Please let me cum! Please!" She then said, "Think of how good
it will be to watch me pushing it deep inside him, to see the spines slowly
breaking through his cock, to hear his screams of agony and terror. You must
do it! You promised!" She then turned the knob on the side of the chair and
immediately the speed increased. A small metal stud on my belt was then pushed
sideways, and I could feel the electrical current in my pussy grow stronger.
That was all my body needed to reach its long-denied goal, and my orgasm
overwhelmed my body and my brain.
___________________
There has to be the break you see above, because I actually have no coherent
memories from that time until I awoke late the next morning, in my bed. Maria
was lying beside me, gazing lovingly at my face. Even given the way I had been
treated the night before, with my overwhelming need for an orgasm denied for
what seemed an eternity, I still felt love for this young woman. When the
first words she whispered were, "Do you forgive me?", I began to cry and to
hug her fiercely, saying over and over, "Of course! What you did was the most
wonderful thing that's ever happened to me! I've never in my life had an
orgasm like that. In fact, I didn't even know such a thing was possible."
We kissed then, and it was probably the deepest, longest, most erotic kiss I
have ever had in my life. When we finally pulled apart, there was no
hesitation whatsoever in my turning in the bed and burying my head between her
parted legs. I felt her pull me over her, and then onto her own mouth.
We spent the remainder of that day shuffling between the hot tub, the bed, and
the dining room. We seemed to have eyes for only each other, and other than my
single question about Jeff, our thoughts were the same. Maria told me, in
response to my question, that Jeff was fine, and was at that time sleeping
soundly. He would remain asleep until the doctor discontinued the intravenous
application of drugs, and when he awoke the healing process would already be
well underway. That satisfied me completely, and I had no other concern for my
husband.
I did visit Jeff the next day, after he had awakened. Other than a small
amount of bandaging on his sac, and his monstrously swollen nipples, he
appeared unchanged. The change in his personality, his attitude, and his
bearing was evident, though. He had always been subservient to me, and I had
come to expect that. Now, however, there was an element of fear in the way he
looked at me through lowered eyes, and I have to admit that I loved the
feeling of power that gave me. I had thought before that he was my slave, but
now knew that was a pale imitation of the real thing. He was now truly in
bondage to me, and both he and I knew it. It gave me a special tightness in my
chest, a special thrill in my pussy, to see that. I loved it!
When Jeff was released from the infirmary two days after the session, he moved
back into our room. This time, though, there was no husband-wife relationship
between us. He slept on a pad on the floor, while Maria and I used the bed to
continue our passionate lovemaking. We allowed him to bathe us, and to perform
other housemaid chores. I took special delight in walking around the grounds,
arm-in-arm with Maria, while leading him by the leash attached to his collar.
He was naked at those times, of course, and it gave me a feeling of extra
arousal when the other guests would look pointedly at his bandaged sac.
On the third day, Maria presented me with a small box that had been gift
wrapped. I excitedly opened it, and was somewhat mystified by the contents.
What appeared to be a wrinkled prune had been encased in clear plastic to form
the shape of a teardrop. It had been mounted to a gold chain, to form what was
clearly a necklace.
Maria smiled mysteriously at me all the while I was trying to guess the
meaning of this gift. Then it dawned on me what was the true nature of the
"prune". We laughed long and loud after that, and I just couldn't wait to
again have our little parade, this time proudly wearing my necklace for all to
see.
When the morning dawned on the day we were to return to our home, I awakened
before Maria. I don't know how long I gazed lovingly at her face as she lay
sleeping. My heart was breaking at the thought of leaving her, but I knew
there was really no other choice. When she finally opened one sleepy eye, we
began to repeat the sharing of love that had been our practice for such a
short time. I wanted it to go on forever, but knew such a thing was
impossible.
When we could delay our departure no longer, we summoned the servants to carry
our luggage to our car, and then reluctantly followed them. Jeff had been
allowed to dress, the first time since his session. I proudly wore my necklace
as we walked to the parking lot, holding Maria as close to me as possible. She
was holding two more gift-wrapped packages in her hands, and she presented
them to me as we stood in tears. When I opened the first, I saw the Ben-Wa
balls, and as I suspected, the second contained the belt and strap that had
brought me so much frustration, and then so much pleasure. I knew that both
presents would find much use in the days and weeks to come, and would always
remind me of my lover here at this strange place.
As we hugged and kissed for the final time, we spoke in Spanish, as was usual
for us. She hugged me fiercely and said, "You must return to me. You promised
you would bring him to me once again. It will be very good, I promise. There
is nothing to compare to watching The Cactus do its work. I must have him."
I replied simply, "You'll have him, my love. We'll return, and when you have
him on the wheel, do what you will with him. I promise to bring him to you."
We drove away then, my eyes so tear-filled that I could not see for almost two
minutes. As we passed through the gate, returning to the "normal" world, I saw
an cholla cactus standing beside the road. One of the branches was about 2" in
diameter, and maybe a foot long. It was completely covered with spines. As we
passed it, I turned my head slowly to continue gazing at the thing.
I don't know how long it took me to realize that Jeff had spoken to me, but I
finally turned to him and asked him to repeat his question. He said
deferentially, "Will you bring me back here someday?"
I answered simply, "Yes."
* * * |
THE TIES THAT BIND~Bear Dance | GAY, PENECTOMY, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION, CONSENSUAL SLAVERY | PART XX~ Beau spends weekend with the Big Bear Master Dirk and Allen. Beau pops three of \'da Bear\'s Cherries! Master Dirk bribes Beau into convincing Allen there\'s more to sex than Missionary Position. Master Blanca-Lobos tells the story of Big Dirk and Allen.Do \'da Bear Dance~ | ` **THE TIES THAT BIND~
By Waddie Greywolf**`
PART XX~Bear Dance
The people have a vision quest they send their children on
to find the reasons why their souls are here and learn the
ways of their brothers the Wolf, the Bear, the Eagle, the Buffalo,
the Deer, the Coyote and the Crow.
They all must learn the dance of each to let their spirits intertwine
with the spirit of that animal. Not to become the animal, for only
skin walkers and Shamans can do that, but to learn it's ways.
To give them strength and knowledge of their world.
The dance most favored is the Bear Dance. It is the easiest for the
young seekers to communicate with the spirit of the Bear to bring
his presence to the Dance. If you are an observer, watch closely
and open your heart you may see the Bears before you dancing
to the sacred chants and drums! Our Brother the Bear has the
largest heart of all!
From the Journal of James Redfeather.
Part I~The Journals
Chief and Master Jeb were sitting at the kitchen table discussing Chief’s
Journal. Master Jeb had read it and was as wowed by some of Jim Redfeather
notes and observations. He had closed the book to acknowledge my slave’s
ritual greeting. I loved doing it with Master Jeb he always seemed to
appreciate ritual besides, he wore the hottest pair of big boots. I did the
same with Chief. He laughed at my insistence.
“We just left you two hours ago slave.” He laughed.
“That’s Beau’s way of expressing several things. With him it goes beyond
greeting! It says I love you! I’m hot for you! I owe you an apology! Love your
boots! Fuck me! Or his favorite, ‘I can’t figure out what’s going on here so
I’ll distract you by humbling myself until I get further input.’” Said Big Jim
laughing. I had to admit to myself his description was pretty damn accurate.
He continued, “I’ve watched him and he can say more in that simple action than
any slave we’ve ever trained. Funny thing is, nine times out of ten he gets
his message across loud and clear!” We all laughed.
Chief had washed his work clothes and was going to stay the night in his small
bedroom upstairs. Master Jeb continued his conversation with Chief as the
Dungeon Master and I got some Ice Cream for all of us out of the fridge.
That’s one thing a Giant is great for! For him, dipping into hard Ice Cream
was like dipping into soft butter. Opening stuck jars? Nothing better!
Something on the top shelf you can’t reach. No problem! He simply lifts YOU up
to get it! Handy Man to have around. In more ways than one.
“Chief!” Said Master Jeb, “It’s pretty remarkable that we have two people
under one roof that show definite literary talent. There’s some remarkable
stuff in you Journal. To have just been notes on learning about the psychology
and training of slaves has expanded to the story of a Man’s quest to find his
place in the Universe. I would like a second opinion.
Would you consider letting your Older Big Brother read this?
“I would be honored!” Replied Chief.
“I’d like for you to read this Jim if you have time! Can the slave read over
his shoulder Chief?”
“Sure! You know how Beau and I are. We’re soul Brothers. I wouldn’t feel self
conscious about him or Big Bro knowing any thing about me.”
“I think we both would like to read it Chief! Maybe we can read it to each
other!”Said the Dungeon Master.
“How ‘bout you slave? I’d like for Chief to read your Journal as well! No only
is it an interesting read I think it would also be a useful learning exercise
for him. I won’t order you to as it was understood to be a private
Journal.”Said Master Jeb.
“I owe the Man my life Master Jeb. I have no secrets from him. Certainly he
may read it if he wishes!”
“You know I would Beau! That part the Dungeon Master read at your slave
Ceremony had me in tears. Hell, it had every one in tears! There wasn’t a dry
eye in the place! The way Master Jim read it was powerful! Slow paced and
phrased as if every word was more important than the next. It was moving
stuff! Yes! I’d like to read it very much!”
“I’ll get it later and leave it in your room. I might borrow it back to write
more but I’ll return it afterward.”
“We took Chief’s Journal up to the Bear’s Lair to get ready for bed ‘cause the
Slave Driver had another full day planned. I left my Journal on Chief’s small
desk in his room. He had it fixed up kinda nice. A big psychedelic Mandela on
one wall and a picture of an old Indian Chief I didn’t recognize. I returned
to the Lair!
“We gonna’ shower tonight Beaver?”
“Don’t know why Dungeon Master when we’ve been parboiling in Hot water all
afternoon!” “Yeah! You’re right!” He snapped his finger’s at me and pointed to
his Big Boots. I was on them in an instance and he had his other Boot on my
Butt pushing gently but firmly. Slowly it came off and then slid off easily.
We did the same for the other. He always laughed at me when I would set at the
end of the bed and smell them for five or ten minutes. He caught me under the
covers with one, my head buried in it, sound asleep. I had fallen asleep
sniffing his big Boot. He and Master Jeb laughed at me every time they passed
me that next day.
“Besides Dungeon Master,” I continued, “You still have the smell of your
leathers on you that drives me nuts.”
“Oh Yeah!” He said like a little Kid, “Well you smell like leather too Beaver
and it does the same damn thing to me! So it’s unanimous! We don’t shower and
sleep with hard ons all night. You may find Babe crawling up your Butt to pull
the Ox cart in the wee hours of the morn. I’m still so hot I could pop every
time I think about that fuck you gave Sarge today. Now Dirk has a new name for
you! Have you heard: Studdly Screwright?!” He roared with laughter. Big Jim,
Dirk, Chief, Allen and me were hopeless “Rocky and Bullwinkle” fans.
Your Master was so fucking proud of you he just beamed. Sarge took him aside
later and told him he hoped he wasn’t upset at him being forward and using his
slave without first asking. He assured him as his fellow Family Man and
Brother he was welcome but that he had given his slave orders to pleasure any
Master at the party that wanted him! Sarge said some pretty good things about
you to Earl and I. He and Titus really like you!
I confided in the Dungeon Master that Master Zack was so horny afterward I
took him into the small half bath in the downstairs bed room and sucked him
off twice.
We lay down together and the Dungeon Master started to read from Chief’s
Journal.
“This started out to be a record keeping, note taking memory support for the
care and training of the Male slave. It has become the story of a journey. A
journey of one pilgrim seeking nothing but observation and small truths where
they may be found. It is a story of hope. It is a story of love. It is not a
conventional tale. It is a story of one Man’s journey to regain his soul
through subservience. His personal trip to the Mountain to expose himself bare
and kneel before a creature slightly higher in rank than the Angels. A Man!”
“Wow! Powerful stuff!” Said the Dungeon Master. “We’ll have to read more of
this another evening I can hardly keep my eyes open and you feel so........are
you??.....Good night Little Brother! Rest well and peaceful dreams!”
**Part II~Brother Bear**
The following week went by in a flash! The weeks never seemed to go by that
fast when I was working full time. Who am I kidding! I am working full time!
I’m up at the crack of Dawn running! We’re up to a mile a day now! Not to bad
for two people who just started running a month ago.
There would be a point in our runs that I would pass over to some other plane
in which I was euphoric. I felt like I could run for ever! I was running but I
felt completely divorced from the physical function of moving and breathing.
My body was carrying my spirit somewhere! Where? It didn’t matter as long as I
kept running. I kept getting this high. I no longer was exhausted when we
returned. I was alive and ready for the slave driver’s Gym of Hell! It really
wasn’t that bad.
The Dungeon Master had not insisted that we kill ourselves but if he thought I
was piking* on a level he would began to add more weights.
Friday afternoon came and Big Dirk pulled up out front on his big custom
Harley Chopper. He had full Leathers on and a black bandanna tied around his
head. He looked hot! He had just gotten off work at the Harley-Davidson
Dealership in Glendale where he was head Mechanic. Factory trained!
“Ready to go Studdly?” He asked me. He told me he thought I deserved that name
from my performance with Sarge in Master Earl’s Dungeon. He loved “Rocky and
Bullwinkle!” Thought it was the funniest thing on T.V.! Something we shared! I
thought calling me “Studdly” was funny! The Big Ox really yucked it up!
T’weren’t THAT funny!
“You gonna’ make me ride backward on your Hog like poor Duddly?” I inquired.
He roared with laughter.
“I should you little Shit!!” I went through the ritual with him and he gave me
the usual huge big Bear hug and kiss. He was really glad to see me. I was glad
to see him too. I put my bag on the back and gave the Dungeon Master a quick
hug and kiss.
“Go! Have a good time! Write when you get work!” He joked.
Big Dirk had his bike turned around ready to head down the hill.
“Climb on Sweetheart and grab a’holt a’somp’n!” Big Dirk hollered at me above
the roar of the Milwaukee Vibrator. I threw my leg across the back, found the
Buddy pegs, put my hands behind me to the ‘v’ bar and pushed forward. He felt
me push into him, knew Ihad a hold of the back and was off down the hill.
Master Dirk was a more cautious bike rider than I might’ve imagined. Either
that or he felt he might’ve scared me if he didn’t?
We got onto Sunset Blvd and passed the turn off to their place. Came to the
street you go up to get to Master Earl’s and started up. I didn’t know what to
think. We pulled in the car port and got off. The door was open to the
kitchen. I didn’t need any explanations when my Master walked out to give me a
hug.
“We don’t have a lot of room at out place so we’re camping out here with a
friend of ours. Hope you don’t mind Studdly! Just don’t forget! You’re still
my “fucking” slave for the weekend! Right!”
“Right! Master Dirk! Glad to be your slave but I think I’m in love with your
good looking friend!"
“Damn! He has that affect on all the pretty slaves!” Big Dirk laughed.
We went into the house and I went through the ritual greeting with my Master!
He hugged and kissed me. Allen was fixing a salad for dinner and hugged and
kissed me. Big Dirk led me off to one of the downstairs bedrooms where he was
camping and had me take my clothes off there. He didn’t leave!
When I was through he had a collar he put around my neck. It was the collar
Master Earl had bought for me. He carefully adjusted it in back, put a small
lock on it and snapped my leash on the front. He still had all his Leather’s
on! He looked and smelled great!
He grabbed me and sat me in his lap and proceeded to give me the hottest
passionate kiss I’d had in a while. This Big Man with all that leather on,
what was I to do? I wasn’t going to play hard to get that’s for damn sure! I
kiss him back with equal gusto!
“You’re gonna’ get to ride the ‘Wild Stallion’ tonight Studdly!” I didn’t even
ask! I just surmised he and Allen had worked out something.
Maybe Master Earl was gonna’ get some pussy tonight! And I ain’t talking ‘bout
old Monty! Good for him! Good for Allen! I was, after, all Big Dirk’s slave
for the weekend. I knew for sometime he had wanted me to ride him and I was
flattered. He hadn’t expressed interest in any other Man slave since Wes
according to Allen.
Dirk and Master Earl had exchanged slaves quite often! Master Dirk and Wes
were very close! Dirk became a confidant of Wes’s. He knew things about Wes
nobody knew and he didn’t share with either Allen nor Master Earl. What was
told to him in confidence was never repeated. If he gave his word, it was
Gold.
“You know what Master Dirk?”
“What Son?”
“I’d really be honored and proud to ride your ‘Wild Stallion’ but you have to
realize one important thing!”
“What’s ‘at Kid?”
“If I ride him he ain’t gonna’ be ‘Wild’ no more! He’ll be so sweet and tame
he’ll eat right out of you hand!” He let out a whoop! Then hugged me again.
“We’ll just see ‘bout that young’un! Don’t bet your lunch money!” We both
laughed. He was in great spirits. He led me up the stairs into the living room
and Master Earl looked up and whistled. I was completely nude, no Leathers,
and they all could see my development.
They said they could tell a difference from last weekend! I told them I had
gained a total of about twenty pounds in weight and my Leather Jacket wouldn’t
zip up any more. It wouldn’t even come together.
“Beau! You look great!” Said Allen. “Where is the twenty pounds? You don’t
look fat or heavy?”
“Muscle weight is about twice as heavy as fat!” Said Master Earl. “I learned
that from Wes!” “I don’t care what he’s doing he looks good enough to fuck!”
Grunted Big Dirk. We all laughed. “You gonna’ ring those tits Earl! You’d be
crazy not too!” Dirk offered his opinion.
“We were gonna’ do it last weekend but we never got around to it. We’ll be
back out to the desert to Zack’s place weekend after next. We may have it done
then! Plus a Prince Albert through his Dick! Sarge insists I have a septum
piercing but I’m not sure. I’ve always wanted a slave with a ring through his
nose. Hook his leash on to that ring, he’ll follow you anywhere! No Questions
asked!” They all thought that was great fun! I just got hard! They noticed and
then laughed at me as I blushed!
“I think you know what your slave thinks about it Earl!” Laughed Dirk.
“Septum too then!” I wasn’t too crazy about the piercing part but the idea of
the look and effect of a ring through my nose kept me hard all evening. They
laughed and hooted every time I got up from the table.
“Definitely a septum piercing!” Said Master Earl again!
They had gotten my favorite Italian food and I was eating everything! I had
seconds and then cleaned Allen’s plate. They were laughing at me eating so
much.
“I’ve never seen him eat that much! He used to pick at his food and eat just a
little! I can’t believe what he ate tonight! I can remember Wes would too when
he was working out heavy. Your body just demands more fuel. He can eat all he
wants as far as I’m concerned. If that’s the results, eat more Beau!” They
laughed.
It was a great meal and we had a good time. Master Dirk can be a charming Man.
He was intelligent and observant. He didn’t have much schooling but he
excelled in what he did! He was the top Harley Davidson Mechanic in Southern
California. He worked at the Harley sales place in Glendale.
Most all the Family brought their bikes to Dirk. He was honest and fair. All
he wanted was a good days pay for a good days work. He made damn good money.
They could afford a bigger place but the rent they were paying was dirt cheap.
Allen handled all the money!
Masters usually do that but their relationship was a bit different. It was
patterned more after the straight world. Dirk just couldn’t be bothered with
it. He wouldn’t write checks. Wouldn’t balance a check book! Hated paying
bills! They threatened to turn off every thing at one time or another not
because they didn’t have the money! Dirk just forgot to pay or just didn’t
want to be bothered.
Finally, Master Blanco-Lobos, Dirk called him Daddy Wolf, talked him into
letting Allen handle the money and keep records that he could look at
occasionally! Allen had never asked to do it! Just accepted his role as slave
to let Dirk handle everything. When Allen took over he found eight of his
paychecks from Master Blanca-Lobos had never been deposited. Dirk didn’t know
how to fill out a deposit slip! He wasn’t dumb! He’d just had never done it
and was embarrassed ask to anyone.
Allen took over the money and kept accurate books for Dirk to look at anytime.
Dirk looked at it once! He was satisfied that Allen knew what he was doing and
never looked at it again. Once in a while he’d ask Allen how much they had in
their accounts and Allen would get his ledger and tell him to the penny.
They were saving up to buy a small house or double wide trailer. Living where
the rent was cheap was sometime cramped for them but they were banking a
bundle every month.
Where ever they went Dirk carried the money! Allen would say, “He’s like Fort
Knox! Who’s gonna’ try to rob him?” He was right! Allen was so small that a
stout twelve year old could take him.
Allen and Button were much a like physically. Button was a bit bigger than
Allen but Allen had the brains. Every one thought they would become good
friends! Not so! Allen liked and tolerated Button but he got on Allen’s
nerves! Allen said it was because Button was so much like him when he was his
age that it made him uncomfortable to be reminded. He was never rude nor
unkind to Button! He just never had much time for him.
We finished the evening in the hot tub and came time to retire for the evening
Master Dirk led me to his bedroom. Allen was going to stay with Master Earl.
He loved staying with Master Earl.
Big Dirk was a factory trained Mechanic and commanded top dollar. Sometime
Dirk would have to go back to Milwaukee for a Mechanics conference at the
factory! He would be gone for a week or more and Dirk would either leave Allen
with Master Earl or Master Blanca-Lobos.
Of course he preferred staying with Master Earl ‘cause he got to pleasure him.
He loved Master Earl. Master Earl was quite taken with Allen as well. Once he
got over the idea he might hurt Allen he learned he could fuck that little
cunt with a vengeance. He loved to shoot a big load in Allen then lift him
over his head and drain his come into his mouth. Sometime he’d share half of
it with Allen! Sometime give him all of it! Allen was the only Gay Man that
could get Master Earl to put on his complete uniform and play “Speeding Ticket
or Blow job” Guess which one Allen would always choose?!
I had already helped Master Dirk off with his Leathers before we got into the
Spa. He pulled me down with him onto the protective leather bedspread. It felt
cool and good! He felt hot and good. I wouldn’t have thought that Dirk would
like to make love to a Man with the holding and kissing. Boy was I wrong. He
was a lover! He had me so wound up I was practically on my knees in tears
begging him to let me ride the ‘Wild Stallion.’
He finally let me make love to his big cock then gave me permission to take
it. I swallowed the whole thing and it surprised the hell out of him.
Surprised the hell out of me too! It was bigger around than Master Jeb’s but
was about the same length. It had one strange thing about it! About an inch
and a half before the base it started to narrow and narrowed down to about
half of it’s size. It was like a dildo that tapered on the end. Once I got it
inside me, it truly was one of the most filling and comfortable dicks I’d ever
sat on.
“Rumor has it slave you like to take a Master’s piss! Is that true?”
“Yes Master Dirk! It’s true! I’ve developed a taste for it!”
“You know I’m a virgin where that’s concerned slave?! What’er we gonna’ do
about it?” “With your permission Sir! I’ll run to the kitchen to get my Master
a couple of beers!” He started laughing and pulled me on top of his huge body
and I ended up laying out the entire length of him looking right into his
deep-set dark brown eyes!
“You gonna’ take my piss slave and claim that Cherry?”
“If there’s a God! I hope to Sir!” He laughed again. He was so hot I leaned
into him slowly and barely placed my lips on his and searched his mouth gently
for his tongue. He kept it still but connected with mine and let me gently
coax it into my mouth where I began to suck on it and slide down the inside
with my tongue until I felt his huge cock swelling beneath me. He pulled away
and took in a deep breath.
“Better get me them fucking Beers slave! This Old Man wants you to get his
piss Cherry tonight after I let you ride the ‘Wild Stallion’ I’m gonna’ make
you beg for it a little more. I love to see tears in a slave eyes ‘cause he
wants to feel that big thing soaking up there in his Butt!
“Would you like that slave, to feel that all the way up there? You ain’t
gonna’ mount this Old Hoss like you do your Master’s you know?!”
“I want to feel the Harley Master deep inside me Sir! Your right!!. It would
be an honor and a privilege to play catcher for you Sir! I will beg you so
sweetly it will make tears come to your eyes and you will beg me to stop!
You’ll tell me, ‘You can have it slave just don’t break my heart any more with
your sweet pleas!’
“Kid! You got a line of Shit! I’ll give you that! Go get them Beers!”
“Yes Master! And......thank you Master Dirk! I’m proud to be your slave this
weekend.” I turned and walked to the kitchen. Got two Beers from the fridge
and returned to the downstairs bedroom. Big Dirk was laying on his stomach
with he big hairy ass up on the bed. My tongue immediately got hard to say
nothing of it’s brother down south.
I popped the beer open and handed it to him. He drank about half and set it on
a coaster on the night stand.
“Master Dirk?!”
“Yes slave!”
“May this slave ask you to consider granting this unworthy slave a favor Sir?”
“You may ask slave and I will consider....!”
“Ever since I first met you Sir and watched you walk around in the buff by the
pool and Spa there’s been one thing on my mine!”
“And just what might that be slave?”
“To get my tongue as far up your ass as I could! To clean your ass hole for
you Master! You have the most edible looking ass!” He laughed.
“Zing, went the strings of my heart!” He laughed again, “Can you keep a
secret?”
“Of course Master Dirk! It’s the people I tell it too that can’t! Just
kidding! You know it will never go further than me!”
“I’m a virgin in that department too!” I was quiet for a minute not knowing
whether to pursue it further when he continued. “Allen and I have a pretty
straight forward no frills sexual thing. That’s not a complaint! I love Allen!
I fucking love his little cunt! It’s tighter than any woman’s cunt will ever
be. He ain’t likely to have no Kids so it ain’t gonna’ get stretched way out
of shape.”
“I’ll stay with Allen ‘till one of us or both kick the bucket! I don’t mess
around with any other Men or Women since Allen had his operation. I gave him
my word if he had the operation I would never go with another Woman as long as
we’re together. I meant it! I thought about it a couple of times but that
don’t count as going against my word.”
“I’ve been living in a world of Gay Men and heard a lot about what they do and
at first it sounded really sick. Drinking piss and sucking a Man’s ass! Then I
got to thinking one night what it might feel like to have some hot slave’s
tongue way up my Butt. I gotta’ admit it made my old dick hard thinking about
it!
“You wanna’ claim that Cherry too Son!”
“If you give me permission Sir! I would love to!” He grabbed his Beer off the
night stand, finished it and shoved two pillows under his belly until his ass
was sticking right in my face. He slowly parted his huge legs and in the dim
light I got the first look at my prize.
“I don’t know how clean I am Son!”
“Doesn’t matter Master! That’s what your slave is for!”
“Then you have my permission to clean me good slave!”
“Thank you Master Dirk! This is a dream come true!”
Those were the last words I uttered before my Feast! Before my tongue was lost
in his dark tunnel. Cleaned and sucked the outside until only my saliva was
left shining in the dim light from the bath room . I got more and more of him
to sheath my tongue in darkness and could taste his Maleness, his Manhood the
very essence of his soul. I could taste who this Big Man was!
He was going nuts moaning and pushing his ass back to meet my stabbing tongue.
Finally I grabbed his cheek of his ass and spread them to get more in to the
tunnel. I put my thumbs next to his sphincter and slowly pulled it apart as I
kept my tongue fucking ever deeper into his hole. He was pushing back more and
more when all of a sudden with my tongue way up his ass his sphincter muscle
tried to bite my tongue off!
He had shot his load! I was still way up there fucking him. He groaned and
pushed back and up and tried to bite it off again. I took advantage of his
relaxing afterward and shoved it in further. Once more he arched his back,
pushed back and clamped on my tongue as he squeezed the last volley out of his
big dick! Then he collapsed!
I made sweet love to his hole like it was another pair of lips and felt him
trying to kiss me back. He knew what I was communicating and wanted to
reciprocate. He made a pretty fair ass hole lover!
I crawled up beside him a lay my arm lightly across his back.
“You got my Cherry slave and you got it good!”
“May I have my prize Sir?”
“Your prize Son?” He was confused.
“Your come Sir ! May I have it while I clean you up!
“Sure Kid! But come up here and give me a kiss first!”
“But Sir I just...........”
“It was my fucking ass hole slave! Now follow your Master’s orders before he
turns you over his knee and spanks you!” I hesitated.
“Can I have both Sir?!” I asked innocently. He fell out laughing.
“God Beau! What Planet did you come from you crazy fucker!” I crawled into the
Big Bears furry arms and he kissed me and sucked my face until my fillings
were loose. Then he let me have my prize.
It was a Big Prize too. Big Man! Big load! It tasted great! Sweet and strong
like him! He watched intently as I licked his belly, his big dick, his balls
and his hairy upper thighs. He was so into the sensuality of the moment he got
a roaring hard on again.
I popped his second Beer open for him! He chug-a-luged about half of it and
sat it aside. “Crawl up here in my arms and let me hold you Sweetheart”.
“I’d give you a hundred dollars if you could talk Allen into doing that for
me.”
“He’s your slave! Just order him to do it!”
“I could, but if he really couldn’t get into it then I would feel bad ‘cause I
made him! And he’d be pissed or maybe hurt ‘cause I forced him too. He’s never
failed to obey an order I’ve given him. He’s forgetful sometime and I have to
punish him. I don’t let him ride the Wild Stallion for a week or more and he
goes nuts. The only way he can come is for me to fuck him! After a week or
more of no 3D he’s ready to tell me he’s sorry, he was wrong and it won’t
happen again.”
“3D Sir?”
“Yeah! Daddy Dirk Dick!” I started laughing and rolled on my back. I couldn’t
stop. He tickled me and made it worse. I finally calmed down and ask him,
“May I have your permission to feel him out Sir! Maybe he doesn’t think you
want to try that! You said yourself you had a pretty straight forward sexual
thing. He may be following your lead and has been like me, secretly lusting
after your big hairy hole.
“My God! You even make it sound appetizing!”
“T’is to me Master Dirk! T’is to me! It might be for him Sir! That’s a
hundred?! Is that right Sir?!”
“No! I’ll do better than that! If you can talk him into it! The day after you
will have TWO BIG BILLS in your hand! Or your Master’s hand!”
“So I have your permission to feel him out?”
“Absolutely Son!”
“I’m going to share with your Master that you got my Cherry big time!” He
smiled with pride.
“Thank you Master, I think!” We lay together for a while! Me in his big arms!
Him holding me tight to his big chest.
“That was some kind a’ good slave!” He breathed a deep sigh! I’m gonna’ have
to have that again before the weekend’s over. I’m gonna’ turn you over to your
Master tomorrow morning but I’m gonna’ tell him I want you back for a while
Sunday afternoon.
“I would be happy to serve you again Sir! I promise to do a better job then. I
can do better! I just didn’t know how into it you wanted me go.”
“I can’t imagine you doing a better job but if you say so I’ll believe it!”
“For your reward slave......?’
“Yes Sir!”
“I’m gonna’ let you ride the Wild Stallion without too much begging. But I
need to hear a little sincere pain in your voice to have that big thing way up
there.” That wouldn’t be to hard, I thought, my ass was already crying for it!
To me, his cock always looked like it should be up some Man’s ass! In a way my
ass was already crying for it. I felt my ass and felt the wet ness.
“Does my ass crying for it count Sir!”
“Your ass crying slave??” He looked puzzled. I moved my ass around for him to
feel. He put his finger on my hole and easily slipped it in. Three! Then four!
“Son of a bitch! Aww! You lubed your ass!”
“I didn’t Sir! I wouldn’t lie to you! Talk to my Master tomorrow! When my ass
is really hungry for a cock it starts dripping with boy Butt juices. I feel
like it’s crying to feel that big thing planted deep up my Butt!”
“I agree! Saddle up Cowboy!” He grabbed his Beer and downed the rest of it. I
ran to the kitchen to get two more and brought them back and opened one for
him.
“In case my Master wants some Beer while I’m riding his Stallion!”
“Very thoughtful slave! My dick’s hurting to get in that Butt slave!”
“May I Sir! I was inches away from kissing and lathering up the big thing.”
“Granted slave! But make it quick! I kissed it and slathered it up good. My
ass juices were running down my leg. I straddled him and placed the monster at
my rosebud to hold it in place. I reached back and spread my ass cheeks wide
with my hands and mounted the Wild Stallion in one swift stroke to the base.
It hit the base so hard I bounced!
He sucked in wind and said,
“Proved me wrong slave! Damn that was a Hell of a mount! Woah!! Now take my
pony for a ride Son!” I began and could tell from the first two or three
strokes Big Dirk was gonna’ be a push over! I wondered if I should play the,
build him up then stop, game! No! When I got to know him a little better. Some
how I felt he needed this for some reason and I wasn’t gonna’ let him down. I
had him off in no time! I remained on him milking small amounts out of him
from time to time. He didn’t say much! Just put his hands on my waist to hold
me.
Every now and then I’d feel him move with his hands to lift me and I would
respond.
Like he was jacking me off with his hands on my hips. We played that game for
quite some time. Then he ordered me off his cock! That’s when my tears started
big time! He pulled me close to him and held me in his arms and soothed me.
“What’s wrong slave? Did I hurt you?”
“You wanted to see pain for your dick Sir! It was painful for me to have to
give it back to you!” He didn’t want to laugh but he couldn’t help himself and
he started me laughing too! h Shit Beau! I haven’t laughed while having sex in
a long time. Allen is so serious about sex! He wants his Daddy ordering him
around! A little rough! A little mean! No laughing!
I have to be Strict no nonsense Master! Some times funny shit will happen! It
always does when two people are having sex! You gotta’ laugh! If I do it
breaks the role he needs. So I don’t do too much laughing. Sex should be
rough, a little mean, get it all over you, celebration of joy in two people
coming together to come together!
He had confided in me this night and I knew he wasn’t complaining so much as
just stating facts. He knew he had to give up some things to get the other
things that were more important to him. He was wiling to make those
sacrifices. He was growing up!
Big Dirk had been in therapy with Master Blanca-Lobos for around three years
at that time and had a pretty firm grip on who he was, where he was, and what
he wanted for the future.
I personally had a new found respect for the Man! I had some trepidation about
going with him because of the things I had heard about him. Maybe they were
true. Maybe they weren’t! All I knew, the Man in my arms was a gentle Man. He
had learned how to love! He had learned that life was give and take! He was
willing to pay the price for what he wanted! Nothing in life is free! Some
thing’s are a trade off! However, to trade, you must have something of value
to exchange! You may get what you want but you still paid for it!
We lay together for a while! The odors of a healthy Man and a healthy slave
were overpowering. Big Dirk had a strong clean Male musk odor a Man gets after
havingsweat a little from good hot sex. The pheromones are rampant! Especially
when mixed with all the other odors. We were bathing in it! He knew it too as
he looked down at me and smiled. “You smell good enough to eat slave!”
“Thank you Sir! I appreciate............” He had flipped me and I was on my
back with my cock down his throat sucking air into my lungs from the
unexpectedness of it and the feeling of that Big Man’s mouth and throat around
my dick. I was getting pretty hard and he didn’t stop. Now if he tells me he’s
a virgin after this It’s gonna’ be real hard for me not to laugh! I thought!
Big Dirk was giving me a Big Man Blow job and I was loving it. I warned him
that I was near! It only made him increase his speed.
“Please Master Dirk! You don’t want to take me! You don’t have to.......Oh
God! It’s too late!” I was shooting in his mouth and he was sucking it down.
He continued to suck me until he was satisfied he had gotten it all then threw
his huge body on top of mine and kissed me hard and deep. I didn’t know what
to think! He knew that I would go to my grave with that secret! It was then I
realized! It really was his first time playing catcher. Two Cherries popped up
on my slot machine! One more and I hit the fucking Jack pot!
He pulled away from my mouth and lay his big head next to mine on the bed. He
was still on top of me pinning me down.
“Wanna’ make it three Cherries tonight slave?”
“Are you kidding Master?? Fill ‘er up Sir!!”
He ordered me to the shower! He didn’t turn it on. I guess he though I was
gonna’ spill some and he was thoughtful enough to appreciate Master Earl’s
home.
“Master, I’m not gonna’ spill any! But I appreciate your concern!” He looked
puzzled.
He told me he really had to piss. I told him the drill and not to let go until
I squeezed his Butt. I took him like I did Master Jeb! I got to the last inch
and a half and could not get it in! I wanted it so bad he could tell! He
didn’t ask! He knew to place his hand behind my head and pulled me the rest of
the way on. My lips were touching his pubes.
I reached up behind him and placed my hands on his Butt. I could tell he had
to go big time. Then I squeezed and he let go a stream that I could feel hit
my belly like a fire hose. He was filling me up! He threw his head back and
water started to drip on my face. He was so relieve to let go his eyes were
tearing.
He continued to fill me without a stop! My stomach was really ballooned. I
looked pregnant. He was to fill me beyond pregnant. He finally stopped and
relaxed! I knew I could take the rest in my mouth and get a taste. I pulled
off to the head and sucked on it for more. He gave it to me!
His recycled Beer was different than Zack’s. It still had a lot of Beer flavor
and sugars to make it sweet. Perhaps his body had converted some of the
alcohol into sugar. Too much and it goes out through the urine. I gulped it
down not knowing whether he had a lot more for me or not. He gave me three
more big mouthfuls and I gulped them down like the thirsty slave I was. Damn I
was full! He looked at me and giggled.
“Let me feel the Baby!” He ordered. I turned my backside to him and pulled his
hands around and down. Placed them where he could lift up and feel the weight
of his piss in my gut. I place my hands underneath his and made him shake my
belly to hear it slosh around in side. He thought that was the funniest thing
he’d ever heard. He loved it and did it several times.
We showered together and he played this fantasy that I was his pregnant little
slave and he was taking care of me during my last couple of day pregnancy. He
never intimated that I was female. I was a pregnant Male slave!
He soaped up a wash cloth and cleaned me from head to toe sitting next to him
on the side of the tub. When he got to my belly he washed it ever so gently,
put his ear to it to listen, made it slosh again and laughed.
“Any day now Son! You’re gonna’ have my Baby! You scared boy!”
“A little Sir! But if you’re there in the delivery room to hold my hand I
won’t be!”
He ran his hand all over my belly gently washing it again!
“You’re so big you just might have twins!”
“I hope so Sir! Two Kids that are handsome and strong like their Dad! What
more could a slave ask Sir?” He stopped for a minute and shifted gears, leaned
close to my ear and whispered, “If you ever tell a soul about this you’re a
Dead Man!” Then he laughed and back he went into the fantasy.
He finally had enough. We finished showering and he gently toweled me off.
Then picked me up in his arms so carefully, carried me to the bedroom and
gently laid me out making sure I was comfortable. I assured him I was! A bit
bloated but that was to be expected this late in the term! He had this silly
little boy laugh when we were playing!
He really let it go and lay down beside me.
“You know it’s three o’clock! Will that go down by morning?”
“If it doesn’t my Master can tell at a glance what went on! Maybe it would be
good for Allen to see me this way! Give him some ideas about things?”
“You might be right slave! Let’s see what you look like in the morning.”
“Master? How did you know how to suck my dick to get me off!”
“Hell! I’ve had enough bad Blow Jobs in my day that I knew what I’d like done
to me and went from there! Was I alright slave!”
“ Better than alright Master! You were terrific!” He kissed me one last time
and held me in his arms. “Would you believe me if I told you I love you
slave!”
“I wouldn’t have to try too hard Master! Would you believe me if I told you I
have a new respect and love for you! I’ll always be there for you if you need
me!”
“Is tonight our secret Master?!”
“For now slave! We’ll see about later. I’m not as uptight about roles as I use
to be.”
“Now go to sleep Studdly! You gotta’ get some rest that Baby takes a lot out
of you!”
“Good night Daddy Dirk!”
“Good night slave!”
My water broke about two hours later and I had to piss like a Race Horse! I
headed to the bathroom and barely got there when my piss started flowing none
stop. My belly had almost all gone but all that recycled Beer had gone right
through me to my bladder. I pissed and pissed. How could that Man have that
big a bladder. Hell, Beau, he’s a big Man! I thought to myself. By the time I
finished, my belly was all but gone. I hoped he wouldn’t be disappointed!
Well, if he was, he can always fill me up again. I didn’t know how to tell him
I had a miscarriage and ......well, you make up the rest!
I went back to sleep and Master Dirk rolled over and threw his arm over me and
pulled me close to his big furry body. That Man gave off some body heat! I’d
want him next to me on a cold winter’s night in Juno. His warmth relaxed me
all over and I really slept well then. We didn’t wake up until nearly nine
o’clock. My Master let us sleep in! Big Dirk was bolt upright in bed and
looked at my belly. He seemed relieved that it had gone down. We showered
again and I sucked him off in the shower. My jaws were sore after that! I
helped him get dressed and he reinserted my Plug. My stomach had gone! You
couldn’t tell.
He took my leash and kissed me one last time and led me up the stairs. Master
Earl and Allen were busy in the kitchen cooking breakfast! Master Dirk took me
around to my Master and symbolically handed him my leash. My Master smiled and
thanked Master Dirk and did his slave perform well for you. Dirk raised an
eyebrow and smiled,
“He was fine Master Earl! You are going to be a lucky Man! I will talk to you
in private later Sir!” He said with a wink!
“Certainly Master Dirk! Glad too!” I pitched in and gave them a hand and we
had breakfast ready in no time. We ate on the patio! The sun was warm and the
day was not yet hot.
“I leave him with one small proviso Master Earl. I need to borrow him for
about and hour or two tomorrow afternoon late.”
“He’s your slave for the weekend Dirk! I’m just glad to get to see him!”
“We have some errands to run and we should be back early afternoon and he’s
yours from now ‘till tomorrow afternoon about four. That O.K.! We’d like to
come back and party with you guys tonight.”
“You know it’s alright! The door to the kitchen is always open! We’ll do
something for dinner. Now you guys don’t get food! We’ll take care of it
tonight! O.K.?”
“Sure Earl!” Dirk said with a smile.”We won’t have time to get food today any
way ‘cause I gotta’ meet a guy over to the Harley shop to take his bike in for
Monday. Then we got about five or six other stops to make. We’ll be happy to
leave it to you guys! Can we get anything?”
“No!” Said Master Earl emphatically. “Let me this time! We’ll have fun doing
it! Right Beaver!”
“Right Master!”
“Beaver?”Questioned Big Dirk
“Oh you haven’t heard the story about Little Beaver! We’ll tell you over
dinner! You guys go and get done what you need to do a come on back! If we’re
not here we’ll be right back! We may have a last minute run to the store or
something.”
Allen and Dirk left us alone to return later that afternoon. We were alone. I
got the idea Master Earl fucked his brains out last night so I knew he wasn’t
interested in sex. I really wasn’t either. He looked at me and smiled,
“So what do you think of Dirk now!”
“I have a deep respect for him and I love him! I know I keep saying that about
every Man in the Family but Master they’re hard not to love. I love them like
you love them! I care about them!”
“You don’t have to defend yourself Son! I know exactly what you’re talking
about! Dirk is a hard Man not to love! He’d give you the shirt off his back.
I’ve loved him and Allen for many years now and I’ve seen Dirk come a long
way! He’s become a fine Man over a period of about four years. He wasn’t
always this nice. He took some getting use to.
When they came to me about camping out over here I was thrilled. I didn’t know
whether I was going to see you this weekend. I invited Master Blanca-Lobos and
his slave Zane over for brunch and pool tomorrow afternoon and that’s all!
Now! You never know who’s going to drop by!
Look! We have all day to ourselves! What would you like to do with it!” Monty
had crawled up in my lap and was asleep. I thought that looked pretty good to
me.
“Is there anything around here you need to get done that I can give you a hand
with Master?”
“No! I can’t think of any thing! You want to cook tonight or maybe do ribs on
the grill?”
“That sound great to me! We could get some of that good potato salad at the
deli........”
We had our day planned ! It was a slow, laid back Silverlake summer’s day! We
went into the small shops on Silverlake Blvd. The shops on Hyperion. We bought
food at the huge Supermarket. We were in Master’s big four wheeling Ford
pickemup truck! He and I got a lot of looks from people in the stores. We just
ignored them.
Dirk and Allen returned and something was different. They were thicker than
thieves. All over each other! Little whispers! Giggles! Poking each other!
Dirk would tickle Allen until he was in tears! I’d never seen them this
playful.
“Oh! Their always like this after they spend a night with someone else. It
just seems to jump start them! Then Dirk fucks Allen for days! You can’t get
the smile off Allen’s face.”
“What went on last night? Every few minutes one or the other of you or both
would break up laughing! We wondered if you were telling each other jokes!”
“We had fun! Nothing out of the ordinary Master! Master Dirk was a gentleman!
Best of Master manners! He gained my respect last night big time! That’s one
Man I will never have a hard time kneeling before and paying homage to his
boots any time any where!”
“You know, that’s almost the same thing Wes had to say about him the last
night he spent with him! He and Wes got very close as Master/slave friends
like you’re becoming with Master Zack! Dirk became a confidant of Wes’s and to
this day will not tell me any thing they talked about. He tells me if anyone
could find a way to come back and kick his ass, Wes would! He believes that! I
think I agree with him!
We had a wonderful dinner of barbequed Pork spare ribs, a small salad, potato
salad, pinto beans and cold slaw. Great stuff! I ate too much!
We again ended up in the Spa and Allen and Dirk were in a world of their own.
Finally they excused themselves early to retire to the downstairs bedroom.
Dirk couldn’t wait to get into Allen! It was good to see! I had hoped there
wouldn’t be any hard feelings. On the contrary it made the both of them randy
as shoats.
My Master was laid back and in a peaceful relaxed mood. We had a couple drinks
and sat in the Spa for several hours. We got out every thirty minutes or so
and would jump in the pool. The warm water of the pool seemed icy compared to
the Spa. I was refreshing and several times we just sat in the shallow in of
the pool.
We quietly talked about many things. He told me he had hope again for a
future. He had lost sight of any happiness after Wes was killed and wasn’t
interested in sex or dating anyone until that day on Silverlake Blvd.
He told me he knew he’d see me again if he had to make up some lame excuse and
come by my apartment. “I wanted you from the moment I pulled you over and saw
you get off your bike. Then when you asked to clean my boots, I almost pissed
my pants. I wasn’t gonna’ let an opportunity like that go by! And here we are
almost three months later. Waiting for you to become my property!”
“Master, if by chance some other Master wins the bid and I have to be his
slave will you promise me something?”
“Depend on what it is slave!”
“Find yourself another slave as quickly as possible! I don’t think I could
stand to think you were not being served by a good slave.”
“I can’t make a promise like that! I don’t know exactly how I’d feel. But I
have to much time and love invested in you to lose that bid! Wes hasn’t
brought us this far to abandon us now! He is watching over us and he will make
it right!
**Part III~Brother Wolf**
Sunday morning was busy with preparations for Brunch. Allen and I had to Man
the kitchen and we had things underway. Each would look at the other, raise
our eyes to heaven, andsay, “Were’s the General when you need him?!” Allen no
sooner got that out when the door bell rang.” My Master was in that area and
went to the door. Who should it be but General Oscar, Billy and Master Bert!
God had heard our prayer!
After going through the greeting rituals and shedding of clothes General Oscar
and his staff, Billy, came and greeted us. Oscar had gotten into the fun of
being General of the kitchen and lined us up. He got a wooden spoon and stuck
it under his arm a la Patton.
“All right Troupes! Where are we so far in this battle?”
Allen got into the role fast, “Sir we’ve managed to get several things done in
preparation for the assault on the eggs Sir! Chopped onions! Minced parsley!
Two dozen eggs out of shells in mixing bowl Sir!”
“Fine report Private! Fine report! Gentlemen! This is our plan of
attack.........” And he would bark out assignments! It was great fun! We
laughed but Oscar laughed the most. It was his time to shine and he did so
brilliantly.
Master Blanca Lobos and Zane arrived on his new Harley. Nice bike! Factory
chopper! Stripped for speed! Captain America stripes on the fenders. Big Dirk
was the first to greet them in the Car Port! Threw his arms around Master
Blanca Lobos and bellowed, “Daddy Wolf! How the fuck are you!” “Fine Dirk!
Fine!” Then he hugged Zane and ushered them in.
Zane went through the greeting ritual with all the Masters and all the slaves
with Master Blanca Lobos. I showed Zane to the bedroom to undress and
complemented him and his Master on the new Bike.
“He just got it Friday and we haven’t been off it for more than two hours
since. One good thing! It really makes him horny! He hasn’t fucked me this
much since we first got together. I told him to buy two more!” We laughed at
his shared joke. Zane was unusually friendly and open. He usually was reserved
and quiet! Not shy! Just stuck pretty much with Master Blanca Lobos.
Brunch was served and everyone went to the picnic tables to eat. We put them
end to end and there was plenty of room for all. It was a nice treat to have
Master Bert, Oscar and Billy drop by. The food always tasted better when Oscar
was in charge. He just knew how to cook and did it well. Master Blanca Lobos
spoke, “Would the slaves present please just call me Master Wolf! Blanc Lobos
in Spanish is White Wolf! And all the Master just call me Woody!”
.After brunch the slaves cleaned everything and went back out to play. It was
a nice day and everyone was enjoying themselves. Everyone was finally in the
buff! In the pool or Spa. Several of the Masters moved one of the picnic
tables down to the pool area to sit around and drink. The conversations were
varied . Dirk , Zane, Billy and Allen were in the pool playing water Volley
Ball! More grab ass than game but they were having fun.
Master Burt asked Master Wolf, “How long have you known Dirk and Allen,
Woody!” “Gosh! About three or four years now! Allen works for me. He’s my
receptionist at my Office.”
“And you do Counseling? Therapy for Bikers?” Master Bert inquired innocently.
“It would seem that way Sir! Although I didn’t start out to make a Practice of
them alone. Over time, one referral led to another and here I am. I have one
client who is not a Biker and he’s thinking about buying one!” He laughed.
“What’s your background Woody?” Pursued Master Bert.
“I was a Social Worker for the County of Los Angeles for many years and they
had these work enrichment programs they sponsored. If you wanted to get a
Master’s in Social Welfare Degree, MSW, they worked out a program with
U.C.L.A.. A person could go to Night School for two years and their Field Work
experience would count as credit toward their Degree. The best part was the
County picked up the tab!”
“After I graduated someone in the Department thought it would be great fun to
appoint me as Official Sexual Reassignment Liaison between the Welfare
Department and the Local Medical Facilities that were performing these
operations. The people trying to obtain that operation had to go through a
certain amount of therapy and be approved before the Hospitals would do the
work. It was my job to coordinate all that. The county wanted me to work under
a Psychiatrist with these cases for a year and then I would be eligible to get
my license as a Psychotherapist to continue for the County. I was indentured
to them for a certain number of years for my education!”
“I was taking a few private patients after work and on weekends to try to
establish a Private Practice. Buy the time my indentured period was up I had
enough Patients to start a minimal Practice. I announced to the County my wish
to resign and they asked me not too. Told me I could go ahead with my Practice
if they could send all their Sexual Reassignment Applicants to me for Approval
or Denial. Sounded good to me! Sucking off Mother County’s tit while having my
own Private Practice?? Sweet! Tender!”
“It got to where I couldn’t juggle Patients on my own and needed a
receptionist. I put the word out in the Gay Community I was looking for a Gay
Man with some experience as a receptionist/secretary. I wanted someone who had
some interest in Bikes and Bikers ‘cause I had quite a few Gay Bikers that
were playing Master/slave that were coming to me.”
“I had about twenty people want to interview so I set aside three days and
made appointments for all of them to interview. All went well except on the
last day there was this very small petite woman tastefully dressed wanting to
apply for the job. I told her that all the appointments had been made but she
begged me to reconsider and at least interview her.”
“I though, ‘What the hell! If she wants to sit there and wait I’ll interview
her. I’ll just tell her no! So I agreed to interview her if she wanted to
wait. It might be sometime because I still had four to interview. She said she
would wait!”
“Everyone had left but her and I ushered her into my Office and sat her down.
I thought I would go through the motions of an interview. I asked about last
jobs and employers. She had a job with the County doing work for the same
department I had been in and I knew the job description of her work. It would
certainly work in well with me. Plus she had top notch referrals out the
ying/yang! But I wasn’t going to hire her! I wanted a Gay Man within the
Biker/Leather crowd. I began to explain to her why there had only been Men in
the room for interviews. I really didn’t think she would work out as a lot of
my clients were Bikers and could be rough edged sometime.”
She countered with, “Oh that’s O.K. my boy friend is a Biker! He’s a former
member of the ‘Satan’s Slaves’ Motorcycle Club!”
“Satan’s Slaves?! Motorcycle Club?!” I thought to myself , “They’re a
notorious gang of Outlaw Bikers! What’s wrong with this picture? This tiny
woman dressed in a nice pink two piece Jackie O suit with matching pink pill
box hat tastefully accessorized ??!!”
“Then I thought I’d hit her with the coup de grace, “I really wanted a Gay
Man!”
She smiled knowingly and replied, “Well my real name it Allen!”
“Blew me away! He looked so much like a woman! With out breathing I said,
“Your hired!!” I only allow him to dress in drag on Fridays, his Birthday, and
Halloween.”
“I met Dirk and we all became close friends. I fell in love with Allen.
Everyone that knows him falls in love with him. I couldn’t keep my hands off
of him. I never made sexual advances toward Allen. He was like a perfect
miniature toy He’s 'precious'. Not in the way you've heard it used! He simply
is a one of a kind person. He’s gentle, unassuming, thoughtful, wise, caring,
loving and a loyal friend!”
“He met Dirk at a Gay Drag Bar on Sunset Blvd in Silverlake on a Halloween
Night. The bar had a contest for Best Drag. Allen entered and won! Dirk was
there with several Straight Bikers that just wanted to have a hoot! They
weren’t out for mayhem. They were on their best behavior. Being gentlemen!
Dirk saw Allen and fell in love! Talk about love at first sight!”
“He had to have Allen in the worst way! Allen didn't lead him on. Told him he
was a Man in drag, that he was very much a Man, and didn't want him to be
mislead. Dirk said he didn't care he had never been with a Man but if Allen
would show him what to do he wanted him! He wasn’t going to take ‘no’ for an
answer! He went home with Allen that night and moved in with him the next
week! They had some pretty rough adjustment problems as you might imagine.
Dirk being straight and Allen being terminally Gay!”
“Shades of Billy Wilder’s Some Like It Hot! Joe E. Brown chases Jack Lemon all
through the movie. The last scene they're on Browns boat and he ask Lemon (in
drag) to marry him. "I can't marry you! " Lemon rips off his wig and says,"Oh,
for gosh shakes Osgood! I'm a man!" Brown looks at him and shrugs, "Nobody's
perfect!" End of film!”
“Anyway, Allen use to come to work wearing sun glasses and moving like he was
sore. I finally confronted him and he crawled up into my lap, cried and said,
‘Master Woody, Dirk beats me up!’ I try and try to be good but I sometime
forget what he wants and then he beats me up.”
“I was on a friendship basis with Dirk but never pushed him too far. I knew
better. He’s a huge man and I value my life! The last time Dirk beat Allen up
he was in the hospital for two days! Allen came right back to work. He was
staying with a friend and not going around Dirk. He was afraid for his life
and well he should have been. Dirk had a mean streak to him that the smallest
thing could set him off and he went bananas! Short fuse!”
“It was my habit to stop at my local Gay Bar on the way home from work on
Friday afternoons. I had a lot of Biker friends would stop in and we'd talk
and relax. Dirk got to be a regular. Not because he was Gay but he like me and
several of the other guys that didn’t threaten him. He felt relaxed around us.
He would be on his best behavior. He knew I wouldn’t tolerate mean spirited
people!”
“Sure enough that Friday afternoon in walks Big Dirk looking meaner that a
weeks old pile of cat shit! ‘Woody! I wanna' talk to you!’ He bought two
Beers, ‘Over here!’ He motioned to a table in the back. My friends were
watching in horror not knowing what was about to transpire. Neither did I for
that matter! Dirk slammed my beer down and flopped in the chair. I sat down
and thanked him for the Beer. He grunted! We sat there for the longest time.
He'd glance at me, take a hit of his beer then look away. Look at me again
then drink some more. Finally he barked at me, "You're supposed to be a damn
Therapist say something!"”
“I waited for a minute stretched out my legs and said, "Dirk! You're a
goddamned fool!" My friends gasped! You could hear a pin drop! He turned to me
slowly, raised one eyebrow, and gave me a look that choked off my oxygen
supply! I thought to myself, “Woody, you’re a dead Man!!” I truly thought I
was gonna' die! That minute! Right there! In a lousy Gay Bar!”
“He kept looking at me and his look slowly changed! His eyes started watering
and the next thing I knew I was holding that Huge Bear of a Man blubbering
bout Allen hating him. “I'm leaving! I'm afraid I'll kill him I love him so
much. I don't want to live without him. On and on and on...You're so goddamned
right Woody! I’m the biggest fool that walks this Earth! Oh God! Help me
Woody! I've lost the most precious thing I ever had in my life!”
"Seems to me you're telling the wrong Man, Dirk!" I told him.
"I can't find Allen! I've looked everywhere!"
"He's been with me every day at work this week!"
"I didn't think he'd go to work!"
"He loves you Dirk and you love him what's the big problem?"
"It's hard for me to think of myself as Gay!"
"Then don't! Just think of yourself as a straight Man having unusual sex!"
“I told Dirk I would help him but he had to agree to my rules and the
slightest infraction would cancel our agreement! He would be on his own! He
gave me his word. In fact I drew up a contract between us! We both signed it
and I gave him a copy! He had it spelled out in writing what the rules were so
he couldn’t fudge! I knew Dirk to be a Man of his word. His Dad had beat that
into him as a young boy and Dirk, ate, drank, and slept for the honor of his
word. Still does!”
“He agreed to see me for an hour, two times a week, after my work day and
Allen had been sent home. I wouldn't allow them to see each other for a month!
I had many sessions with Dirk that ran four to six hours of intense therapy.
He was slowly changing. Really changing! Not just playing at it! He wanted to
change because he wanted Allen and was willing to make the effort.”
“One of their major problems was, every now and then, Dirk had to prove to
himself he was still a Man! He would go out and pick up a hooker and fuck her.
He wouldn't take her home but Allen knew and would be devastated. Insecure,
that he was going to lose Dirk to a woman. It happens in Gay life!”
“Allen loved to ride the 'wild stallion' as he used to call Dirk's dong! Allen
moved in with me and Zane. Zane was born with both sex organs. A true
hermaphrodite who's family assigned him to be a Girl. Did away with the male
organs all together. He knew from an early age that he was more male than
female and refused to take the female hormone therapy at puberty! He didn't
want to be a woman. He ended up being a Gay man with a cunt. The Kid gave the
word "conundrum" new dimensions. He’s fairly well adjusted person despite what
he’s been through in life. I don’t know that I would be as well adjusted given
the same set of circumstances!”
I was originally told he’d had a sexual reassignment and found a sympathetic
Doctor who supplied him with male hormones. He had developed his body to the
'inth degree. He was competition body building material. I fell very much in
love with him and he became my slave.”
“About a year after we’d been together he felt so bad that he had lied to me
about himself he braved the possibility of losing me to tell me the truth. I
was somewhat taken aback but it didn't change my love for him!”
“I finally allowed Allen and Dirk to date! They could have one Saturday night
date twice a month. Allen counted the days. I didn't care where they went nor
what they did as long as Dirk had Allen back by midnight. He faithfully
followed my rules. Even called me Father Woody and Daddy Wolf! Imagine, that
big son of a bitch calling me Dad, what a hoot!” We all laughed.
“Dirk continued to improve and I raised their dating to every week. Allen
couldn't wait for Saturday night! Dirk got more mellow but still seemed to
have a hang up with wanting to fuck a cunt! I had also counseled Allen all
this time and he wanted to know if I might consider approving him for
reassignment surgery so he could have a cunt like Zane's. He and Zane became
very close and they shared everything. Still do!”
“About that same time Dirk was talking to me about Allen becoming his slave.
Master Jeb had a class starting in the fall and he wanted Allen to take it. He
was changing, why couldn't Allen make an effort. He was right!”
“I talked to Allen and he was all for it. So I began to allow Allen and Dirk
to spend weekends together. Still, Dirk had to have Allen back to my place by
9 PM Sundays. Never failed! Started calling me Warden Wolf!” He laughed.
“He was feeling stronger, better about himself and falling twice as much in
love with Allen as ever before. Allen worshiped the ground he walked on! Time
went by and Allen entered slave training and signed a contract with Dirk”
“I approved reassignment surgery for Allen with no hormone therapy and it was
done. The operation was more successful than anyone imagined and Dirk was in
heaven. Allen lead him around like a Big Bull with a ring through it's nose.
Everyone in the Family fell in love with the two of them. Dirk became known
and Ms. Allen’s boy Dirk!"
“Dirk and Allen could care less! They’re too much in love. Dirk has never
again laid a hand on Allen in anger. He punishes Allen from time to time. Just
withholds the ‘Wild Stallion’ for a week or more and it brings Allen to his
knees.”
“Their’s has became a model of Master/slave relationships. He won’t allow
anyone else to abuse their slave in front of him. Suggests they may want to
reconsider.” He laughed, “Yeah! Reconsider or die! Won’t let anyone outside
the Family use fowl language in front of his Little Darlin'!”
“ I still have weekly sessions with Dirk and Allen. I don’t think they really
need them now but they say they feel more comfortable meeting with me so we
do.”
“That’s a remarkable story Woody! Thanks for sharing it with us. Do you feel
you could be betraying Patient /Doctor confidentiality ?” Master Bert
questioned.
“If I was a certified Physician yes. Even though I’m not I maintain a high
level of privacy for all my Patients. In this case, Dirk and Allen have ask me
to tell their story any number of times at private gatherings so I doubt that
if you even mentioned it to them they would be the least upset. We can ask
them if you like?”
“Oh No! I didn’t mean to question your judgement. I just wondered how you
felt.. You’ve answered my question eloquently Sir! Thank you! I apologize if
my question was too bold. I meant no disrespect!”
“None taken Master Bert! Besides we’re all Family and it doesn’t hurt to know
about your Family. It can only make you love them more to know that they have
overcome adversity.”
“Amen to that!” Said Master Earl. We were rejoined by the pool players and
Dirk asked what we were talking about. Master Wolf told him he was telling the
story of Bad Ass Dirk and Allen. Dirk laughed. “I hope you left out the Bad
Ass part! I ain’t to proud of that!” “Well, you should be proud that you’ve
become someone else Dirk!” Master Wolf patted him on the back. We all agreed.
The Big Bear of a Man that was about to lead me away on my leash was not the
Man that Master Wolf described. He was a whole Man that was just beginning to
bloom in life as a good human being. The essence of what any Creator should
hope their child to become. A loving, caring, giving person. **A greater
reflection on the Master that had created him!**
We return to the scene of Friday night’s crime and I had him lay on his back
with his big hairy legs on my shoulders. I will spare you gentle readers this
indulgence because it was something only two people should share in the
privacy of their consensual bedroom. Needless to say Master Dirk and I became
bonded as Master/slave friends for life! Nothing will ever break that bond!
For those of you that have stronger stomachs for such and are not put off by
some of the finer points of Man sex use your imagination when I ask you if an
R.C. Cola and a Big Moon Pie means anything to you?
Two weekends later, at Master Zack’s, in the desert, Big Dirk handed the
Dungeon Master two brand new, crisp, one hundred dollar bills.
“What’s this for?” The Dungeon Master asked.
“It’s for your slave! For services rendered!” He smiled the silliest smile and
walked away.
**End Part XX~Bear Dance (Please see Dedication below)
Waddie Greywolf**
[email protected]
I thought it appropriate to Dedicate this part, Bear Dance, to my friend and
constant supporter Kuma Chan (Little Bear in Japanese.) .He is a fellow writer
and writes some of the most marvelous stories about Bears, Wolves, Tigers,
Pandas, Dogs in an anthropomorphic form. If you want a delightful evening’s
read try his stories at:
http://www.furnation.com/kuma-chan
*(that’s piking! as in piker!)
* * * |
No Balls and Loving It [S] | `
# No Balls and Loving It
By: ANONYMOUS (mail will go to the Eunuch Archive)
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[STRAIGHT] [TESTICLES] Other:
When a guy finds out his brother has no balls, his brother gets
him to cut his own off. Fun times are had by all.
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My brother had just recently moved back home from his second year of
college. I was still adjusting to having him home again for the
summer. The biggest problem we ran into was the sharing of our
bathroom. It seemed like every time he needed to use the bathroom, I
was in it, and vice-versa. My brother also had a tendency not to
lock the door, so every once and a while I would walk in on him,
almost always when he was just brushing his teeth or combing his
hair. Fortunately we got along fine, and never got into fights about
this. He was 21, and I was 18, so there was a bit of a difference
between the two of us.
My brother and me looked quite a bit alike. We were both around
5’11". We both had blonde hair and blue eyes. And we were both very
handsome. The biggest difference between us was that I was a thin
guy, while my brother was more of the lean muscular type. He worked
out a lot more than I did, and it showed.
On one typical day, I walked in on my brother in the bathroom again.
Only this time, he had just finished having a shower. I had seen my
brother naked many times before, but this time was different.
He was checking himself out in the mirror, flexing his muscles,
looking himself over. He also had an enormous erection. It looked to
be at least 9 ˝" long. I guess we were more similar than I thought.
Then I noticed a shocking thing.
"I’m sorry!" I blurted out. "I’m very sorry!" My brother apparently
hadn’t seen me open the door, but now he knew I was there. I quickly
slammed the door shut and went to my room. I couldn’t believe what I
had just seen.
My brother had no balls!
I had seen him naked before, and he had a beautiful set of great big
balls. I mean, a pony would have been proud of those babies. But
they were gone. He didn’t have a big, full sac dangling from his
penis. I didn’t know what to make of all this. I was just going to
ignore I and pretend I didn’t see anything. That would be the best
approach.
I was wearing only a bathrobe, so I took it off and looked at my own
genitals. I too had a big, beautiful set of balls. Maybe not quite
as big as what my bother had, but still enough to make any horse
proud. I held them, thinking what it would be like to lose them. I
couldn’t imagine it, being so attached to them.
Just then, my brother cam into my room. He shut the door behind him.
He stood there, damp, wearing only a towel. The water glistened on
his amazingly chiseled body. He was stunningly gorgeous. He looked
the way I wanted to look. I forgot to do back up my bathrobe.
"So, I take it you saw?" he asked.
"Saw what?" I replied, trying, not very well, to hide the
nervousness in my voice.
"This." my brother dropped the towel to the floor. There was his
penis, limp now, but still and impressive 6" long. And that was all
that was hanging from his crotch. He was completely ball-less. No
sign of his big nuts anywhere. "So, I bet your curious."
"Curious about what?" I asked.
"Curious as to where my big hairy balls went to. You’ve seen me
naked before, and I had an impressive set before. Kind of like the
ones you’re holding now." I forgot that I was holding mine, and
turned beat red..
"So, what happened?" I asked. He had my curiosity peaked.
"It’s a bit of a long story. Mind if I sit down?"
"Not at all." So there were the two of us, sitting naked on my bed.
My with balls, my brother without.
"It all started about three years ago. I was in my last year of high
school, and my sex drive was in overdrive. I was doing just about
any girl I could. And when you look like me, it’s not hard to get
any girl, as I’m sure you know. Well, one of my many conquests came
up to me and told me some bad news. There was a chance she was
pregnant. .She wasn’t positive, but she was positive that if she
was, it would be mine. I panicked. This could ruin my life. I didn’t
want to be a father, at least not then. Luckily it was a false
alarm, but it scared the shit out of me. I was super cautious from
then on, but my sex drive remained the same. Then, during my first
year of college, it happened again. Another pregnancy scare.
Luckily, that’s all it was. But now I was terrified. I couldn’t
control my sex drive, but I didn’t want to impregnate a girl. But
then an opportunity presented itself.
This year I was sharing an apartment with two gay medical students.
Nice guys they were. Well, one night we were sitting around having a
few drinks, along with my two best friends, when we began discussing
things. I brought up the topic of my whole sex drive problem. They
told me of one sure way that I could curb the problem, yet still
keep my full sex drive. They at first suggested a vasectomy, but
then there’s always the risk that the operation could heel itself.
Then the one thought of this plan.
I could have my balls cut off. I could freeze a few sperm samples in
case I ever did decide to father a few children. And I would have a
testosterone shot once a month, and take a testosterone pill every
week to keep my normal and healthy.
Not only was I intrigued, so were my friends. It seems that my
friends also had quite the sex drives and the same fears as me. My
roommates said that they would be able to get the appropriate
supplies from the school, and they could perform the operation right
in the apartment.
Me and my friends thought about it for a week, then we decided. All
three of us were going to do it. I informed my roommates and they
agreed. We went to a local sperm bank and had ten samples frozen
each, so we could still be fathers. We then went to my place and had
everything set up.
All three of us striped naked and shaved off all our pubic hair.
Except for my one friend who kept his pubes shaved anyway. My
roommates were both ready. They were also thrilled at the idea of
helping three gorgeous guys castrate themselves. But we had one more
thing we wanted to do. Each of us wanted to have one more final
ejaculation as full men. Things got a little carried away, and it
ended up with the tree of us sucking each other off. That was my
first, and only, gay experience.
Me and my friends decided that we wanted to do the actual cutting
off of our balls ourselves. We were instructed to tie off the top of
our sacs, and then tie off just below that. We did.
I was the first to go. I picked up a large knife my roommates had
sterilized for us. I laid it against my sac and my dick was
instantly erect. I then began slicing. I’ve never felt such pain in
my life. It was excruciating and erotic all at the same time. Blood
trickled down my sac a little. One of my friends looked like he was
going to throw up. Before I knew it, I had cut through my sac
completely. I held it up to look at, and had the most intense orgasm
of my life. I’ve never cum like that before or since. Then, each of
my friends proceeded to do the same.
So, there we were, three guys holding our severed balls. It was the
most bizarrely sexual thing I’ve ever seen. Luckily, we taped the
whole thing. I’ll show it to you later if you want. So, my roommates
fixed us up and gave each of us our first injection of testosterone.
That’s how I lost my nuts."
"So," I began "I bet your sex life has diminished since?"
"Not at all! I’ve had more sex now then ever. We’re somewhat legends
on campus. Women apparently love to do it with a guy who has
absolutely no chance of impregnating her. Although, my one friend
has gotten the most sex. He admitted that he was bi-sexual before we
did this, and he’s had piles of sex apparently. It’s great now.
There’s no fear of ever impregnating a girl ever. It very relaxing
and stressless."
"So, that’s why you have no balls? You were afraid of impregnating a
girl by accident?" I was actually impressed with my brother. This
was a very clever thing to do. "What did you do with your balls
after?"
"I had them preserved specially, and mounted on a little trophy
plaque. I’ll show it to you."
We headed, both still naked, to my brothers room. He dug around his
closet and pulled out a box. He opened it and pulled out what looked
like a display plaque, the kind you would mount a fish on. He turned
it around to show me.
There were his nuts, in perfect looking condition. They looked as if
you could still use them. I got a huge erection from this, which my
brother noticed.
"You know," he said "I wish I had thought of this when I was your
age. You wouldn’t believe how great it is not to have balls. No
worrying about getting hit in the nuts in a fight, no getting them
caught between your thighs when exercising, and no chance of
impregnating a woman. I’ve never enjoyed my body more then having no
balls to worry about."
"I want to cut my balls off!" I blurted out, before even realizing
what I had said.
"What?" asked my brother.
"I want to have my balls cut off." I repeated. Now not only did I
have an enormous erection, so did my brother. Then, before either of
us knew what was happening, we were laying on his bed, sucking each
other off. It was amazingly erotic, if not totally sick.
My brother got in contact with his roommates. We arranged it all,
and I had my balls cut off. I almost passed out from the pain when I
chopped them off, but it was all worth it. My parents don’t know
about either me or my brother.
I remember standing in my bedroom, naked and a little afraid. I
shaved off all my pubes, and tied up my sac as instructed. I took
the knife and began cutting. As soon as I made my first slice, I
came. It was amazingly powerful, and painful at the same time. I
came again when I got halfway through. It was amazing, feeling my
balls slowly separate from my body. I’ve never felt anything like
it. My brother drooped his pants and pulled out his erect penis when
watching me. He came when I got halfway through too. I was almost
finished. I could feel my sac almost separating from my body. I came
just as I made the final cut, as did my brother. I then held up my
balls. Once again, I had a powerful orgasm and came again. And once
again, so did my brother.
I was then fixed up by my brothers roommates. I too had my balls
fixed up and mounted on a plaque, like my brothers. For the first
week I panicked about what I had done, and I got out my stuffed
balls and touched them almost every day. But then that passed and I
was thrilled with what I had done.
We watched the video of my brother and his friends undergoing their
castration, and it was amazing. I got to see my brother chop of his
own balls. That led to another amazing session of me and my brother
having sex together. We’ve done it frequently now, but we keep it
our little secret. Neither one of us is gay, but this is our own,
erotic little indulgence.
Since having my balls off, my sex life has exploded. I’ve had sex
with more women then I can remember. I’ve even done it with my
brothers bi-sexual friend, but we’ve kept that out little secret. I
have now left home for college, and display my balls proudly above
the head of my bed. My roommates think it’s almost sick, but they
also admit they’re thinking about doing the same.
I think every guy should cut their balls off. It’s one of the most
amazing things you can do.
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Gelding The Boy-Herd | GAY, TESTICLES, MINOR | A Farmer grows boys for sale as geldings. He and his son cut them. | By The author of Cut Boy, SSS Research Unit and the Byzantium Stories.
I buy boys in at around twelve years of age and sell them off when
they are thirteen as geldings. Its a profitable farm business and I
cannot complain about the rewards. When I take the geldings into
market, I buy a replacement herd of twelve year olds. As soon as they
are trucked in I brand them and give them the sustained release
hormone shots that begin to accelerate their growth.
My son, Tommy, and I hustle them down the race from the truck with
prods. Usually the trip has made them docile but sometimes you get
one or two who won't move. A quick jolt from the prod usually moves
them on into the holding pens. I feed and water them there and
prepare for the branding and the hormone shots. We herd them up a
race and then, with the aid of gates, we get them into the branding
position. It is at the end of a race and we close a gate onto them so
they are pressed between two gates. The back gate has been designed
to expose their butt area. I'm on one side and Tommy is on the other.
The heated branding iron is right beside me. I press the iron onto
their left flank, in accordance with the State Directives. It is
the 'G' brand for 'gelding'. They holler and shout a lot as I hold
the red hot band onto the pale skin of their left buttock, but I do
it quickly and efficiently. There is no blurring of my brands. Then
when I have finished Tommy jabs there right buttock with the syringe
and injects them with a sustained-release growth mix.
Over the next year we keep them penned. From young hairless twelve
year olds they grow fairly fast with the aid of good feed and the
hormones in their systems. Within a month they are all growing hair
around their cocks and balls and you can almost see them becoming
taller and filling out. At six months I give them all a health check
and circumcise them. I keep a good farm and its not often I have to
put a boy down for ill-health. To inspect them, we get each of them
into the same race as they were branded. They remember the pain of
their branding and Tommy has to use the electro-prod a bit to get
them in place. Its not over then. They tend to fight and struggle
and I have to check their mouths and teeth, all their glands and
their cocks and balls. By now each of them has a patch of pubic hair
and their cocks are beginning to lengthen. I weigh each of their
balls in my hand. In spite of modern breeding techniques there is
still a lot of variation here, in both cock size and ball-weight.
Some have long thick cocks and others have smaller ones. Some can
have heavy balls even at that age while others are still fairly
light. Then I circumcise them. I find its neater and cleaner to do
so. There are some farmers who sell their boys uncircumcised and
while there is a market for boys who haven't had their foreskins
cut, I don't believe its a growing one.
Its a fairly simple procedure. Tommy and I do it together. Tommy
reaches down and holds their cocks. Then with the other hand he pulls
the foreskin out over their glans, as far as he can get it. I have
the electro-shears in one hand. They are well designed and enable the
wound to be cauterised as I am cutting. Its just a simple matter of
putting the shears over the foreskin and snipping. As soon as he sees
the shears placed over his stretched out foreskin, the boy usually
begin to fight and struggle. But as I said, its a quick process and
Tommy usually keeps his grip. I just snip the shears and the booys
screams and the foreskin falls onto the ground. There is a little
smell of burning skin but you get used to it. By the time we are
finished the ground is littered with their foreskins and the boys are
back in their pen. They whimper a bit for the next couple of days and
they tend to hold their cocks a lot but, as I said, its an easy
process and I believe it prevents disease and cleanliness.
Some farmers periodically check their boys for semen-production. My
next door neighbour, Bill, is one who does so every month. I have
been over at his farm when he has done it. The boys are all lined up
in the races with their cocks sticking out in front of them because
they know what is to occur. Then he gets a test-tube over their cocks
and inserts an ejaculator into their ass and presses the trigger. I
don't believe the lab analysis of the samples tells us anything more
about the health of his boys than does my own physical examination.
Its just wasted effort as far as I'm concerned.
I always geld my boys in midsummer. Their balls hang better in the
heat at that time of year. I also believe the market is generally
better then, and I get stronger prices at auction. The gelding floor
is right next to the holding pens. There are twenty concrete blocks,
a foot and a half long, a foot wide and two feet high. Set into the
floor are four shackles with tie-thongs attached. We have to take
each boy from the race physically and haul him to the block. They are
unused to being held and they usually struggle and fight a lot. We
put them over the block so it is directly under their chest area then
Tommy sits on top of them, holding them there while I tie each of
their limbs. We have the shackles positioned right so their legs are
wide spread, exposing their ass and their hanging balls. It takes
some effort to get all twenty of them positioned and in the heat of
summer in can be a sweaty business. Eventually though they are all
lined up there, on the blocks, legs pulled apart, the 'G' brand
clearly visible on their butts. I don't use gags and so the hollering
from the boys can get a bit loud sometimes.
Then I go along the line with the elastrator. Their are a number of
differing schools of gelding. I prefer to elastrate them then cut off
their balls and the sac entirely. It looks neater and I believe
buyers appreciate this. Bill, my next door neighbour, slits the
scrotum and takes out each ball. To me this is a process that is time-
wasteful. I have yet to see the prices he gets for his boys to equal
my own. I elastrate them first to effectively cut off the blood flow.
Its just a matter of going along the row, positioning the elastrator
up over their balls and pushing it right to the top where the sac
joins the body. Then I grab a hold of their balls and pull them down
hard to their fullest stretch and release the elastrator trigger so
the orange ring tightens suddenly over them. This increases the
volume of their yelling but after so many years in the business I
almost don't hear it. Once each of the twenty boys have that orange
ring around their balls then Tommy and I get down to the real
business at hand.
Tommy mans the ejaculator, while I use the gelding knife. I prefer
the knife because I can get it to the degree of sharpness that you
need and because of the elastrator bands there is no need to worry
about cauterisation. Tommy stands to the right and dips the
ejaculator head into a small bucket of lubricant and then he forces
the ejaculator up the asses of the boys. Most of them now have some
hair around their hole. Tommy uses one hand to spread the boy's butt
a little to further expose his anus and then he positions the
ejaculator head and begins to force it in. They hate this and each of
them, fired up by the pain of the elastrator band around their balls,
fights against it. Our ejaculator is also an older, bulkier model
than the ones on the market now and sometimes Tommy really has to use
some pressure to get it up there. I have taught him the technique of
putting it in a bit, then withdrawing it before pushing it in
further, but Tommy sometimes loses his temper with the boy and its
just a matter of brute force to get it in place. Once the ejaculator
is positioned right, he gives the boy a burst. Usually with the force
of the ejaculator's entry and the pain of the elastrator band around
his balls, the boy's cock is fairly hard. I pull down on the boys
balls in order to point the boy's cock at the ground. When Tommy
pulls the trigger I can then see them spurt onto the concrete floor.
We rest for around thirty seconds before Tommy gives them another
burst in order to make sure they are totally empty. The first
ejaculate is usually a spoonful of thick semen, the second is more
watery. On occasion with some boys we'll give them a third shot
because they seem to need it, but usually two bursts of the
ejaculator is enough to empty them out. Then Tommy pulls out the
ejaculator from the boy's ass and I grab a hold of his balls with my
left hand and carefully cut through the sac with my knife. Its
tougher than it looks and it requires a bit of force to cut the tubes
and the skin. You should hear the boys screaming when its done.
Anyone would think they were being slaughtered. Anyway I drop the
balls on the floor where Tommy will sluice them away with a high
pressure house when we wash down the pen. I'll say one thing, gelding
them usually shuts the boy up after the scream he gives when he's
cut. They usually stop yelling then and only moan and whimper a bit.
The boys that are positioned and waiting have seen this first one
done and they try and buck and escape but the tie-thongs are tight so
it is a useless effort. Its simply a matter of us moving down the row
from one boy to the next. Tommy gets the ejaculator in their ass,
pulls the trigger, then I Cut them. You get a rhythm up and going.
After we have done three or four, Tommy, who never could keep his
cock in his pants, asks me if he could fuck the next one. I let him,
because at that age getting fired up means that he is going to lose
the steady hand he needs with the ejaculator. He stands behind the
next boy in line, unbuttons his jeans and pulls out his cock. Its a
good size, big and thick, just like my own. He dips his hand in the
bucket of lube and smears himself. Then he sticks a finger full on
the boy's anus and works it in. I usually take the moment to have a
cigarette. Sometimes, watching him, he has as much trouble getting
his cock up into the boy as he has getting the ejaculator into the
same place. Then he gives the boy a good pounding. At the same age I
probably would have come within a couple of strokes but Tommy seems
to have more control than I had. I can remember fucking a boy when my
own father and I were gelding them and just barely getting in before
I squirted. Tommy just works away there to the yelling and the
grunting of the boy he's fucking until finally I can see that he is
really holding back. Then, with relief, he lets himself spurt into
the boy's ass. He takes a moment break and then we cut the boy he has
just fucked. I'll say one thing, that old ejaculator seems to go in
their asses easier after he has reamed them out.
After we finished the first twenty, we re-pen them and get the next
twenty out. Gelding the whole herd takes the whole afternoon, and I
can tell you, we have really earned that can of beer at the end of
the day. The boys are quite now, all lying in their pens with their
legs apart. Some of them are still whimpering but mostly they have
quieted down. The orange elastrator band will fall off in about a
week and I usually take them to market and sell them around 14 days
later, buying the next lot of twelve year olds in and then the whole
thing starts over again. |
Cock waged on roulette | STRAIGHT, PENECTOMY | I posted this before under 'Martin' but I wanted it attributed to my other name 'Hughexperience'.5 couples meet to play a game of roulette with a difference. | Jackie wasn't quite sure how it had come to this. She was looking at a ring of
5 guys sat on high stools facing in towards each other. The men were naked and
their hard cocks were attached (by a small leather strap) to thick wooden
'shelves' that were securely built onto the front of the stools. The stools
themselves were clasped firmly to the floor. There was a certain sexual
tension in the air. One of the men was Jackie's husband Darren.
Two women had bought a house in the road and Amy and Peter, Jackie and
Darrens' friends, were the first to comment that they were sure they were
lesbians. Not long after the invite had come for the house party and that is
how 5 couples from the street had ended up there tonight.
Right from the start the two women, Carol and Julie, had not hidden that they
were in a relationship. As the wine flowed the conversation had become more
and more sexual but there was something about that night and no one had tried
to back out. The men were interested as Carol and Julie were not shy about
telling something of their love life and the women were interested as they
gave their opinion about how men were wimps and women were the real dominant
humans. How it had ever got to where they were now, Jackie was unsure but here
they were, the 5 naked husbands waiting to prove they weren't wimps.
It was a simple proposition from Carol, "prove you are not wimps by betting
your cock on a spin of roulette". 'How do you mean', the room had seemed to
ask together. Carol went on to explain the circle of stools and her position
in the middle and that she would be spun and that the cock she finished up
facing would be hurt. The couples looked at each other, their was shock but
also fascination. "In what way hurt?", asked Sandra, another wife. "The
winner, or maybe you feel loser", said Julie, "Shall accept a nail hammered
through their penis by Carol". You could have heard a nail drop!
Now the men were in an awkward position. They had argued they were not wimps
but to back out now, with only a 1 in 5 chance of being hurt, would prove they
were weak. There was some discussion between the couples and some nodding and
smiling from the wives. Jackie saw Sandra poke her husband Dave in the ribs
and with a surprisingly strong voice he said, "I'm up for it"; "Looks like you
are!", said Amy and everyone giggled as they saw what she had noticed, the
strong bulge in the front of Dave's pants. All men had then agreed to take
part and as the wives stipped them, Carol and Julie disappeared.
On their return, the women looked stunning. Both Carol and Julie had changed
into dominatrix outfits and Jackie smiled as she saw Darren's cock spring to
attention. Carol and Julie began ordering the men around, getting them to
fetch the stools and Carol's swivelling leather office chair, as the wives
chatted excitedly. All was ready and the men sat and Julie instructed the
wives to secure their cocks in the leather straps. None needed help to get
erect, they were all hard as anything.
Carol sat and Julie returned from the kitchen with a tray, on which was a big
hammer and a shiny new 6 inch nail. She made a play of a big entrance and the
wives joined in with clapping. Jackie looked at the circle of men and was
excited to see the five hard cocks pointing at Carol and found herself
wondering which was going to get it and how the men must be feeling and how
she'd feel if it was Darren. He was a bit rounded these days but Darren still
sported a fat 8 incher and Jackie found herself imagining it with a nail
through it.
Julie stepped into the ring. Carol looked at each of the men and said, "Are
you ready you male fuckers?", Jackie felt it was denial that they all nodded
and smiled. Julie looked at the women and they began a "woooooo Wooooooooo"
noise and when the sound had built up sufficiently, she span Carol in the
chair. The women were mesmerised as Carol span. Jackie couldn't help but feel
herself between her legs as the expectation was incredible....the chair
slowed.....and it stopped and Carol was facing....Peter.
"Oh", Jackie heard Amy say almost involuntarily and as her hand went to her
mouth she smiled and the other wives patted her on the back. Peter looked
surprised but that was it, just a surprised looking man with no real emotion.
"Oh Dave!", exclaimed Sandra, looking a little embarrased and the wives all
looked and giggled as they saw he had ejaculated at the relief of it not being
him.
Julie took the tray and leaning through the men offered it to Carol, who
standing up took the hammer and nail. Looking Peter in the eye with an intense
stare she demanded, "Name", "P...P...Peter", managed Peter. With real venom
Carol sneered," I'm going to nail your cock Peter" and with that she put the
tip of the nail about two thirds of the way up Peter's thick, veiny and very
hard cock.
Jackie wasn't sure when she began masturbating but she noticed all the wives
were now frantically rubbing their pussies, it looked beautiful. "Count me in
ladies", commanded Carol, "10...9...", at 8 Amy looked at her friends and
smiled to them and joined in the countdown with a strong voice, "8...7...",
all the ladies joined in, "6...5...". Sweat was running off Peter's brow and
his chest heaved but some how Jackie suspected that he kind of wanted it too.
"4...3...", "Good luck lover", shouted Amy, looking at Peter but giggling to
her friends.
Carol gripped the handle of the hammer tight and began to raise it; Peter
swallowed, Jackie began to feel the beginnings of her orgasm and she wasn't
the only one. "2...1....", Jackie wasn't quite sure what she heard then as all
the women seemed to say either 'oh' or 'go' or just kind of shout and she
watched as almost in slow motion, the hammer fell and drove the nail right
through Peter's cock and thudded into the wooden block below.
It seemed to start from outside the room but Jackie heard a noise that got
louder and louder and then realised Peter was letting out the most incredible
primeval scream, his nailed cock shot a massive spurt of cum out into the
room. Jackie saw Carol snarl and say, "Yea, take it", as she hammered the nail
through with venom. But it was Amy, Amy that caught Jackie's eye because as
Peter was letting out his scream and she staring at his cock, she actually
jumped a few inches into the air with joy, a beautiful smile on her face and
as she landed shook uncontrollably as her pistoning hand brought her to the
most intense orgasm she had ever had.
* * * |
Soccer Team | PENECTOMY | I bought FIFA 2001 for my PS2 and it got me thinking... | ` I've played soccer all my life, and getting an offer to join the third best
team in the world blew me away. I had just finished my sophomore year of
college, and here a British team was offering me, an American, the chance to
join their team. `
I flew out over the summer and they put me through hell for two weeks. There
were fourteen candidates, and as the days went on there were less and less of
us as the others were weeded out over the period. Only three spots were open,
and I was overjoyed to be the first pick.
They gave me a few days at home to finish out things there, and then I was on
a plane back to England to practice. The other players put the three of us
through hell that first week - after our first day of practice they held the
three of us down and shaved our heads bald. We had to fetch them beer every
time we went out drinking (which was nearly every night), do all the laundry,
some of the cooking. They wouldn't even let us shower in the same room as them
after practice, instead making us use this tiny little room and locker room so
small that while we were in the shower me and the other two guys were
constantly rubbing asses. That part wasn't too bad, admittedly...it kinda
turned me on, and I wasn't the only one. We jacked off together in there all
the time but never went any further.
As the months passed the hazing get less extreme, though. It was all good-
natured anyway, they were just screwing with us, not trying to piss us off or
anything. We spend all our time together on and off the field, and the
practices were grueling. The only day we got off practice was Sunday, which
was recovery day from getting as piss drunk as we did every Saturday night. To
be honest, the drinking regimen was harder than the soccer practice.
The more I got to know my teammates the more I felt like I was at home. The
guys became more and more like family to me - so much that I didn't really
even think much about my parents or my friends at home anymore unless they
called or wrote me. I liked it so much I wanted to stay here forever - I
didn't ever want to get out of touch with them.
By the end of the summer I felt like I'd known all these people my whole life,
and I really felt like I'd do anything for them. We'd integrated into the team
well, and except for having to shower in that little room all the time the
only hazing they still did was holding us down every once in awhile and
shaving our heads.
I guess that was why at the end of the summer, after a particularly drunken
night out, it wasn't that surprising when they brought the clippers out again.
Two of the guys held me down and another pulled my shorts and shoes off, and
then my pants. I was too drunk to do anything about it; I was seeing triple by
that point and only vaguely aware of what was going on. In my haze I noticed
they had the other guys stripped too and just laughed as they shaved my head
bald. This time they went further, though, shaving my chest, stomach, arms,
legs, and finally pubes and ass.
All that manhandling gave me a pretty big boner. I hadn't been laid since I
got there, and the only sexual release I'd had was jacking off in the showers
or the semi-sexual feeling when I scored a tough goal. When they flipped me
back over my cock was laying flat against my belly, rock hard, and the guys
just laughed.
I felt someone put something cold in my hand and move it toward my belly. I
looked down a few times and finally managed to figure out that it was a knife!
"What the hell?" I let out.
"It's time you finally became a full member of the team, bucko," one of them
said. I couldn't even tell who it was, I was so far gone. "Time for you to cut
your pipe off."
The three guys near me dropped their shorts and knelt down around me. One of
them, Jack, I think, took my hand and held it to his crotch. His balls were
there and all but there was absolutely nothing above it - no stub, no hole,
just a little scar. I couldn't see it well because everything was so fuzzy.
The others had me feel them up too, and it was all real. Not one of them had a
dick. "Why..do you..."
"We all do, mate," Mikey said. "You go aroun' fucking every girl around, you
don't have the fire in ye when ya play the game. You cut your cock off, all ye
can do is play and play hard."
"But..." A hand went over my mouth.
"No 'buts', bucko. All of us did it, it's what makes us so good. Ye can be a
team player and do it fer the team, or ye can be any other bloke on the
street. Ye want to be on the team, yer cock has got to go." He took my hand
and moved it so the knife pressed against the base of my cock.
"Cut it or go back to America, boy." I didn't want to go back. These guys had
become my friends, my family, my life...I didn't know what the hell I'd do if
I wasn't with them. The only future I could see was with the team, and if my
penis was all that stood in the way...so be it.
"Do it, man," somebody said.
"Cut it off!"
I grabbed the end of my cock and held it in the air, then held the knife
against it all the way at the base. They started chanting my name. This was
where I wanted to be, where I belonged. These guys were my family. My dick
kept me from being one of them, and at that moment, staring drunkenly at my
cock with the all the dickless guys standing around me, I suddenly hated it.
You keep me from being one of them, I thought, and with that, I pulled the
knife.
It came off cleanly, and I fell back, my cock still in my hand. After that I
don't remember a whole lot. I think I passed out pretty fast from the pain and
the alcohol, but when I woke up I had the worst hangover ever. I just lay
there with my eyes closed in bed and wished the headache would go away.
I found out later they'd had me on painkillers for three days, and when I
finally got up I was sore as hell. My whole body was stubbly and aching and my
crotch hurt like hell. I wasn't really sure the whole thing had happened, and
freaked out a little when I first realized it had, but never did I think I did
the wrong thing. They told me that right after I passed out the team doc, a
loyal guy who knew what went on, fixed up my crotch the way it was supposed to
be - they ran a new pisshole out beneath my balls and sealed off where my cock
was after removing all the internal parts, so all I had was a little scar.
They made us sit out for two weeks while we healed, but after we started
playing again it didn't take long to get back up to full speed. Running for
the first time sure felt weird, with my balls bouncing a little inside my jock
but no dick, and pissing sitting down took a little while to get used to.
The other thing that took no time at all was for me to get sexually
frustrated. Even while I was healing I was dying to jack off or something.
Frankly, if somebody had offered to fuck me up the ass I probably would have
agreed to it. I didn't fully understand how much of a difference it made in my
game until the first one I could really play in again.
I was so pissed off and pumped that when I went in I was about ready to kill
the other team. I played harder then I ever had in my entire life, and when I
managed to break a 1-1 tie with a last minute goal, I kid you not, came in my
jock. The other guys laughed when we got back into the locker room and I took
off my underwear, all sticky with cum. "That's the only way a player on this
team gets to blow," they said.
* * * |
Thecia and the Stripper | GAY, TESTICLES, Female domination | Thecia met a stripper at a bridal shower, and was so impressed with his equipment, invited him to perform at one of her SPECIAL parties. It would be his last performance as an intact man. | Hi. My name is Thecia, and I'm a cutter in my early [I emphasize EARLY]
thirties.
I had met Greg at a bridal shower earlier this year in Rochester, New York. He
was the entertainment, a very hot-bodied stripper. His act was very clever. He
was a magician in a long black cape, and started out making rabbits, flowers
and bowls of goldfish appear. Then he started making things DISAPPEAR. He
would hold his cape wide open, then sweep it shut, spin around, and flash it
open again. And each time an article of his clothing had vanished. First his
tuxedo jacket, then his white dress shirt disappeared to reveal his
extraordinary physique. Powerful arms and shoulders; firm pecs graced with
tiny pin-point nipples; rippling abs. Then his trousers disappeared to expose
bulging calves that flowed up to muscular thighs that only emphasized the
bulging pouch of his black silk
g-string. With his final spin he threw off his cape and stood before us in all
his naked glory. And he WAS glorious. His cock was thick and long, fully erect
with a large pink mushroom head dancing above the lowest-hanging velvety sac
of huge testicles I had ever seen!
They were still swinging back and forth, banging from one muscular thigh to
the other, from the force of his last spin. I knew right then I HAD to HAVE
that set of balls. He wasn't in the least embarrassed as one woman after
another grabbed for his magnificent cock. When he felt someone was missing out
on the fun, he shoved that ten inches of manhood in her face. When he
approached me, I think I startled him a little when I ignored his roaring
hardon, and quickly grabbed his flopping nutsac. But he seemed to enjoy the
attention I paid to his hefty balls. They were HUGE! Heavy, firm with just a
little "give' when I squeezed them hard. THAT opened his eyes, but I could
tell he liked the rough treatment I was dishing out. I knew they were meant
for ME!
After the party I approached him and asked his fees and if he would be
interested in performing at my next BALL. When I offered him twice his usual
fee, he jumped at the chance. I said I would like him to do his magic act, but
with a couple small changes. We could work it out when the time came.
The night of my BALL had arrived. I had invited all my cutter friends, male
and female. They were only to observe - this party was for ME! They could
enjoy the show but the final act would be mine.
Greg knew he would be concentrating on me, and did his act directly in front
of me. He would repeat his act from the bridal shower, but once naked, he
would perform a sexy little dance, with me sitting at eye-level with his
crotch.
Everyone clapped and applauded as his clothes disappearred. There were cheers
and whistles when he opened his cape to expose his bulging g-string. But when
he tossed his cape aside, and began to shake his huge vulnerable genitals in
my face, there was total silence.
Greg's face registered his curiosity. At this point in his act, his audience
usually went WILD! He hesitated a moment, his wildly swinging balls coming to
rest far down his thighs. He looked at me, and I smiled and motioned for him
to continue. With a big grin on his face, he closed his eyes and pulled his
hips back, then forward to send that trophy sac of balls swinging up at my
face.
I grabbed them in mid-swing, and as he moved to swing back again, I pulled my
straight razor from under my seat. I felt his velvety bag pull through my
fingers, and closed my fist around his big balls when they reached the bottom
of his fleshy sac. As he swung forward again, I tugged those heavy nuts away
from his crotch as far as I could, and on his first backward movement, drew
that deadly sharp straight razor through the soft fine skin of his scrotum,
severing his big nuts just below his arching cock.
It happened so quickly, Greg did not immediately feel anything. But the room
erupted in applause when the slice was made. Greg, his hands clasped behind
his head, opened his eyes to see his audience. He was still gyrating when he
looked at me, still with that stupid grin on his face.
When I smirked back and held up his lopped-off ballsac in my hand, his
expression changed instantly from amusement to HORROR! He stopped in mid swing
and grabbed his still hard cock in one hand. Jerking it aside, he looked at
the ruin I had just commited. His other hand reached below his now shooting
cock, unable to truly believe that what was once there to grab, was now gone.
His face crumpled up, and in a little-boy whine that rose to a loud roar,he
said, "My baaAALLLLLLLS." With his hands clasped between his legs, his now
soft, limp cock hanging over his wrist, Greg staggerred away to collapse
against the wall. The incredibly handsome bodybuilder example of manhood was
now a castrated, useless eunuch. His heavy muscle mass would atrophy to flabby
flesh; his big proud cock would never stand again. And his big fleshy sac of
testicles would be the crowning glory of my collection.
My friends cheered and applauded the unmanning of this exceptional young man.
Everyone had to touch or squeeze my new trophy, and say something humiliating
to the new eunuch. Several cutters actually pulled his hands away from his
crotch to admire my handiwork.
We bundled his cape between his legs, and dropped him at the nearest emergency
room, then went on to feast and celebrate. The acquiring of such a superb satt
of balls doesn't happen every day. But I'm ALWAYS on the lookout for the next
ripe pair to harvest. Thecia
* * * |
Ayzintion City - One Slave’s Viewpoint | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES | One slave warns another and tells his story in the process. | ` As a reminder, Ayzintion City is a place like no other place on earth. It is
city where the slave traders come, and the slave buyers come, and the entire
city with its ancient buildings and associated businesses are all linked to
the trade. It is a place where the Eastern Province and the Southern Province
converge, and sometimes the slave auctions will trade as many as a thousand
boys in a single week. Ayzintion City has existed since the first maps were
drawn, and while it is well known among those that deal in human flesh it is
almost unheard of outside of that elite circle. The city is hidden in the
mountains, and it is surrounded by water and deep ravines. Unless you know the
way into the city, you would never be able to find it. The majority of all
slave trading that is done has its roots to Ayzintion, and if you are
interested in buying or selling or you need to find a boy to own it is there
that you will be drawn. `
As I looked at the boy I almost let it go. He was young, sixteen at the most,
and I was twenty now and yet I knew it was not my place to tell him. But as I
gazed on him, watching him, I knew too that I would trade places with him in
an instant if I could. I longed to be him, and so I decided to warn him.
Still, the decision was not easy but once I had decided to speak I knew that I
would even though I wasn’t even sure what I would say. I had never spoken of
it after it had happened to me, and yet he was new and deserved to be warned:
“HEY.... you..... yeah, YOU, by the woodpile.”
He looked at me then and I saw him stare with an intensity that new slaves
tend to have when they are called. He looked around the yard to see if he was
being watched, and then he looked back to me and our eyes met.
“Listen, I saw you looking at the girl earlier, and if you are smart you
should just forget her and just do what they tell you.”
He turned to me just then, holding the ax, the wetness of his sweat gleaming
off his naked back. He had been chopping the master’s wood for the past
several hours, and his teenage body was dripping from the heat of the work. He
had a perfect body, the way a developing adolescent’s body is when it is
sixteen and pushing towards manhood. It was obvious to both of us that he was
a lot stronger than me, and while my body had grown somewhat fat and lazy over
the past few years, his was hard and ripped the way it is supposed to be. He
was staring at me, staring at me the way a person stares at a dog or a cat or
a goat. From his look it was obvious he had been told, and even if he was new
on the ranch it was not that unexpected that he would have heard of me. He
hadn’t seen it, hadn’t even been bought yet when it had happened even, yet the
teenager knew something of it already, and he looked at me with a combination
of disgust and curiosity.
I hated his look. I spoke to him then: “Don’t scorn me. I used to have a hard
body like you. I was strong, and the fatness you see now wasn’t here. I used
to chop the wood too. It was one of my chores when I was your age and I was
very good at it---even better than you.”
Then, almost to confirm my suspicions he said “Is it true what they say? Did
you really get your balls cut off by the owner’s youngest boy?”
God, the memory came flooding back! I felt the pain again, like I always did,
the humiliation of it refreshed in my mind. I remember the laughing, the
little kid holding my balls, feeling the knife as he sawed it into me. I
remember his father encouraging him on, the other slaves watching, and I
remember their erections as they watched my nutting. I remembered the girl
most of all, yeah, I could never forget her and what she had cost me. I closed
my eyes, and remembered the wetness of her sex and how I had fucked her. I
felt the chill then, as I remembered how she had watched my balls get tossed
in the dirt. I remembered her look and the way she had gripped my shaft as my
balls had been cut from me. I closed my eyes harder, feeling the tears then,
trying to shut out the memory, but the feeling and the memory shook me to the
core and so I opened them and used the sight of the boy to push the memory
back instead. Back, back to the recess in my mind where I tried to always keep
it. I wiped my eyes to keep the tears at bay, but I knew I might lose the
battle at any moment.
The kid was staring at me like I was some kind of half-animal, half-human
freak I had been turned into. I knew I was the laughing stock of the ranch now
and where I used to do the heavy work now I spent my days cleaning up the pig
slop and emptying the toilet buckets. I smelled of them now, and as I allowed
that thought the tears came to my eyes then, and I couldn’t stop them.
I answered him though the tears anyway: “It doesn’t matter...I’m just telling
you...the way you were looking at her earlier. I saw you, and you want her. I
know you do. Well, seek your relief with your hand, but leave the girl to
herself. I only wish someone had told me.”
He looked down, and then he swung the ax then, hard, splitting the log he had
placed on the chopping block with ease. He took another from the pile, and did
it too. Then he turned back to me and asked: ”What happened...why did they
take your balls?”
I stopped then, hesitated, but then just suddenly started to talk, to tell
him. Perhaps I needed to relive it, perhaps I needed someone to hear me tell
it, someone to understand the pain and the misery and not ridicule me for it.
Perhaps that’s why I told him the tale. I don’t know really why, but I did. He
stared at me as I began to speak, looking at me and listening, and it was
obvious he wanted to know and perhaps I really wanted to tell him.
“Like I said, I used to chop the wood like you, and I was here, where you are
now, when I first met her. She’s the girl you know as Leonna, the twenty-one
year old who still serves the master in his kitchen. She was seventeen then,
and I was just sixteen, like you, with a hard body and the desires you have
now filled me then. I wanted her, thought about her, watched her. When she
would come by I would wink at her, and she always smiled back and we flirted
that way for months. I was in love, or so I thought, and while I had never had
a girl I knew I wanted her and I dreamed about almost nothing else. Looking at
you, and the way you were looking earlier, I suspect you are now where I once
was not that very long ago.”
The boy had stopped chopping, and was listening. He nodded, and then
acknowledged: “Yeah, I like the girl in the pink dress you saw earlier. I
don’t even know her name yet, but I think of her and I watch her tits and I
dream of being with her. She works in the inner-garden most of the time.”
I think his words caught me off-guard, and his admission of what I had
suspected made me realize I needed to continue. So I said: “I wish I could
remember the feeling you have. It was taken with my balls, and now it is gone
forever. But I used to have it. But I do remember Leonna. Like I said, I
thought of almost nothing else. Then, well, on the day that was my undoing,
well, on that morning she had come by the woodpile. It was higher then, but it
was right where you are standing and as she passed on an errand she told me to
meet her in the hay barn right after the master had eaten his lunch. She told
me he would be leaving for the fields right afterwards, and we could be alone.
She also told me that he would be taking everyone with him because it was the
harvest time and winter was coming. Well, when she told me that my heart had
started pounding. Right afterwards, she had hurried back to the house and I
hadn’t been able to talk with her. Well, as you can imagine, for the rest of
the morning I chopped the wood but thought of her and wondered what would
happen. I remember my prick had been hard in my pants, and I remember how I
waited for lunch time, for the master to eat, and then for the wagon to be
hitched. Like she had said, he took all of the slaves, and he even took his
sons, or at least the older ones. But he left me behind to do the wood. As
soon as he was gone I rushed to where the hay is stored, and as I entered, she
was there.”
I had his attention now. He looked around again, and then said: ”Go on. What
happened? Please....did she let you?”
“As soon as I came into the room she was on me. We kissed and held each other.
I had never felt a woman, never been that close to a girl, and she smelled so
fine and so sweet and it was so good. Yeah, she was wonderful and I wanted to
be with her so bad. Then, she was pulling me to her, running her hands over my
bare chest, and my sweat from the work at the woodpile seemed to add to her
desire. Her top came down...I remember her breasts and OH GOD I do remember
them as they fell out and I saw them for the first time. Its funny now, how I
remember my reaction but can no longer understand it. But then, when I had my
balls, I was like an animal in heat, driven to them and I started kissing them
and licking them and as I sucked her nipples I remember her moaning with
desire. Suddenly I was holding her, kissing her, touching her everywhere it
seemed. I held her tits, felt her thighs, ran my hand over her dress, and then
under it. She went for the rope around my waist, and as my pants came down I
was on her....feeling her....touching her. Then she laid back on the hay that
was piled in the center of the barn. There’s a pile there even today, next to
one of the support posts. It was the same on that day. Yeah, I remember that
pile and how she had laid back onto it, pulling me down and onto her as she
did so. Her dress came off then, and it just seemed to fall away and I looked
at her and it was then that I saw her sex. I had never seen the sex of a
woman, and I remember looking at it, staring at it, wanting it. Yeah, I can
still remember the first look, and how it made me go rigid.”
The boy was interested now. I noticed the bulge in his trousers, and it was
obvious I had his full attention. He grabbed another piece of wood then, and
swung the ax splitting it. Then, he turned to me and said: “So....did
you....well, did you FUCK her?”
I looked at him before I spoke. He was so eager to hear, like a boy who is
desperate to learn. I answered him then: “Yeah....I remember that like it was
yesterday. I was so hard then, my prick was so damn hard. It was, and she took
it in her hands and guided it right into her sex. She was so damn hot, and I
remember her wetness and the heat from her body and I remember sliding it in
and out of her. Yeah, I pumped my hips and pushed my prick in and out and in
and out. I was so aroused, and yeah, I fucked her. I fucked her and fucked her
and fucked her. God, I can’t even get it up anymore.” As I said those words
the tears came then, and they just flowed with the memory and what I had lost.
He didn’t say anything. He chopped another log, and then another, and after he
did the third one and my tears were under control, he looked back to me and
asked: “So, what happened? Did they come back from the fields?”
I shook my head, and worked to regain my composure. Then I continued: “I was
in her, feeling the feeling, and it was so wonderful that it seemed to go on
forever. She was moaning, and then she was grabbing me so hard....her whole
body shook as I fucked her. I remember then when it happened, how she
shuddered and then how I suddenly joined her in the feeling. Yeah, I emptied
my balls then into her, my seed just exploding deep in her and even as it was
happening my hips continued to push in and out of her almost on their own. It
was the most incredible feeling that I ever had!”
He was breathing hard, and staring at me now. “Was that the last time you
squirted?”
“No. If it had been I’d still have my balls. But it was the first and the last
time I ever filled a woman with my seed. As I was doing it, feeling the
feeling and my balls were emptying themselves into her, well it was then that
we heard him and it was then that we realized we had been seen.”
He was really hanging on my every word now. He glanced around the yard, and
then stacked another piece of wood, but didn’t swing the ax. Instead, he said
“Go ON. Please... God... who saw you fuck her?”
“It was Gerrit. Yeah, the owner’s youngest son. He was just eleven then, yeah,
not even a teenager. I guess he had snuck in the loft. I don’t know when,
never saw him come in, and I still don’t know everything he saw. But he saw
enough I know. I tried to call him, but he just ran out of the barn, and well,
I jumped up but by the time I had put on my britches he was gone. It turned
out he ran all the way to the fields.”
The boy swung the ax then, and the log dropped into two pieces. He then said:
“What did you do? Did you go after him?”
“He could not be found. I looked everywhere. I never suspected he would go
that far. In the end I did the only thing I could do, I went back to the
woodpile and chopped as much wood as I could, as fast as I could. Leonna ran
back to the house to get her chores done, and all I could do was hope he
wouldn’t tell anyone.”
He said “Why didn’t you run away?”
“Yeah, I know what you are thinking. But I wasn’t thinking they would cut me.
I mean, the owner doesn’t believe in gelding even now...none of his slaves he
buys have been cut...in fact except for me none of his slaves have ever been
cut. He doesn’t cut them because he believes that it makes them fat and lazy.
He doesn’t want slaves that have lost their strength. Look at me! My hard body
disappeared when they took my balls.”
The boy said: “I would have run away.”
“To where? We are only two miles from the edge of the city, and in the other
direction is the eastern province. You would never get far, and with the brand
they gave you in the city after you were sold it would be impossible to get
away for long. If they catch an escaped slave they drag them to the city and
there they always geld them. I knew that even then, and I also had heard that
they often take their pricks too. No, running away didn’t seem a choice.
Besides, I thought the most they would do was whip me, and while I knew a
whipping was bad I was strong enough so I figured I would survive it. You want
to hear something stupid though?”
He said “Go on. I want to hear everything.”
“Well, I remember, of all things, I remember thinking that if Gerrit told on
me and they really whipped me it would be OK. I remember thinking that she was
worth a whipping. Yeah, I remember thinking that. God I was stupid!”
He didn’t say anything for a long while after that. He took some more wood,
and as I watched him split it I wondered why I was telling him. He had a
perfect body, the type of body that was ripped and strong, and as I watched
him I noticed that the tufts of fur under his pits were thicker than my own. I
wondered about his prick, and the hair above it. The master’s teenage sons had
shaved me as a joke about six months after the boy had cut me, and after that
it had never really grown back in. God they had laughed at me as they took it
and they still laughed at me at the baths. I could see the few black hairs
rising from his pants and growing up to his navel, and as I looked at him I
realized he was already more of a man than I would ever be again. He looked
back at me at that very moment, and then he stopped the ax and said:
“So....tell me, tell me how you lost your balls.”
“I was here, right here, chopping the wood like you when they came. The master
was in the group, as were his boys. He had most of the slaves with him too,
and as they came into the yard I saw them, and I knew I was in trouble. The
owner was more angry than I ever saw him. Gerrit was in the lead, and as they
entered the wood yard he pointed me out, and said “There he is!” Yeah, I
remember that. The owner confronted me then. He asked me if I had been alone
with one of the slave girls? I told him I had. Then he asked me if I had dared
to fuck her? Yeah, I remember he asked me that.”
The boy asked: “You told him you did?”
I looked at him, and then nodded my head as I continued: “Yeah...I mean, what
else could I say? Gerrit was there at his side and I knew the boy had already
talked. You could tell that by the anger in the master’s eyes. The master
already knew, and if I had lied I was afraid of what he would do. I figured I
would be whipped and then it would be over. But he didn’t whip me. As soon as
I admitted the fucking, he looked even more angry and then he told them to
grab me, and suddenly they were on me and I was dragged to the hay barn. I was
certain he was going to whip me then but I was wrong. He wanted to see where I
had been with the girl and he made me show him where I had done it. When I
pointed it out he had them drag me to the same pile of hay, the one where I
had fucked her only a few hours before. They tied my wrists together, and then
strung my arms up over my head and tied them to the post that the hay was
piled against. The had me tied so I was almost seated on top of the hay pile,
my hands up and attached to the post. I still thought they were going to whip
me, but they turned me around so I was facing everyone. I tried to apologize
but he had them stuff a rag in my mouth. I remember him saying he didn’t want
to hear anything else from me.”
The boy was staring at me with interest. I kept going, the tale now just
flowing on its own, almost like I had to tell it, had to relive it, had to
some way, somehow, get through it. “They took my pants then....just pulled
them off and I was naked then and they were all looking at me. He had the
other slaves tie me then, with my legs wide apart so that they were stretched
out to the sides of the hay pile. They put some pegs in the ground, and then
he had them remove my boots and attach my feet to them. I couldn’t really move
much after that, and I couldn’t talk with the dirty rag in my mouth. I was
stretched out and exposed, and I was really scared but I still had no idea
what they were going to do to me.”
The boy stopped me then as he asked: “Then, did they cut you right away,
or...what? Tell me. Please! I want to know how it was done.”
“Well, everyone was there. The lady was there even, and all the slaves from
the fields were there. His boys too, they were there. He then called for the
girl. Then, before she arrived, he spoke. Yeah, I don’t remember the exact
words, but he spoke to everyone. Everyone but me. He didn’t speak to me, not
then he didn’t. It was like I was just an object, or a pig or a young bull to
be steered. He said he would not tolerate slave sex of any kind at any time
unless he approved it first. He said that he and he alone would select which
slaves if any would be bred, and when. He also said from now on if any of us
tried it on our own he would cut their balls off. He looked at me when he said
that. Yeah, I still remember that glance. He sure got the attention of all the
slaves. He also said it was a simple rule, and they either would keep their
balls in their pants or lose them.”
“Yeah, that’s when he tied my balls. I still remember it....he took the string
off my own boots. he pulled down on my balls, way down, and then he wrapped it
around my balls....I felt him doing it and I begged him to stop but the gag
muffled my cries. I remember he looked right into my eyes, and then, with a
hard jerk he snapped the leather bootlace tight and with the snap it closed
around my sac. I grunted from the pain, and then he pulled it so tight I
almost passed out. He tied my bootlace into a knot then, and it was so tight
that my balls were bulging in my sac and I was aware that they were being
strangled by the tie. After he had tied them he slowly removed the other
bootlace and then he wrapped it too right around my scrotum. He put the second
loop above the first, and when he snapped it shut I felt the pain all over
again. I know I bucked my hips--I thought my balls would burst they were so
tight in my sac. I remember feeling the ache, God it hurt, and I remember
looking down at my balls and they had already gone bright red and they were so
tight that the skin looked like it was going to just split open and my balls
were going to pop through.” I think I panicked when I saw them and I know I
bucked my hips trying to get it loose for more than a minute. I remember doing
that, and I remember everyone laughing as I did. The ties were so tight and my
balls ached as they bulged out in my sac and I was so scared. It made me sick
to see my balls that way.”
The boy then interrupted and ask: “Was your prick hard?”
“No, not then it wasn’t. Right after he did the ties and my balls were really
hurting my prick was small, hanging between my legs. I had fucked her just an
hour or so before, and I thought I had been satisfied and my prick was hanging
since it had happened. Well, that’s when Leonna came in. When she arrived
everyone stared at her. I was so humiliated, and I didn’t want her to see me
with my balls bulging in my sac but I couldn’t get away and she saw my limp
dick and my red balls as soon as she entered the room. Anyway, when she saw me
she started pleading for me. She said it was her fault, and she begged him to
forgive me. He didn’t seem to care what she said. Then, well, then he told her
to go grab my little prick. I remember the murmurs in the room when he said
that, and I remember her look as he told her to do it. Yeah, he told her to
hold my prick, and he said he swore to God in heaven that if she didn’t or if
she let go of it before he said she could that he would cut it off of me. He
was so angry, and so he made her hold me. Yeah, I remember him saying that
cause she freaked but then did what he said, and so as I lay with my legs
spread she grabbed my cock and I watched and felt her do it. When she did,
well, when she did that’s when it started growing and even though I tried to
will it down it went rigid from her attention. It’s almost funny now, because
it doesn’t get stiff anymore, but then, well, then it was as hard as a piece
of steel even with the room full of people. She really squeezed it, because I
think she was afraid it would slip from her grip. So she held it, never
letting it go...just kept squeezing it and I got harder and harder and
everyone laughed as I did so.”
“Well, that’s when he told Gerrit to come forward. He gave the kid his knife.
He was just eleven then, and his hands were so small and his eyes were so big
and he looked so excited. He seemed to really enjoy holding that damn knife
from his father’s pocket. As the boy held the knife the master made a big deal
out of telling everyone that it had been used to castrate many of the ranch
pigs. He told me it would be adequate to cut my balls off, and he pointed out
it had a serrated edge that would make it easy even for the boy to cut them.
Then he started telling the kid how to make the cut. He told him not to hurry
when he cut me, that I deserved to feel the knife. He said I had enjoyed
fucking a girl he owned, and so he wanted me to enjoy being castrated. He said
it was important that I not miss any of the feeling. He emphasized that he
didn’t want it done fast, that he wanted me to feel it happening and make sure
I never forgot it. Then, well, he had the boy pull my ballsac out, hard,
stretching it from my body. When his small hands grabbed by sac and he was
tugging it outwards, I remember the chill and the fear and the intensity of
that moment.”
The boy was rock hard. I could see even now he was enjoying hearing about my
destruction. I hesitated then, letting the story hang in the air. He was
staring, and then he finally ask: “So, did he cut them off of you then?”
I looked at him, and then let the memory form the words: “No, he didn’t cut me
then. The master told the boy to hold my balls, and to start sawing the knife
through them between the two ties immediately if I dared to shoot a wad. He
then said that if I didn’t squirt, then he was not to cut me. That’s when he
turned to me. I remember the master looking right at me, leaning over so we
were face-to-face, and then he told me that he really wanted to understand me,
that he could understand the urge maybe, but not the inability to control it.
He told me at sixteen that I needed to be able to control my lust. He said he
believed in second chances. I remember when he said that I thought there might
be a chance, that perhaps his anger was reduced enough that and he might yet
spare me. I remember that thought, even though the boy held my balls and the
knife was in his hands. Then, well, then he said since I had already fucked a
girl that day he assumed I was pretty much satisfied. He told me he couldn’t
understand the erection though. He said that if my earlier fuck in fact had
satisfied me then he would let me keep my balls. God I was shaking my head
yes, YES I was, I was satisfied and I was sorry. I tried to mumble it out, but
the gag stopped me. Then he said that he needed to know. He told me then that
if I was too sexed up to control myself, especially after having a woman, well
in that case then I wasn’t the kind of slave he could afford to have around
with balls between my legs. He told me then it was all up to me.”
I remember thinking it was OK....that I was very satisfied and I would NEVER
do it again without permission and I would work the rest of my life making up
for my mistake. That’s when he told the girl...well, he told Leonna that she
needed to pump my dick now so he could find out if I was satisfied enough by
what we had done earlier or not.”
The boy’s eyes were wide open, and I could see his dick was even stiffer in
his pants and a wet spot had soaked through where his tip lay against the
fabric. Then he asked: “God. He wanted her to pump your dick to see if you
were still in need? Oh God...did she do that...did she do that to you while
everyone was watching?”
I looked at him, and then I continued: “Yeah...she didn’t want to, but he
threatened her, told her she would be sold to the whore houses in the city if
she didn’t do this now. So she did....she said to me “I am sorry” and then she
starting stroking my dick up and down and up and down. He told me I had better
remember that I had already fucked her and it should be enough, that it had
better have been enough, and that I had better not seeking any more pleasure
today. He said if I showed him I could control myself then he would let me
keep my balls. I struggled then, trying to stop it. I fought the
feeling....tried to think of something, hell, anything else. But Leonna’s hand
was so soft, and as she worked my dick and her hand went up and down my shaft
I slowly began to feel the feeling within my balls. There was nothing I could
do...I knew I was getting the feeling...I tried to beg, but the gag prevented
me from talking. I frantically searched around the room for something else to
think about, but everyone was staring at my dick and I remember noticing how
the slaves all seemed hard, their cocks bulging upward in their pants and thei
expressions all hoping I would shoot. I tried to concentrate on my tied sac,
on the pain there, the way my balls were bulging, but I remember as I looked
down at them I remember thinking they almost looked like they were begging to
be removed. Gerrit was holding them in his little hand, and the steel blade
was against my sac. I went crazy then struggling to get loose because I was
losing control. They said later I looked like I was trying to cum, like I
wanted to be castrated. They said that my hips were thrusting so hard that I
was driving my own cock in and out of her fist. That’s just not the way it
was...she was pumping me, and the boy, the kid really, he had my balls in his
had and the knife, the pig knife was against the skin and the sharpness of the
steel held everything in the balance.
The boy stared at me, and I hesitated. He said then: “You came then, and he
took your balls?”
“Yes, I came. I tried not too, fought the urge as long as I possibly could,
but she felt so damn good and my balls literally ached with desire. Just as it
happened, as I began to shoot, right before I did I knew it was over and so I
thrusted hard into her hand, knowing I was cumming and knowing I had failed
the test and there was nothing else to stop him. As I did, as I shoved my hips
forward into her for the last time I felt the steel as the master told the kid
to do it. The kid started sawing the knife then through my meat even as my
seed was spurting from me. I know I grunted....felt the steel and the cut and
the knife as I thrusted like there was no tomorrow. I was also screaming into
the gag even as I was ejaculating. I guess I knew at that point he was taking
my balls and so I wanted to cum before it was done. The boy just laughed as he
cut me. He was giggling like it was funny as he cut off my balls, working the
pig knife through them. He just sawed slowly, back and forth, and in fact all
the while I was spurting he was cutting. I don’t know how long it lasted, but
as my balls emptied themselves and my cock pumped out my goo, somewhere in
that process while it was all going on, and the pleasure and the pain were all
coming at me at the same time, well at that point my balls just finally came
free and dropped into the boy’s hand. I think all the brothers burst out
laughing as it happened. There was literally a roar and a few of the people
watching actually clapped as I lost them. I remember the sharp stab of pain
that was more intense than any pain you can ever have. It was so intense I
almost fainted, the pain burned right up my groin and seemed to consume my
entire being. I remember thinking I was falling....the room tilting as I
collapsed against my bonds, even as the room was erupting in laughter. I
remember looking at my ballsac in the little boy’s hand, the way he held it up
and squeezed it. My severed balls were literally quivering in my sac, and then
as I was staring at it he just tossed it into the dirt on the filthy floor
below.”
Suddenly I heard a sound, and as I spun around Gerrit was there, listening to
me tell the end of the tale. He was standing with his hands on his hips, and
he had snuck up on me as I had been talking. My face flushed red with the
humiliation of seeing him, and as I saw the now fifteen year-old teenager who
had cut off my balls from me I looked away in shame. The other youth had
quickly gone back to working the logs again, and as he swung the ax and
another log cracked Gerrit suddenly spoke: “Soooooooooo, did the eunuch tell
you about his castration? Did he...?”
The boy stopped chopping, and searching with care the words that he spoke, he
answered: “Yes, yes sir...he told me the tale of when you took his balls.”
Gerrit laughed then, a huge laugh that rocked across the woodlot. Then he said
“Oh, he did did he? Well, did he tell you how his eyes bulged as he shot his
wad? Did he tell you how he grunted when he came in her fist or how he pumped
his hips into her hand like he was begging for me to cut him? Did he tell you
how big his dick was or how the tip glistened with his desire, the juices from
his excitement literally oozing out his single hole? Did he share with you how
his wad shot out from his body as he lay spread over the hay with his legs
tied apart, or how his cream landed on the dirt where I later tossed his
balls? Did he tell you how his eyes bulged wide as I started the cut, sawing
the knife back and forth, slowly working the steel through his sack even as he
was grunting out the last of his semen? Yeah, or what about the way his hips
bucked as I cut him, or how his sack was dark red from his bootlaces, his
balls so tight that they almost popped as I took them. Yeah, did he tell you
about the girl, about how she pumped the goo out of him even though my dad
gave him a chance if he could just control himself? Did he tell you how he
trusted wildly as he was stroked, almost begging to cum from the feel of her
hand? Did he tell you about how my brothers took his pubic hair after I took
his balls? Yeah, I am just fifteen now and I got more hair than he ever will.
I hope he told you everything. You know, I didn’t take his balls, not really.
He’s a eunuch today because he didn’t deserve them. He lost his balls because
he couldn’t control himself. In one way at least, he took his own balls. Oh,
one more thing. What he didn’t tell you was what he doesn’t know. He also lost
his balls cause he was stupid. You see, I never saw anything...nope, nothing.
I climbed into the hay barn but they heard me and by the time I was somewhere
I could see anything they were done. Yep, DONE! Sure, I told my dad they were
in the barn together, but when he asked me if they had done anything together
I told him I didn’t think so. Yeah, I told my dad nothing really. Nothing. If
our eunuch had just kept his mouth shut he’d still have his nuts! So, yeah, he
got his own balls chopped off. Well, its too bad. Ha ha ha ha! I am glad he
was so stupid though, because you know what -- it was fun to take them and
I’ll never forget the way his eyes bugged out as he grunted with the feeling
as I worked the knife though his sac. Yeah, they were so hot to take too. The
best part of all was watching his look as I tossed them into the dirt where he
had just shot his last load. Yeah, that was the best part of all hearing them
splat by the little puddle he had made. Then he grinned, a wide grin that
spread clear across his face.
As he grinned, I felt a sickening feeling like I had never felt before. I
reached down between my legs, where my balls used to hang, and as I felt the
emptiness there my eyes met Gerrit’s and as they did he burst out laughing, a
long hysterical laugh that echoed all the way across the woodlot. It was a
laugh that would ring in my ears all though that day and into the night, and
all the next day too. It’s still a laugh that I can never forget, and in fact
if I close my eyes it echoes in my mind still.
[Authors note: If you liked this story I would really appreciate a short note
letting me know. Thanks. [email protected]]
* * * |
Urlaub auf dem Bauernhof - German Language | GAY, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION, MINOR, mind control, slavery | With his three boys, a widowed man drives for holyday to a farmer in the mountains. He missunderstand the offer to a “child-training for mens pleasure” and a “very special service”. Three weeks later he see his boys very obedient und castrated. But he can’t pay the bill for the operation and must sell one of his sons. | ` „Hallo Vati, heute habe ich wieder 300 Euro eingenommen, hier schau.“ `
„Oh schön, die warst fleißig,“ ich streichle Dieter, meinem ältesten, übers
Haar. Mit seinen 13 Jahren hat er sich einen Platz in der Kauwaller Straße
hintern Bahnhof ergattert, aber nur Nachmittags, denn ich will nicht, dass er
Abends noch draußen rumläuft. Er fällt mir um den Hals und gibt mir einen
Kuss.
„Und Thomas ist gerade noch bei einem Kunden, wieder dieser ‚Kidlover23’.“
„Ach ja, heute ist Donnerstag.“ Den richtigen Namen vom Stammkunden meines
8-jährigen Sohnes kenne ich nicht. Ich hab ihn nur einmal kurz gesehen und er
machte da auf mich den Eindruck, die Kleinen nicht nur für ne schnelle Nummer
zu wollen weil die alles mitmachen, sondern weil er wirklich Zuneigung zu
ihnen hat. Ein Rücksichtsvoller und zurückhaltender Mann.
Dabei hätte ich noch vor einem halben Jahr nicht im Traum daran gedacht, dass
meine Jungs zum Aufbessern unseres kargen Unterhalts beitragen könnten und
wollten. Doch ich erzähle besser von Anfang an.
Noch vor vier Jahren waren wir eine glückliche Familie. Ich liebte meine Frau
und meine drei Söhne Dieter, Arno und Thomas. Doch das Leben geht nicht immer
so wie man es sich vorstellt. Emilie kam durch einen Autounfall ums Leben.
Morgens hatte ich ihr noch einen Kuss gegeben und mich auf die Arbeit
verabschiedet. Ich hab sie danach nur noch in einem Holzsarg gesehen. So
plötzlich greift das Schicksal zu. Der Wagen war Totalschaden und meiner Frau
wurde posthum eine Mitschule eingeräumt. Nun stand ich da mit drei Kindern und
einem Berg von Problemen. Langsam arrangierte sich alles, dank meiner Mutter
und Emilies Eltern die gerne tagsüber, das hieß vor allem Nachmittags wenn sie
von der Schule heim kamen, auf die Kleinen aufpassten. Doch meine Mutter
musste in ein betreutes Altenwohnheim und leider fanden wir keinen freien
Platz in der Nähe. Als dann auch noch Emilies Mutter starb zog ihr Vater
wieder in den Westerwald, von wo er herkam, und lebt dort zusammen mit einem
alten Jugendfreund. Aber Dieter war nun auch schon vernünftig genug um auf
seine kleineren Brüder aufzupassen. Bis darauf, dass Arno stinkfaul war und
Thomas, wenn er in seiner Fantasiewelt spielte, stundenlang nichts von seiner
Umwelt mitbekam.
Finanziell kamen wir so über die Runden. Mein Gehalt ist nicht schlecht und
zusammen mit dem Kindergeld klappte es schon. Doch einen Urlaub mit Wegfahren
hatten wir seit dem Tod meiner Frau nicht mehr. Eines Tages überkam es mich
dann und ich ging in ein Reisebüro. Die Dame dort war zwar sehr nett, doch was
sie mir anbot war hauptsächlich aus den Katalogen der großen Reisebüros. Ich
dachte aber an einen einfachen Urlaub auf dem Bauernhof, ohne großen
Schnickschnack und daher möglichst günstig. Sie zeigt mir ein paar Prospekte,
doch für mich sah das alles zu geleckt aus. Ich weiß nicht mehr wie, mein
Blick fiel auf dem Katalogständer ganz unten auf eine kleine Broschüre. Auf
rauem Papier mit nicht sehr scharfen Bildern wurden darin ein paar abgelegene
Höfe angeboten. Die Dame des Reisebüros zog ihre Nase hoch. Die angegebenen
Preise erschienen mir sehr günstig und wahrscheinlich war die Povision für das
Geschäft etwas zu gering um sich damit abzugeben. Als die Verkäuferin mir dann
noch die Broschüre aus der Hand nahm und verwundert sagte, sie kenne dieses
Blatt gar nicht und ihr sei schleierhaft, wie so etwas auf ihren Ständer käme,
nahm ich das Papier wieder an mich und suchte mein Heil in der Flucht. Zu
Hause habe ich es mir genau angeschaut. Einsame Gehöfte ohne
Landwirtschaftsindustrie, traditionell, das war genau das was ich suchte. In
meiner Erinnerung kamen die Bilder aus meiner Jugend hoch, als meine Eltern
mit mir Urlaub auf dem Bauernhof verbrachten. Damals war ich auch sehr
egoistisch gewesen, doch die drei Jahre, die wir hintereinander zum gleichen
Bauern fuhren, hatten mich geprägt. Ich fuhr mit dem Tracktor aufs Feld,
spielte mit den anderen Kindern ohne großartige Spielsachen zu brauchen, half
sogar bei der Kartoffelernte. Plötzlich fand ich es toll, zu Hause das
Geschirr abzutrocknen, den Tisch zu decken und meinen Eltern zu helfen.
Vielleicht hatte ich festgestellt, dass ich die Nähe zu anderen Menschen
genießen und trotzdem ich selbst sein kann.
Eigentlich war es nur ein Faltblatt und eigentümlicher Weise auch nicht aus
einer Region. Da stand etwas von Rumänien, ein Anwesen in Albanien, etwas in
Russland nahe der Finnischen Grenze und eines in den Alpen. Gerade das
letztere erregte mein Interesse. Die Beschreibung allerdings im Prospekt war
nicht sehr ausführlich. Jedenfalls boten sie ein spezielles Kindertraining an.
Sie würden besonders betreut. Die Eltern müssten sich nicht um sie kümmern und
könnten so auch mal ausspannen. Das hörte sich wunderbar an, und der Preis war
erfreulich niedrig. Da die Verkäuferin im Reisebüro noch nie von dem Prospekt
gehört haben wollte und ich noch ein paar Fragen hatte rief ich einfach die
angegebene Telefonnummer an. Die Ländervorwahl kannte ich nicht, aber die
Nummer dahinter war sehr kurz.
Ich musste es drei mal probieren, dann bekam ich einen Mann an die Strippe.
Zuerst fragte ich danach, wo denn da Gehöft liege. Das hätte ich besser zu
diesem Zeitpunkt nicht gefragt, denn er hielt mir einen kleinen Vortrag. Sie
lägen zwischen Österreich und der Schweiz mit der Zufahrt über Lichtenstein.
Nach dem 2.Weltkrieg hätten sich die Länder auf der Landkarte um diesen
Flecken Erde gestritten, aber als sie sahen wie abgelegen und unzugänglich es
lag und welche Kosten die Erschließung mit sich bringen würde, hatten alle
einen Rückzieher gemacht. So seien sie im Grunde genommen unabhängig. Nun,
wenn das so umständlich war dort hinzukommen. Auf der anderen Seite wollte ich
aber auch nicht mit den Touristenströmen mitschwimmen.
Nach dem Training für Kinder und Jugendliche fragte ich noch. Ja die Kleinen
würden betreut. Den Eltern tut es sicherlich gut, sich mal eine Zeit lang
nicht um die Kinder kümmern zu müssen. Das besondere an ihrem Training sei,
dass die Jungen und Mädchen hinterher genau wissen wie sie Erwachsene
glücklich machen können, und nicht nur wissen sondern auch gerne dazu bereit
seien.
Das hörte sich wirklich gut an. Im Urlaub würden die Kleinen quasi spielerisch
erzogen, so ähnlich wie das in meiner Jugend der Fall gewesen war. Ich musste
wohl etwas in Gedanken gewesen sein und hatte wohl für eine halbe Minute
nichts gesagt.
„Wir haben erstklassige Referenzen. Außerhalb der Saison beherbergen wir
regelmäßig Gruppen verschiedener Etablissements.“ Eigentlich hätte ich
spätestens da hellhörig werden müssen, doch ich legte die Worte Etablissement
und Gruppen als eine Art Jugendfreizeit für Minderbemittelte oder Sozialfälle
aus. Welch ein Irrtum.
Ich buchte für uns vier. Eigentlich wollte ich nur zwei Wochen fahren, doch
die Stimme am anderen Ende der Leitung sagte rigoros, dass drei Wochen die
Regelzeit seien. Darunter ist der Erfolg nicht zu garantieren. Ihr Preis sei
auch auf diese Zeitspanne ausgelegt und darunter würde er eine Buchung nicht
annehmen. Also bestellte ich die ersten drei Wochen in den Sommerferien.
Wir fuhren mit dem Auto frühmorgens los und kamen recht zügig auf den großen
Straßen voran. Wie die Beschreibung, die wir mit der Buchungsbestätigung
erhalten hatten, sagte, bogen wir auf immer kleinere und schmalere Straßen ab
bis wir an die Stelle kamen, an welcher der Asphalt aufhörte und in einen
Schotterweg überging. Über eine Stunde schlich ich Bergan, Bergab den schmalen
Weg entlang der nur Platz für ein Auto bot und in unregelmäßigen Abständen
Ausweichbuchten hatte. Schließlich tauchte das Gehöft vor uns auf. Also
wirklich abgelegen dachte ich.
Wir wurden bereits erwartet. Ein Mann und eine Frau nahmen gleich meine Söhne
in Empfang.
„Die Kinder sind hier in den ehemaligen Stallungen beim Haupthaus
untergebracht,“ sagte sie.
Ich wollte die Koffer für meine Kinder ausladen doch sie meinte: „nur
Zahnbürste und Zahnpasta. Alles andere machen wir schon. Sparen sie sich die
Klamotten. Die Kinder laufen hier oben eh ohne Hosen und Hemden und auch ohne
Schuhe und Strümpfe herum.“
Da war ich bei meinen Kleinen nicht so sicher, vor allem werden sie bei Gehen
über den Kies sicherlich gleich Jammern und Wehklagen. Aber ich fügte mich,
wurde ich doch so der Pflicht entbunden, während meines Urlaubs waschen zu
müssen.
Die Unterkunft war früher mal ein Kuhstall gewesen der umgebaut wurde. Die
Eisengitter, an denen die Tiere angekettet werden konnten, waren noch da,
allerdings hatte man Kabinen abgeteilt. Eigentlich waren es eher Kojen in
denen der Schlafplatz eingerichtet war. Der restliche Raum diente der
Gemeinschaft. Der Mann sagte noch, sie hätten zur Zeit noch 4 weitere Jungen
und 2 Mädchen in der Betreuung, doch von denen sah ich nichts.
Meine drei Jungs nahmen sofort ihre Kabinen rechts außen in Beschlag, warfen
sich auf die Matratzen und alberten herum.
„So Jungs. Heute Abend ist eure Ankunftsfeier, da werdet ihr quasi
aufgenommen. Macht euch auf was gefasst. Und nun zieht euch die Schuhe aus.
Hier herinnen wird nur Barfuss gelaufen. Und nun,“ meinte er zu mir gewandt,
„nun bringe ich sie zu ihrem Zimmer.“
„Tschüß Vati,“ meinten meine Jungen noch und waren Feuer und Flamme, ihre neue
Umgebung zu erkunden.
Etwa 5 Minuten musste ich mit dem Wagen fahren bis in die
Erwachsenenunterkunft kam. Das Austragshäuserl, wie es der Mann nannte, war
romantisch hinter Bäumen an einer Wiese gelegen. Mein Zimmer hatte, wie man
das heute erwartet, ein eigenes Bad. Ein Mann und eine Frau, ich vermutete ein
Ehe- oder zumindest Paar, bewohnten den Raum im ersten Stock neben meinem. Im
Erdgeschoss waren noch zwei Herren untergebracht. Unten gab es auch eine
gutausgestattete Küche für das Leibliche Wohl.
Bevor mich der Bauer oder Gutsbesitzer verließ lud er mich noch zur Abendparty
ein. Es sei die letzte Gelegenheit für mich, für die nächsten Wochen meine
Jungens zu sehen bevor sie ‚quasi in Klausur gingen’ wie er sich ausdrückte.
Dann nahm er mich noch auf die Seite.
„Ich könnte ihnen noch unseren ganz speziellen Service anbieten. Für ihren
Ältesten ist es sicherlich schon zu spät, aber für die beiden anderen.“
„Was meinen sie mit speziellem Service?“ wollte ich wissen.
„Oh, ganz speziell, so etwas bekommen sie in Europa kaum geboten. Sie wissen
sicher, was man mit männlichen Ferkeln macht damit ihr Fleisch gut schmeckend
wird?“
Ich in meiner Einfalt dachte dabei sofort an biologische Schweinezucht, bei
der die Ferkel nicht im Stall gehalten sonder draußen einen großen Auslauf
haben, sich im Dreck wälzen können und so weiter. „Das hört sich nicht
schlecht an. Wie läuft das ab?“
Er goss mir einen Schnaps ein. „Nun, morgen schon kann der Arzt kommen, sie
verstehen, bei uns geht das alles ordentlich zu. Zuerst werden ihre Jungs
untersucht, für alle Fälle, damit sie auch Gesund sind und sich nichts holen.
Sie haben natürlich die freie Wahl, Budzillo, Elatrator oder klassisch.“
Ich verstand nur Bahnhof, doch da wir gerade so gemütlich beisammen saßen und
er mir das dritte Glas eingoss fragte ich unbefangen nach.
„Also ich bevorzuge immer noch die klassische Schnipp-Schnapp-Methode.“
„Ok,“ meine Zunge wollte nach dem vierten Klaren nicht mehr so ganz wie ich.
„Für ihren Thomas und Arno?“
„Also wenn schon dann für alle drei. Ich will nicht, dass sich Dieter
benachteiligt fühlt.“
„nur herausholen oder auch mit dem Drumherum?“
„Das volle Programm, immerhin sind wir im Urlaub. Meinen Jungs will ich mal
was gönnen.“
„Das volle Programm?“ fragte der Mann. „das würde ich ihnen höchstens für
ihren Kleinsten empfehlen.“
„Warum nicht für alle?“
„Ihr Dieter ist schon zu alt dafür und der Mittlere, Arno(?), aber das ist
ihre Entscheidung. Ich schlage ihnen vor bei den beiden älteren die
umfangreiche Variante und für Thomas die Vollversion. Aber wie gesagt, sie
sagen was wir tun sollen.“
„Also gut, machen sie es so, sie haben die längere Erfahrung in ihrem Job.“
Dann holte er ein Formular aus seinem Kittel. Wir füllten es gemeinsam aus,
das heißt er fragte mich nach den Namen und Geburtsdaten der Jungen, kreuzte
ein paar Felder an, schrieb noch etwas dazu und gab es mir zum Unterzeichnen.
Dann schlief ich erst mal meinen Rausch und die Müdigkeit von der langen Fahrt
aus. Wenn ich damals geahnt hätte, welche Auswirkungen mein Fehler haben
würde, ich wäre von der nächsten Felsenspitze gesprungen.
Am Abend lief ich die Strecke zum Haupthaus und kam nach 20 Minuten ganz außer
Atem an. Es duftete schon nach gebratenem, deftig wie ich es schon lange nicht
mehr gerochen hatte. Als ich kam liefen mir eine Horde Kinder entgegen. Wie
ich zuerst erschrocken, dann aber amüsiert feststellte waren alle Jungen und
Mädchen nackt und alle waren meiner Schätzung nach im Alter von 9 bis 13.
Meine Buben vermisste ich. An einer langen Holztafel nahmen wir Platz. Nun
wurde das Essen aufgetragen und zwar von meinen Söhnen. So etwas hätte ich
ihnen nicht zugetraut, wo sie sich doch immer vor der Hausarbeit gedrückt
haben. Sie waren noch in der Kleidern, mit der wir hergefahren waren. Nur ihre
Füße waren nackt. Ich grinste ihnen zu.
„Zu Hause habt ihr aber so etwas nicht freiwillig gemacht.“
„Aber hier sind wir im Urlaub. Es hat riesig Spaß gemacht beim Kochen zu
helfen,“ kam die Antwort von Arno. Allerdings sah ich nicht, dass die auch
etwas aßen, allerdings führte ich es darauf zurück, dass sie vorher schon zu
viel genascht hatten.
Nach dem Abräumen begann die Zeremonie. Die Frau, die uns schon bei der
Ankunft willkommen geheißen hatte, hielt eine kleine Flasche mit klarem Inhalt
in der Hand und goss das zähfliesende auf die Esslöffel, die jeder meiner
Söhne in der Hand hielt. Sie schluckten es herunter.
„Schmeckt nach nichts, klebt nur etwas schmierig,“ meinte Dieter bevor er
seinen zweiten Löffel voll einnahm. Insgesamt schluckte jeder vier Esslöffel
von der mir unbekannten Flüssigkeit.
Die Frau sammelte das Besteck ein und nun sprangen die anderen Kinder auf,
umringten meine Söhne, wirbelten um sie herum, schnappten sie an den Armen und
drückten sie auf Holzstühle. Ein Summen ertönte und der Bauer hielt einen
Langhaarschneider oder Barttrimmer in die Höhe.
„Bei uns ist es Tradition, dass die Haarpracht praktisch sein muss. Ihr werdet
keine Zeit haben für lange Waschaktionen und mit nassem Haar holt man sich
schnell einen Schnupfen. Also runter mit der Wolle.
Mein Dieter, der schon seit über zwei Jahren keinen Friseursalon mehr von
innen gesehen hatte, dem die Wellen bis über die Schulter hingen und die
Zotteln ständig im Gesicht baumelten, schüttelte sich.
„Nein, was soll denn das,“ rief er.
Es wird dir gefallen, ist viel praktischer so wirst sehen – und es tut auch
nicht weh,“ meinte der Mann und grinste dabei. Ohne lange zu fackeln hielt er
Dieters Nackenhaare hoch, setzte er den Apparat an und fuhr langsam nach oben.
Ich schritt nicht ein, war ich doch froh darüber, dass er mal wieder wie ein
Mensch aussehen würde. Nichts gegen lange Haare, aber auch die muss man
Pflegen und schneiden lassen. Ich schaute mich um und sah, dass auch alle
anderen Kinder einen kurzen Meckieschnitt hatten. Bei Dieter zeigte sich eine
Schneise die mit jeder Bewegung des Mannes breiter wurde. Mein Sohnemann
schüttelte sich immer noch, das heißt nur den Kopf da er an Armen und Beinen
festgehalten wurde.
„Scheiße, halt endlich still, sonst schneide ich dir noch ins Ohr. Ich hab das
Ding momentan auf zwei Zentimeter eingestellt, aber wenn du nichts spurst
stell ich es kürzer.“
Doch Dieter schüttelte immer noch seinen Kopf. Da passierte es, der Vorsatz am
Rasierer zerbrach und die Klingen gruben sich bis fast auf die Kopfhaut in die
Haare.
„So, das hast du nun davon, meinte er nur und arbeite seelenruhig weiter.
Dieter war völlig entgeistert, zum einen war er erschrocken als der Kunststoff
kaputt ging und davon flog, dann über die kahle Stelle die durch diesen Unfall
geschehen war und vor allem über den Mann, der mit dem Gerät ungerührt weiter
seine Haare abschnitt. Ich musste nur lachen, das war mal eine Abreibung für
ihn. Kurze Zeit später hatte Dieter nur noch kurze Stummel auf seinem Kopf.
„Glatze, Glatze,“ riefen die Kinder. Zwei Männer, die ich erst beim Essen
kennen gelernt hatte und Egon und Erwin hießen und wohl so etwas wie Erzieher
sein sollten, standen auf, gingen ins Haus und kamen gleich darauf zurück. Der
eine brachte einen neuen Langhaarschneider, der andere einen Rasierpinsel, ein
Schälchen, Seife und eine Klinge mit. Jetzt ging die Sache aber ein bisschen
zu weit, dachte ich, trotzdem ließ ich geschehen, was sie mit Dieter nun
anstellten. Etwas Seife zu dem Wasser im Schälchen, aufschlagen und auf dem
Kopf verteilen, das tat der eine Kerl. Dann schabte er mit dem Rasierer über
Dieters Schädel und die Stummelchen gehörten der Vergangenheit an. Noch ein
zweites mal seiften sie ihn ein und wählten diesmal eine andere Richtung um
das Messer über die Haut gleiten zu lassen. Mit einem Handtuch wischten sie
die Glatze meines Sohne blitzblank. So hatte ich ihn noch nie gesehen. Selbst
bei seiner Geburt hatte er Haare auf dem Kopf gehabt. Doch ich fand, es sah
irgendwie ansprechend aus.
Dieter wurde losgelassen und schmollte. Mit einer Hand fühlte er seine Platte.
„Will noch jemand einen Kahlschlag oder seid ihr vernünftig?“
Sie waren vernünftig und so bekamen Arno und Thomas nur ihre Igelfrisur, wobei
bei Arno sowieso nicht viel wegkam da er sich schon seit langem einen
Kurzhaarschnitt zugelegt hatte.
Jetzt holte der Bauer einen Schlauch hervor.
„Zieht euch aus, sonst werdet nicht nur ihr sondern auch eure Klamotten nass.
Es ist bei uns so brauch, dass jedes Kind erst mal richtig sauber gewaschen
wird. Mein kleiner Thomas folgte der Anweisung und zog sich die Hose, das Hemd
und das Unterhemd aus. Auch Dieter fand es wohl besser der Aufforderung
nachzukommen. Was so ein Ungehorsam mit sich bringt hatte er ja gerade eben
erst erlebt.
„Nicht so schüchtern, ihr seht doch, dass hier alle Kinder rumlaufen, wie Gott
sie geschaffen hat.“
Zögernd streift sich Thomas die Unterhose nach unten. Es ist auch schon eine
Weile her, dass ich ihn so sah. Schon trifft ein scharfer Wasserstrahl auf
ihn. Er schreit, aber nicht vor Schmerz. Gleich ist ein anderer Junge dabei
und gemeinsam drehen und wenden sie sich im Nass, spritzen mit ihren Händen.
Der Schlauch wendet sich Dieter zu, zieht im fast die Unterhose vom Po. Nass
klebt sie an ihm und zeichnet das darunter genau ab, also zieht er sie auch
aus, zeigt seine Hinterseite der Düse. Mit seinen gerade erst 13 Jahren ist er
schon gut gebaut. Schöne Muskeln, einen ordentlichen Schwanz und schon die
ersten Haare darüber. Da sein restlicher Körper einschließlich seines Kopfes
glatt ist stechen die natürlich besonders hervor.
Als letztes wendet sich der Wasserstrahl nun Arno, meinem 10-jährigen
mittleren Sohn zu, der noch komplett angezogen ist. Er verzieht das Gesicht.
Sein T-Shirt klatscht an seinen Körper, die Hose trieft. Wie ein begossener
Pudel steht er da. Da laufen Thomas und der andere Junge zu ihm, knöpfen ihm
den Bund auf und reißen ihm fast die Klamotten herunter. Krampfhaft hielt Arno
seine Unterhose fest, doch eine Schere zwingt den Gummi zum Aufgeben und es
bleibt nur eine Hand vor seinem Geschlecht.
„Die Schüchternheit werden wir dir schon noch austreiben,“ meinte der Bauer.
„Ich muss mal ganz dringend,“ sagte der kleine Thomas und flitzt ins Haus.
„Das kommt von Abführmittel von vorhin,“ klärt mich die Bäuerin auf. Die Jungs
sollen auch innerlich rein werden. Schon rennt Arno hinterher und als letzter
Dieter. Es braucht eine halbe Stunde bis die drei wieder auftauchen.
„Thomas, komm doch mal zu mir,“ fordert der Bauer ihn auf. Ein paar Schritte
abseits neben einem abgemauerten Bereich, der früher wohl einen Misthaufen
beherbergte, legt er ein paar Bretter im Boden zur Seite. Den Schlauch mit der
Düse hält der Mann immer noch in der Hand, aber auch einen Tiegel Melkfett. Er
heißt meinen Jungen, sich mit den Händen an den Knien abzustützen. Von der
Schmiere klatscht der Kerl etwas zwischen die Hinterbacken meines Kleinen. Er
dreht die Düse am Schlauch auf, bis ein kleiner schlaffer Strahl hervor kommt.
Dann steckt er das Vorderteil dem Kind in den Hintern.
„Wenn es drückt sagst du es.“
Warum ich immer noch auf meinem Stuhl hockte weiß ich nicht. Scheinbar gefiel
mir, was die Leute mit meinen Jungs anstellten. Ordentlich nass spritzen, was
ist denn da schon dabei, das habe ich als Kind immer gerne gemocht und
zumindest Thomas und Dieter scheinen das ebenso zu empfinden. Der Einlauf
jetzt, nun gut, das hätte nicht sein müssen. Für Thomas jedoch scheint auch
das ein Spiel zu sein. Ihm ist es wohl nur etwas unangenehm, dass ihm alle
zuschauen als er das Wasser in einem kräftigen Strahl wieder herausdrückt und
in das Pulloch platschen lässt.
Arno war an der Reihe und sträubte sich, doch auch um diese Prozedur kam er
nicht herum.
„Das ist geil,“ rief Thomas noch und Dieter probiert es gleich auch aus.
Meine drei Jungs standen nun an drei Seiten um das Loch, der Bauer an der
vierten Rechteckseite und steckte ihnen nun abwechselnd die Schlauchdüse in
den Allerwertesten. Zumindest Thomas konnte nicht genug davon bekommen und
beschwerte sich lauthals als der Bauer das Wasser abdrehte.
Es war schon dunkel geworden und der Hof wurde durch viele Lichter erleuchtet.
„So, die Kinder müssen nun ins Bett, damit ihr für morgen ausgeruht seid,“
sagte einer der Erzieher.
„Wie gesagt,“ legt mir der Bauern den Arm um die Schultern und bringt mich auf
den Weg. „Für die nächsten Wochen haben sie ihre Buben los. Ich will sie hier
erst wieder sehen wenn die Ferien rum sind.“
„Aber wenn ich mal was mit ihnen gemeinsam unternehmen will?“
„Nichts da, das schadet nur unserem Training. Keinen Kontakt zu den Kindern,
erst die letzten Tage können wir es gestatten, wenn ihre Buben fleißig waren.“
„Auch keinen Besuch? So stand das aber nicht im Prospekt!“
„Hören Sie mal, unser Programm ist anerkannt und wohl durchdacht. Es hat seine
Gründe, für die Kinder wie auch für sie. Spannen sie aus, gehen sie spazieren
oder schwimmen. Wir haben einen wunderbaren See keinen Kilometer von ihrer
Unterkunft entfernt. Lesen sie, nehmen sie eine Auszeit. Wir regeln das schon
und wenn trotzdem mal was sein sollte sind sie ja nicht aus der Welt.“
„Ich hätte aber gerne auch ein paar Urlaubsfotos von mir und den Jungs
geschossen.“
„Das geht schon klar, das ist bei uns im Preis inbegriffen. Sie bekommen
wunderbare Fotos und eine lange Videokassette, da können sie sich ihre Jungs
anschauen, alles klar? Oh es ist schon so spät? Sie kennen den Weg ja bereits.
Also gute Nacht.“
Die Luft war klar und verdrehte mir mit den drei Bieren, die ich zum Essen
getrunken hatte, den Kopf. Ich war hin und her gerissen. Eine Zeit alleine zu
verbringen, das hatte seinen Reiz. Wie lange war ich schon nicht mehr für mich
gewesen. Aber das Verantwortungsbewusstsein meldete sich immer wieder. Ob sich
meine Jungs nicht nach mir sehnen? Jedenfalls fiel ich wie ein Stein in mein
Bett.
Am folgenden Tag hatte ich mit dem Paar gleich Kontakt. Gemeinsam gingen wir
am Nachmittag, und es war recht heiß, zum See. Herrlich erfrischend war das
Wasser und ich lag noch stundenlang auf der Wiese, las in einem Buch und
betrachtete die untergehende Sonne. Morgens stand schon immer Brot, Butter,
Marmelade, Wurst und Käse in der Küche zum Frühstück bereit, nur den Kaffee
oder den Tee mussten wir selbst aufbrühen was uns ganz recht war, konnten wir
doch so lange schlafen wie wir es wollten. Zwei mal in dieser Zeit fuhr ich
mit dem Mann und der Frau über Tags weg, einmal nach Vaduz und einmal nach
Österreich. Es war eine erholsame Zeit, doch als das Paar nach zwei Wochen mit
ihren Mädchen und zwei Jungs abreiste kam ich mir etwas verloren vor. Mit den
Männern aus dem Erdgeschoss wurde ich nicht warm. Vor allem verschwanden sie
regelmäßig abends ohne zu sagen wohin.
Nun der Urlaub war fast herum und in meinem Kopf meldete sich die Stimme die
mir gebot, mal nach meinen Jungs zu schauen. Es war am vorletzten Tag als ich
beim Frühstück eine Nachricht vom Bauern fand in dem er mich für den Abend
einlud. Meine Söhne hätten gute Fortschritte gemacht und ich könne gerne den
Erfolg anschauen.
Ich ging also zur gegebenen Stunde ins Haupthaus und wurde dort gleich in die
gute Stube geführt, die recht urig aussah. Die beiden Herren, die mit mir das
Austragshäuserl bewohnten waren auch da und saßen nebeneinander auf der an er
Wand befestigten Bank. So gar nicht reinpassen wollte der große Fernseher.
„Bitte nehmen sie dort drüben Platz,“ schob mich der Bauer neben die beiden
anderen Herren. Außer dem Hofbesitzer waren noch Egon und Erwin, die beiden
Erzieher oder Knechte oder wie auch immer anwesend.
„Ihre Jungen waren recht gelehrsam,“ begann der Bauer seine Rede. Sie
beherrschen nun alle Tricks um einen Erwachsenen, insbesondere einen Mann
glücklich zu machen, von den einfachen Techniken bis hin zu ausgefallenen
Spielweisen. Bitte haben sie dafür Verständnis, dass auf so manchem Po und
Rücken noch leichte Striemen zu sehen sind. Diese waren während der ersten
Zeit der Erziehung und für das Beibringen von SM-Techniken erforderlich. In
etwa zwei Tagen sehen sie nichts mehr davon. Bei den drei Jungen von Herrn
Kornmaier war zusätzlich noch die Spezialbehandlung geordert worden. Nachdem
der Arzt sie für tauglich gehalten hatte wurde die entsprechenden Operationen
durchgeführt.“
Er klatschte in die Hände und durch die Türe traten der Reihe nach alle fünf
Knaben. Meine drei Söhne und die beiden etwa 9 und 11 Jahre alten Jungen kamen
mit gesenktem Kopf herein. Auf den Armen trugen sie eine große Wurst- und
Käseplatte samt kräftig duftendem Schwarzbrot. Die Buben waren nackt. Bei den
diffusen Licht fiel es mir nicht gleich auf, doch als Thomas zu mir kam
glaubte ich meinen Augen nicht. Ich griff ihm, um es mir wirklich bewusst zu
machen, zwischen die Beine, doch da war nichts. Wo war sein kleiner Schwanz
geblieben, wo sein Hodensack?
„Die Operation ist doch gut gelungen. Der neue Ausgang für die Harnröhre ist
nun zwischen seinen Beinen. Schauen sie sich nur die Haut an. Man muss schon
genau hinsehen oder fühlen um die kleine Narbe festzustellen. Erstklassige
Arbeit. In zwei, drei Wochen merkt keiner mehr, dass Thomas mal ein Junge
war.“
Ich war wir vom Donner gerührt. Das war also die Spezialbehandlung, und jetzt
fiel mir auch ein, dass man männliche Ferkel kastriert damit die Hormone das
Fleisch nicht nach Moschus oder so schmecken lassen. Ich Idiot. Wollte ich
gerade noch hochfahren, was sie mit meinen Kindern gemacht hatten sackte ich
in mir zusammen. Würden das meine Söhne mir je verzeihen?
Doch Thomas sprach in seiner klaren Stimme zu mir: „Vati, darf ich dich
umarmen?“ Wortlos drückte ich seinen kleinen Körper an mich. Ich fühlte etwas
über meine Hose reiben, genau an der Stelle an er ein Mann für
Streicheleinheiten besonders empfänglich ist.
„Gefällt es dir so?“ fragte Thomas. „Ich will, dass du mich ganz lieb hast.
Darf ich deine Hose aufmachen und dich mit meiner Zunge und meinem Mund
verwöhnen?“
Was hatten die mit meinem Sohn angestellt. Ich erkannte ihn nicht wieder.
Nicht nur, dass sie ihn entmannt hatten, sie hatten ihm wohl noch eine
Gehirnwäsche verpasst.
Ich schaute nun auch nach Arno und Dieter. Beide hatten ihre Schwänze noch
aber darunter sah es leer aus, das heißt eigentlich sah es gar nicht aus, den
nicht nur die Hoden waren weg, auch die Säcke. Die schüchternen Schamhaare,
die ich vor zwei Wochen noch bei Dieter gesehen hatte, waren ebenfalls fort.
„So nun esst und trinkt erst mal. Hinterher zeigen wir euch, wie es den Buben
in den letzten knapp drei Wochen ergangen ist.
Ich bekam keinen Bissen herunter, dafür stürzte ich wohl zwei Maß Bier in
meinen Magen in dem es heftig brummelte. Damals war ich nicht fähig über die
Folgen nachzudenken. Wie wird es sein mit drei kastrierten Jungs zu Hause?
Irgendwann mussten sie mal zum Arzt und spätestens dann würde alles
Offenkundig werden. Was sollte ich sagen? Ein Unfall, eine Notoperation?
Vielleicht bei einem aber nicht bei allen dreien. Erst auf der Rückfahrt kam
es mir so richtig ins Bewusstsein und ich musste anhalten und hab wohl eine
viertel Stunde lang nur geheult, und hätten mich meine Jungs nicht so
getröstet ich säße vielleicht immer noch in einem Straßengraben. Doch sie
scheinen das als völlig normal hinzunehmen, als etwas das wichtig für sie ist.
Sie lieben mich trotzdem noch, oder sogar noch inniger als vorher.
Nach dem Vesper schaltete der Bauer den Bildschirm ein. Der Film begann mit
der Ankunft meiner Jungs. Nach der Analdusche am Ankunftstag wurden sie in
ihre Kabinen gebracht und ihre Köpfe zwischen die Metallpfosten eingeklemmt
wie das bei Kühen im Stall so üblich ist wenn sie gemolken werden sollen. Die
beiden Erzieher traten einzeln zu meine Söhnen, schmierten ihnen Fett auf den
Allerwertesten und schoben ihnen einen Plug hinein. Dabei ließen sie sich Zeit
um den Schließmuskel langsam zu weiten. Jedoch wurden ihre Hälse nicht
freigegeben.
„Die erste Nacht müssen alle so verbringen, damit sie danach gefügiger sind,“
erklärte der Bauer. „Der Plug, so wird den Jungen eingeprägt, muss bis zum
nächsten Morden drin bleiben.“
„Und wenn sie Durst bekommen oder Pinkeln müssen?“ fragte einer der Männer,
die auch zwei Knaben hier hatten.
„Zum Saufen brauchen sie nur ihre Nasen in die Becher stecken, dann kommt
schon Wasser heraus, und Pissen können sie in die Rinne unter ihnen.“
„Tut das denn nicht weh, so eine Teil im Hintern, und dann drückt der
Schließmuskel ihn sicher heraus,“ das war der andere der Herren.
„Wir wählen die Pluggröße genau passend aus. Der soll in der ersten Nacht
nicht zu fest spreizen. Natürlich müssen sich die Jungen auch anstrengen ihn
nicht zu verlieren, das ist ja gerade der besondere Reiz. In dieser Stellung
kann keiner Schlafen und ständig beschäftigen sie sich mit ihrem
Schließmuskel, damit sie nicht zu fest drücken weil’s dann weh tut oder zu
locker lassen um ihn nicht herausrutschen zu lassen.“
„Was wäre die Strafe gewesen wenn der Plug herausgerutscht wäre?“ frage ich.
„Dann hätten wir den Analstöpsel mit Tabasco eingestrichen und wieder
eingesetzt. Wer das einmal erlebt hat gehorcht dann.“ Daran zweifelte ich
nicht.
„Aber ihre fünf Jungs waren alle tapfer und haben sich am Morgen dafür bedankt
als wir sie befreit hatten,“ fuhr er fort. „Was ist der Sinn unseres
Trainings? Die Kinder müssen folgsam werden, alle Befehle ohne weiteres
befolgen, ja noch mehr, die Wünsche vorausahnen. Das ist aber nur ein Teil,
denn der andere ist die Vorbereitung auf ihre zukünftige Stellung als
Sexobjekt. Der Schließmuskel muss gedrillt werden und auch der Penis, vor
allem bei den Älteren, soll auf Befehl stehen. Bei den drei Jungen von Herrn
Kornmaier war das natürlich etwas anders durch die vorgenommenen
Kastrationen.“
Wie gut das Training gewesen sein muss wird mir schon in diesem Augenblick
klar. Während ich den Worten des Bauers und den Bildern auf dem Fernseher
gefolgt bin hatte sich mein Sohn Thomas zwischen meine Beine gekniet, meine
Hose geöffnet und lutschte an meinem Schwanz. Ich hätte geschockt sein sollen
von diesem Inzestanflug, doch der bearbeitete mich mit solchem Geschick, dass
alles in mir nach mehr rief. Wann hatte ich das letzte mal Sex gehabt, ich
meine mit einer Frau? Eben als meine Gattin noch lebte und das waren halt
schon vier Jahre her. Fürs Ausgehen, jemanden kennen lernen hatte ich keine
Zeit. Ich hätte mal in ein Bordell oder zu einer Prostituierten gehen können,
freilich, aber statt dessen beließ ich es dabei, mir in den einsamen Stunden
Nachts im Bett einen runter zu holen. Was dieses Kind da mit mir trieb
übertraf alles, was ich je mit irgendeinem Menschen erlebt hatte.
Die Filmbilder änderten sich.
„Der erste Tag. Die Jungen sind zwar übermüdet, nichts desto trotz muss man
sie an den Rand ihrer Leistungsfähigkeit bringen um sie zu brechen. Daher
lassen wir sie an ihrem ersten Tag Wasser schöpfen, nach ganz alter Methode.“
Die fünf Kinder waren zu sehen wie sie eine große Holzspindel immer wieder im
Kreis drehen, Runde um Runde laufen sie um die Mitte einer Hubspindel. Einer
von den Kids der anderen Männer stolperte, doch er wurde mitgeschleift da er
mit den Händen an die Holzspindel gebunden war. Schnell rappelte er sich
wieder auf.
„Nach 10 Stunden laufen, insgesamt etwa 35 Stunden ohne Schlaf und 24 Stunden
ohne Essen sind sie meist schon so weit alles zu tun was man von ihnen
verlangt, wenn sie nur zur Belohnung etwas leckeres in den Magen und ein
weiches Bett bekommen. Genau diese Situation nutzen wir aus für die ersten
Penetrierübungen – oh wie ich das liebe.“ Der Bauer, der da so freimütig
erzählte, war nun nackt zu sehen, ebenfalls seine beiden Gehilfen. Alle fünf
Jungen waren in ihren Boxen an die Stangen angekettet. Sie knieten am hinteren
Rand ihrer Liege, die Beine gespreizt, die Hände seitlich aufgestützt. Jetzt
waren auch die beiden Kerle, die bei mir im Austragshäuserl untergebracht
waren, zu sehen. Alle fünf Männer waren gut bis sehr üppig gebaut, ich meine
damit ihre Geschlechtsteile. Wie auf ein Kommando stülpten sie sich Kondome
über ihre steifen Schwänze, gingen in Stellung, drückten ihre Eichel an die
Schließmuskeln der Knaben und fuhren hinein. Wenigstens hatten sie für meinen
kleinen Thomas den Mann ausgesucht, der auch den kleinsten Pimmel hatte. Sie
fickten wild drauf los während die Jungen müde alles über sich ergehen ließen.
Vor ihnen stand schon ein Tablett mit warmem Essen, denn es dampfte noch. Wenn
ich bedenke, dass meine Kinder von diesen Kerlen vergewaltigt wurden.
„Das ist nicht ganz so schlimm wie sie es vielleicht denken,“ meinte der Bauer
zu mir gewandt. Scheinbar hatte ich mein Gesicht verzogen. Durch den Plug in
der Nacht vorher sind ihre Ärsche schon weich genug.“
Als die Kerle fertig waren steckten sie den fünfen einen Dildo in den Arsch
der etwa die Größe wie ihre Schwänze hatten. An diesen Kunststoffteilen waren
Lederriemen befestigt, die wie ein Slip angezogen wurden damit der Analstöpsel
weder ganz hinein noch herausrutschen konnte. Jetzt wurden die Jungen
losgebunden und hinter ihnen die Türen zu der jeweiligen Kabine verschlossen.
Müde waren sie aber der Heißhunger überwiegte. Nach dem Essen fielen alle wie
Tod auf die Seite und schliefen sofort ein.
„Der nächste Morgen beginnt mit Übungen zur Körperhygiene. So ein Spieljunge
muss natürlich immer bereit sein, dafür ist Reinlichkeit vor allem im
Analbereich wichtig. Die erste Lektion für ein selbständiges Leben als
Lustknabe ist also Waschen und Darmdusche. Nur Arno wollte nicht. Ihm hat der
letzte Tag noch nicht ganz gereicht.“
Wir sahen zuerst einige Knaben, wie sie sich reihum das Ende eines Schlauches
in den Hintern schoben, dann kam mein Mittlerer ins Bild. Er hängte an den
Füßen gefesselt an einer Winde. Das andere Ende des Stricks hielt der Bauer.
Langsam ließ er das Seil los und der 10-jährige Junge tauchte mit den Kopf
voraus in einen großen Trog voll Wasser. Nachdem auch seine Zehen verschwunden
waren zog er wieder an.
„Die Prozedur musste ich noch zwei mal wiederholen bis er folgsam seinen Darm
ausgespült hat,“ gab der Bauer an. „Ich liebe diese Knaben. Einer ist meist
dabei der sich wehrt und ihn zu brechen bereitet mir ein besonderes Vergnügen.
So und nun kommen wir zur Spezialbehandlung.“
Meine drei Jungen standen im allgemeinen Bereich des Kuhstalls und wurden, so
der Film, von einer mir unbekannten Person untersucht. Er schaute ihnen in den
Mund, hörte das Herz und die Lunge ab, prüfte ihre Reflexe und taste gründlich
ihre Geschlechtsteile ab.
„Für den Kleinen die Komplettlösung?“ sagte der Mann im Film. Ich erinnerte
mich an meine fatale Fehleinschätzung beziehungsweise wie der Bauer so
geschickt um den heißen Brei herumgeredet hatte.
Zuerst wurde Dieter auf einen schweren Holztisch gelegt. Er sagte nichts und
ließ sich eine Spritze in den Hodensack geben. Erst als der Arzt Handschuhe
überstreifte und diesen Bereich mit Desinfektionsmittel bestrich wurde er
unruhig.
„Es ist deine Pflicht,“ hörte ich die Stimme des Bauern aus dem Lautsprecher.
„Du wirst keinen Schmerz empfinden. Es ist nur eine kleine Korrektur, nichts
worüber du dir Sorgen machen müsstest. Oder willst du wieder 10 Stunden das
Wasserrad bedienen?“
Mein Sohn blieb ruhig, legte seinen Kopf nach hinten, schaute zur Decke und
ließ alles mit sich geschehen. Der Arzt setzte das Skalpell an, schnitt rechts
und links in die Sackhaut und stülpte beide Hoden heraus. Mit einer Nadel
fixierte er einen Faden den er sogleich um die Arterien, welche die Keimdrüsen
mit Blut versorgen und den einen Samenleiter verknotete. Das gleich machte er
auch am anderen Hoden. Ich hielt den Atem an als die Schere im
Scheinwerferlicht blinkte. Etwas zäh ging es aber dennoch so schnell, ich
meine das Abschneiden. Zwei kurze Augenblicke und mein Sohn war ein Eunuch.
Mit der gleichen Schere schnitt der Arzt am einen Einschnitt beginnend unten
herum die Haut lose bis er auf den anderen Spalt traf. Dann trennte er sowohl
von links wie auch von rechts den Sack nach oben ab bis er in der Hautspitze,
mit dem der Beutel am Penis festgewachsen ist, angekommen war. Sauber hatte er
Dieters gesamten Hodensack weggeschnippelt. Die Hautränder verödete er mit
etwas scheinbar heißem. Eine Salbe und ein Verband und schon konnte Dieter
wieder aufstehen.
Meine beiden anderen Söhne waren wohl im gleichen Raum gewesen und hatten
zugeschaut. Arno gebärdete sich wie wild, doch die beiden Erzieher oder
Knechte hielten ihn eisern fest. Er strampelte immer noch als sie ihn auf den
Tisch warfen. Der Arzt drückte ihm eine Spritze in den Hintern und nach
wenigen Augenblicken wurden seine Bewegungen fahrig. Er war noch bei
Bewusstsein nur hatte er scheinbar seinen Körper nicht mehr unter Kontrolle.
„Für deinen Aufruhr musst du bestraft werden,“ sagt des Bauers Stimme aus dem
Fernsehlautsprecher. „Deswegen bei dir die OP ohne Betäubung. Bist selbst
schuld wenn es schmerzt.“
Der Mann hatte noch nicht ausgeredet als Arno schon zu schreien beginn. Der
Arzt war mit dem Messer durch die Sackhaut. Was mein 10-jähriger Sohn nun
durchmachte war der Horror. Während des Auftrennens hatte er laut geschrieen,
bei dem Rausdrücken und Abbinden der Hoden jammerte er nur vor sich hin. Er
hob den Kopf um zu schauen, ließ ihn aber nach einigen Sekunden wieder fallen.
Sicherheitshalber hielten ihm die Beiden Assistenten des Bauern an Armen und
Beinen fest, doch die Spritze schien gut zu wirken. Gellend wurde sein
Brüllen, als sich die Schere durch die Samenleiter wühlte. Vorher bei Dieter
wirkte das alles noch irgendwie elegant, aber nun war es nur noch brutal. Wenn
ich mir vorstelle wie der Arzt meinem Arno bei vollem Bewusstsein und ohne
Betäubung die Sackhaut ringsum wegschnitt.
Mein kleiner Thomas war eigentlich immer brav gewesen. Obwohl das, was er sah,
schrecklich war, stieg er selbst auf den Tisch.
„Ist es so richtig?“ fragte er
„Ja, so machst du es gut. Dafür bekommst du auch eine Betäubung.“
Mir ist nicht ganz klar, warum er nicht aufbegehrte. War er schon psychisch
bearbeitet, hatte der Schlafentzug und die harte körperliche Arbeit ihn so
aufgeweicht alles zu tun, was ein Erwachsener von ihm verlangte? Ich kann mir
heute noch keinen Reim darauf machen. Jedenfalls spritzte der Arzt ringsum am
Sack, in den Schwanz und zwischen die Beine sein Narkosemittel. Die
Schlachterei begann, in dem er die Haut am Übergang vom Penis zum Bauch
durchtrennte, weiter mit seinem Skalpell herumfuhr um den Sack, und alles nach
oben wegzog. Der Hodensack und die Haut des Penisschaftes hinten nun über die
Eichel, die Hoden lagen lose zwischen den Beinen herab. Nach dem Abbinden und
Abschneiden der noch nicht entwickelten Hoden des 8-jährigen setzte er sein
Skalpell an der Unterseite des Penis an, dort wo die Beinfalte beginnt und
schneidet weit nach hinten bis wenige Zentimeter vor dem After. Er spreizt das
Gewebe. Ich erinnere mich nicht mehr an alle Details, jedenfalls löste er ein
Stück der Harnröhre ab und klammerte die nach hinten. Dann legte er den
gesamten Penis zwischen die Beine, auch den Teil der sonst im Körper liegt.
Schließlich hielt er Thomas Schwanz in voller Länge in die Höhe und sagt: „das
war’s.“
Das Nähen zeigten sie schon gar nicht mehr, dafür aber, wie sich die Bäuerin
den schüchternen Schamhaaren von Dieter widmete. Mit einer dünnen Nadel stach
sie seitlich neben jedem Haar in die Haut, drückte einen Schalter und das Haar
fiel aus, sicherlich für immer. Aber der glatte Bereich über seinem Penis
stand ihm vorzüglich.
Mir war schwindelig im Kopf und zwischen den Beinen durch die Liebkosungen,
die mein Junge meinem steifen Geschlechtsteil zugute kommen ließ. Dieter trat
hinzu und streichelte meine Brustwarzen während mir Arno ins Ohr flüstert:
„aber mich nimmst du als ersten.“
Den weiteren Film habe ich damals nicht mehr so richtig mitbekommen, habe mir
aber die Kopie, die ich bei der Abreise bekam, schon viele male angesehen. Die
Erziehungsmethoden waren recht einfach. Einer der anderen Jungen sprach
unaufgefordert, schon injizierten sie ein Betäubungsmittel in die Zunge die
ihm dann wohl einige Stunden lang im wahrsten Sinn des Wortes zum Halse
heraushing. Einfach, effektiv, schmerzlos und von dauerhafter erzieherischer
Wirkung. Alle Jungs wurden nun regelmäßig gefickt und die Dildos, die sie über
Nacht und manchmal auch tagsüber tragen mussten, nahmen an Dicke zu, bis die
Männer dazu übergingen, die kleinen Hinterteile mit ihren Fingern und Händen
zu malträtieren. Dieter war er erste, bei dem eine ganze Hand rein passte und
es erstaunt mich auch heute noch wie man einen Arsch in etwa 15 Tagen so weit
bringt. Vielleicht liegt es an der großen Elastizität und der schnellen
Regeneration des Gewebes bei Kindern.
Wir sahen auch Szenen, bei denen einige der Jungs an Pfähle gebunden, in
Ketten gelegt waren und von den anderen Buben versohlt, mit heißem Wachs
beträufelt, mit Nadeln gestochen und ausgepeitscht wurden. Doch dies war
scheinbar nicht Teil der Erziehung, die Mittel dafür hatte uns der Bauer ja
erläutert, sondern diente als Vorbereitung für ihre Sex-Dienste, um möglichst
umfangreich vorbereitet zu sein. Wie ich damals schon am eigenen Leib erfuhr
war das Training des Blasens und Leckens, Streicheln und Massierens umfassend
gewesen. Sogar das Ficken erlernten die beiden Jungs der anderen Männer, die
ja nicht kastriert worden waren. Die Bäuerin war eine versierte Lehrerin und
an allen drei Löchern offen für die Reibung von Jungenschwänzen.
Nachdem der Film zu Ende war zogen sich die Männer aus, alle, der Bauer, seine
Gehilfen und die beiden anderen Typen. Die Bäuerin kam herein und wippte mit
ihren mächtigen Busen. Ich zögerte noch. Der eindeutige Männerüberschuss
konnte nur auf Schwulitäten hindeuten mit denen ich bis dahin nichts
anzufangen wusste. Was für ein Quatsch. Thomas blies mich so herrlich, ich
liebte ihn sehr, und warum sollte ich meine Zuneigung nicht näher kund tun?
Also pellte ich mich auch aus meinen Klamotten, hatte gleich einen prallen
Frauenbusen im Mund und einen Knabenarsch vor meinem Rohr. Ich fickte meine
Söhne der Reihe nach durch, dann kurz die Bäuerin, fühlte einen Schwanz, der
sich in meinen jungfräulichen Hintern bohrte und von einem der anderen Knaben
stammte.
Doch die größte Katastrophe kam noch ab Abreisetag. Der Bauer überreichte mir
die Rechnung. Übernachtung und Training standen darauf wie vereinbart, doch
für den Spezialservice hatte ich vergessen nach dem Preis zu fragen. Woher
sollte ich nun die 8000 Euro nehmen. Damit hatte ich nicht gerechnet. Schön
standen für Dieter und Arno je 2000 und für Thomas wegen der Komplettlösung
4000 Euro. Auf der Bank hatte ich nicht so viel, mit dem nächsten
Gehaltsscheck und ein bisschen Rauszögern durch Kreditkartenbezahlen hätte ich
das vielleicht mit Ach und Krach hinbekommen, doch wovon dann die Miete für
die Wohnung bezahlen? Und einen Monat ohne Essen kommt man auch nicht aus. Ich
bat den Bauer um Stundung, doch er beharrte stur auf sein Recht. Einer der
beiden Männer, die ihre zwei Jungs auch zum Training hatten, machte mir einen
Vorschlag. Er wolle mir Arno, meinen Mittleren abkaufen. Ich war entrüstet,
redete etwas von Sklavenhandel. Er argumentierte, es würde dem Jungen bei ihm
gut gehen und er würde mir garantieren, dass er zu seinem 18. Geburtstag frei
kommt. Allerdings würde er arbeiten müssen und zwar in seinem Etablissement.
Er sei Eigentümer eines Kinderpuffs und die beiden anderen Jungs seien auch
neues Inventar. Die Abrichtungen hier auf dem Hof wären ja Exquisit weswegen
er alle Frischlinge hier her schicke. Ich weigerte mich. Wir redeten uns den
Mund franselig. Wir tranken ein Bier. Ich weigerte mich – eine Stunde, eine
zweite Stunde. Irgendwann gab ich nach als es schon dunkel wurde. Was hätte
ich denn anderes tun sollen? Etwa die Nacht durch im Freien rumstehen und
diskutieren obwohl sich doch nichts daran änderte?
Ich schlug aus seinen Deal ein. Er gab mir 10.000 Euro für den Jungen
abzüglich eines offiziellen Unfallberichts über den Tod meines Sohnes mit dem
ich ihn abmelden sollte. Dann sah ich mit Tränen in den Augen, wie Arno in das
fremde Auto einstieg.
Seither lebe ich mit Dieter und Thomas wieder zu Hause und bin eigentlich ganz
froh darüber, dass sie auch ein bisschen zum Unterhalt beitragen. Thomas ist
nun 9 und hat ein paar spendable Stammkunden. Er sieht aber auch wirklich zum
Anbeißen aus, und wo kann Mann sich schon von einen so hübschen und jungen
Eunuchen verwöhnen lassen?
„Vati, komm ins Bett. Ich möchte noch ein bisschen mit dir kuscheln,“ sagt
Thomas und Dieter meint: „aber heute fickst du mich, bitte, bitte!“
* * * |
Der Tierarztbesuch | TESTICLES | Eine Warnung an alle. Wenn eure Mutter oder eure Frau mit einer Katze zum Tierarzt gehen muss, dann bleibt lieber zuhause und begleitet sie nicht. Sonst kˆnnte euch das gleiche passieren, was mir letzte Woche passiert ist. | Der Tierarztbesuch
Seit ein paar Tagen ist meine Katze, ein junger Kater, sehr ver‰ndert. Wir
machen uns langsam sorgen. So haben meine Mutter und ich heute beschlossen,
dass wir mal zum Tierarzt fahren. Wir haben einen neuen direkt in unserem Ort.
Den Kater in die Kiste und ab geht es. An der Anmeldung ein bisschen
Papierkram und dann ins Wartezimmer. Es ist recht leer, und so werden wir nach
20 Minuten ins Sprechzimmer gerufen. Nach einem kurzen Augenblick kommt eine
recht attraktive Frau herein. Sie ist so um die 40 Jahre alt, blonde Haare und
eine super Figur. Sie stellt sich als Tier‰rztin vor. Ihr Name ist Frau Doktor
Monika.
Dann nimmt sie sich meinen Kater Felix vor und untersucht ihn gr¸ndlich. Sie
kann aber nichts Konkretes finden. Sie fragt uns ¸ber Felix aus, wo er sich
aufh‰lt, ob er Kontakt zu anderen Katzen hat und so weiter.
Nach ein wenig ¸berlegen hat sie dann eine Vermutung. Meine Katze leidet unter
ihrer Einsamkeit. Sie ist jetzt im besten Fortpflanzungsalter, kann ihren
nat¸rlichen Trieb aber nicht ausleben. Und da wir meine Katze nicht als
Freig‰nger nach drauþen lassen kˆnnen und auch keine zweite Katze anschaffen
wollen, schl‰gt sie uns vor, wir sollten Felix doch kastrieren lassen. Dann
w¸rde ihr Trieb nachlassen und sie w‰re wieder besser drauf.
Mich trifft der Schlag, diese geile ƒrztin schl‰gt vor, wir sollen meinen
Kater kastrieren lassen. Bei mir in der Hose f‰ngt es an zu brodeln. Es
herrscht einen Moment Stille. Meine Mutter hat sich ¸berlegt, dass es wohl das
Beste sei, und fragt Frau Doktor Monika, wann wir das denn machen lassen
kˆnnten. Monika antwortet, dass es von ihr aus, sofort gemacht werden kˆnnte,
das sei nur ein kleiner unbedeutender Eingriff.
Ich habe eine riesige Latte in der Hose, sie redet so geil ¸bers kastrieren.
Ich bin zwar mit meinen 16 Jahren noch recht unerfahren in Sachen Liebe, aber
wenn ich es mir so abends im Bett selber mache, habe ich schon gewisse
Vorstellungen. Und dabei gehen die M‰dchen oft recht hart mit mir um.
Meine Mutter hat sich entschieden und so bereitet Monika alles vor. Felix
bekommt eine Narkose und nach ein paar Minuten hat sie seinen Hodensack
geˆffnet und seine Hoden herausgeholt. Mit d¸nnen F‰den bindet sie seine
Gef‰þe ab. Dann nimmt sie eine Schere und trennt seien ersten Hoden ab. Meine
Hose ist richtig ausgebeult. Monika muss es wohl gesehen haben, denn sie
l‰chelt auf einmal so s¸þ. Dann fragt sie allen Ernstes meine Mutter, ob sie
den anderen Hoden abtrennen will. Zu meiner Ðberraschung sagt sie zu. Monika
reicht ihr die Schere. Dann sieht sie mich an, l‰chelt und trennt auch den
zweiten Hoden ab. Und genau in dem Augenblick, wo sie schneidet, geht mir
gewaltig einer in meiner Hose ab. Frau Doktor sieht, wie meine Hose feucht
wird und sagt es meiner Mutter. Diese regt sich gewaltig dar¸ber auf. St‰ndig
m¸sste sie mein Sperma aus meinen Klamotten und der Bettw‰sche entfernen. Das
w‰re eine riesen Sauerei. Mutter ist sehr erregt und schimpft weiter, doch
Frau Doktor Monika unterbricht sie. Sie schl‰gt doch allen Ernstes vor, dass
sie mich auch kastrieren lassen sollte, dann w¸rde das aufhˆren. Erschrocken
sehe ich meine Mutter an, sie scheint ernsthaft dar¸ber nachzudenken. Vor
Panik beginnt mein Schwanz schon wieder zu brodeln. Dann wird Mutter sehr
ruhig, ein L‰cheln legt sich auf ihr Gesicht und sie fragt die ƒrztin, wo man
das denn machen lassen kann. Frau Doktor Monika scheint sich sehr zu freuen,
denn sie l‰chelt jetzt gl¸cklich und sagt meiner Mutter, dass es kein groþer
Unterschied ist, eine Katze zu kastrieren, oder einen Mann. Gelegentlich macht
sie so etwas auch hier in der Praxis. Ich bin so erregt, dass ich gar nicht
richtig verarbeite, was hier abgeht. Normalerweise m¸sste ich weglaufen, aber
mich scheint das so zu faszinieren, wie die beiden dar¸ber reden, dass ich
wohl glaube, das sei alles nur Spaþ.
Mutter vergewissert sich noch einmal bei der ƒrztin, ob das wirklich helfen
w¸rde. Und diese erkl‰rt uns dann die Vorteile meiner Kastration. Das
wichtigste ist auf jeden Fall, das der st‰ndige Drang nach sexueller
Befriedigung aufhˆrt. Desweiteren w¸rde es wohl auch meine schulischen
Leistungen verbessern und mich allgemein ruhiger machen.
Mutter sieht mich nun sehr streng an und fragt mich, ob ich auch meiner
Kastration zustimme. Wie in Trance nicke ich leicht.
Frau Doktor Monika fordert mich sofort auf, mich zu entkleiden und ein paar
Augenblicke sp‰ter stehe ich nackt mit meiner riesigen Latte vor den beiden.
Ich muss mich nun auf den Tisch legen, wo vorhin mein Kater kastriert wurde.
Ich werde mit Lederriemen an Armen und Beinen festgebunden. So vorbereitet
liege ich nun da und warte auf mein Schicksal. Dann fragt Frau Doktor mich, ob
ich denn schon mal richtigen Sex hatte. Ich sch¸ttel den Kopf. Nun fragt sie
meine Mutter, ob ich denn vorher einmal richtigen Sex haben soll, oder
wenigstens noch einmal abspritzen darf. Den Sex lehnt meine Mutter ab, damit
ich nicht gar nicht erst weiss, was ich nie mehr haben werde. Mit dem
abspritzen ist sie aber einverstanden. Sie geht mit der ƒrztin in eine
zimmerecke und bespricht ganz leise etwas mit ihr. Beide lachen laut und
herzhaft und kommen zu mir zur¸ck. Nun f‰ngt Frau Doktor Monika an und reinigt
meinen Hodensack. Jetzt bekomme ich doch Panic, scheint es doch kein Spiel
mehr zu sein. Aber bevor ich etwas sagen kann, bekomme ich von Frau Doktor
einen Knebel in den Mund. Sie reibt meinen Sack mit einer Fl¸ssigkeit ein. Sie
soll ihn leicht bet‰uben. Dann nimmt sie ein Skalpell vom Tisch ˆffnet mir die
rechte Sackh‰lfte. Vorsichtig holt sie mein erstes Ei heraus. Dann nimmt meine
Mutter es in die Hand. Mit der anderen nimmt sie eine Schere. Frau Doktor
bindet nun die Gef‰þe zum Ei ab. Dann ergreift sie meinen steifen Schwanz und
beginnt ihn zu wichsen. Meine Mutter hat das Ei von mir gut im Griff und
dr¸ckt es zwischen ihren Fingern feste zusammen. Frau Doktor wichst meinen
Schwanz kr‰ftig weiter. Langsam merke ich wie ich zum Hˆhepunkt komme. Mutter
merkt es auch und dr¸ckt jetzt sehr feste auf das Ei. Dann kommt es mir. Genau
in dem Augenblick, wo ich abspritze, schneidet meine Mutter mir das Ei mit der
Schere ab.
Jetzt gˆnnen sie mir eine kleine Pause. Die ƒrztin n‰ht das Loch im Sack
wieder zu. Mit viel Angst im Gesicht, dass sie wirklich weiter machen, sehe
ich meine Mutter an. Doch statt mir ein Ei zu lassen, fragt sie die ƒrztin, ob
sie mir das zweite Ei zerdr¸cken darf. Sie w¸rde gerne erleben, wie sich das
anf¸hlt. Frau Doktor Monika stimmt zu. Nun geht es in die zweite Runde. Frau
Doktor wichst wieder meinen Schwanz und meine Mutter knetet mein letztes Ei.
Sie scheint dabei selber immer erregter zu werden. Frau Doktor merkt das und
hˆrt auf, meinen Schwanz zu wichsen. Stattdessen nimmt sie eine Hand meiner
Mutter und f¸hrt sie an meinen Schwanz. Nun wichst Mutter mich und quetscht
mir gleichzeitig mein Ei. Frau Doktor Monika stellt sich hinter meine Mutter,
hebt ihr den Rock hoch, ihr Hˆschen runter und beginnt ihr die Muschi zu
reiben. Mutter wehrt sich nicht, sondern wird immer erregter. Kr‰ftig quetscht
sie mein Ei. Es schmerzt tierisch. Dann bin ich fast wieder so weit. Mutter
quetscht mit aller Kraft das Ei. Ich komme gewaltig. Noch ein letztes mal
spritzt mein Sperma aus meinem Schwanz. Und dann zerplatzt mein Ei. Mutter hat
es mit ihrer Hand zerquetscht. Sie hat mich komplett kastriert, ihren eigenen
Sohn. Aber auch sie hat jetzt einen super Orgasmus. Sie schreit auf und zuckt
wild umher. Frau Doktor hat es ihr richtig heiþ besorgt.
Durch die Schmerzen bin ich in Ohnmacht gefallen. So bekomme ich gar nicht
mit, wie die ƒrztin mir die Eiermatsche aus dem Sack holt und die Wunden
versorgt.
Abends beim Abendbrot erz‰hlt sie dann, das auch unsere zweite Katze Paule zum
Arzt muss. Diesmal bittet sie Papa sie am n‰chsten Tag zu begleiten.
* * * |
The Prince of Slaves Chapter 8 | MINOR | Megan's mother disowns her, causing unforeseen consequences.<BR><BR><A href="http://slammr.com">http://slammr.com</A> | ` `
_**Chapter8:**_
Her mother repudiated her, saying she no longer had a daughter, resigning
Megan to the status of a commoner.
_
At least, I can fuck Dylan or Emrys as Megan now_ , Braith thought. _If I'm no
longer of noble blood, there's no proscription against it. Megan can fuck
anyone, commoner or noble. She will never have a child by Emrys, but she can
fuck him._
As Megan, she was content to live at Caerforon instead of the palace, whether
with Emrys or Dylan. She was content to be a commoner, if she could have him.
She tried to change into Megan -- but couldn't.
Braith had lost his magic. Apparently, the God had also repudiated Megan when
her mother had. He couldn't change at all, not even back to the beautiful
jilly boy. He was Braith, attractive, but speckled with freckles.
But, what about Dylan? He was at Caerforon -- as Dylan. Without magic, how
could Braith change Dylan back into the prince? As it turned out, he couldn't.
"You've lost your magic?" asked Dylan.
"Yes," said Braith. "When my mother repudiated me, the God deserted me, too."
"And, you can't change me back?"
Braith tried, but couldn't. "No, he said, "I can't. I no longer have any
magical powers." He started to cry. "What a mess I've made of everything. I
wouldn't blame you for throwing me out. I didn't think she would repudiate me
and didn't think the God would, too, if she did. What are we going to do?"
"I don't know," said Dylan. "I can't go back to the palace as Dylan. Even the
God doesn't recognize me thus. He put his arms around the boy. We've made our
bed," he said. "I guess we'll have to lie in it."
"But whatever I give up," she said, "you give up so much more. You give up a
kingdom."
"Emrys gave up a kingdom when he decided to become Dylan. I've been far
happier as Dylan than I ever was as Emrys. At least, now I don't have to marry
Wynne of Kidwelly."
"But look at me," said Braith. He was bald and freckled. "I'm not even an
attractive jilly boy any longer. Glendower's beauty exceeds mine. Perhaps you
will prefer him now to me, especially after what I've cost you."
"Never," said Dylan, "I love you, Braith or Megan. I love who you are."
"You love me even bald and with freckles." Braith certainly didn't feel
attractive.
"I love you bald and freckled. Besides, I'm bald, too, and the hair will grow
back, though I prefer not to let it. It's nice to be free of lice."
"Will you make love to me?" Braith asked. "I need the reassurance that you
still desire me, knowing I'll always be a boy."
"Dylan kissed him, then lay him on the bed. Braith raised his legs. Dylan
knelt on the bed, his cock pressed against Braith's hole, then thrust his cock
into his hole, holding the tops of Braith's thighs as he thrust.
Braith moaned, rubbing his tits as he did. He had breasts. They were small,
but were bigger than those of an uncut boy; and they were sensitive. He could
almost orgasm just from rubbing them.
Dylan fucked him, not once, but several times. It was a way to forget that he
was no longer the prince.
He had been happy being Dylan, but had known at any time he could once again
be the prince. Too, Dylan had no money. It was the prince, who had bought
their house and had paid for their food.
Without fathers, they couldn't even find work.
Sons of merchants and tradesmen followed their fathers. Sometimes a childless
father would adopt a son to follow him in his trade, but he usually adopted a
nephew or second son of a friend.
Surplus sons joined the army, emigrated, or were sold into slavery.
When the money ran out, they could either give up their balls and become
slaves or return to the market. For now, though, they still had a house and
money -- not much -- but enough for a month or two.
* * * |
The Burdizzo | TESTICLES | This is a a tale of erotic adult fiction, and should not be posted to sites where minors are likely to view it. It deals with the unwilling castration of a male by a burdizzo clamp. It never happened, and all names of all characters are fictional. If you enjoy the read, I'd enjoy knowing so. This story may not be copied or reproduced or reposted elsewhere without the author's consent. -Nathan | `
The Burdizzo
It's all true, all of it. Last year, at nineteen, I got castrated, and I don't
know even now who did it to me. I've got my ideas of course, but the problem
is that there are a lot of possibilities. Way too many actually. I guess I
should have seen it coming, the way I was acting, but I didn't, and so, well,
now that its been done there isn't much I can do about it. I know somewhere
somebody's laughing their ass off, but I don't know who, and I guess I never
will.
Shit it hurt! When it did happen I screamed and struggled and begged. Still,
they nutted me, and I knew it was happening and yet I was totally powerless to
do anything about it. They were big men, and I had never seen them before, and
yet they didn't waste any time and they didn't take very long.
Perhaps it was Kathy whats-her-name's husband that searched me out? I guess it
could have been him, and he sure wasn’t happy when he found out his wife had
been cheatin' on him. But hell, I was only fourteen when she rode my pole that
first time, and since that was my first fuck it really wasn't my fault. I was
just a paper boy, and she had come onto me. I was scared shitless, that much I
remember, but she had shown me her tits and I had stared at them and it had
all gone from there. She let me feel em, and then after that she went down on
her knees and undid my pants. God!
Yeah...fourteen, and she gave me an afternoon I'll never forget. More than one
actually. In fact, a lot of afternoons were spent with her, learning out to
fuck a pussy and to do it right. Yeah, she sucked me, sucked me off more than
a dozen times, and I fucked her and she road me and I squirted my teenage load
into her so many times. Yeah, it was just a great time for a young teenage
guy, and I would have done the paper route for free after I started fucking
her. But eventually her husband caught onto it, and then when he caught me,
well, when he walked into that bedroom while I was pumping my teenage cock
into his wife's dripping vagina, all hell broke loose. God. Yeah...he was sure
pissed, and he had grabbed a knife then and chased me around that house,
yelling he was going to cut off my balls when he caught up with me. Needless
to say, I never dared to show my ass around there ever again!
Then there was Mary Wayenword, and her brother told me flat out he'd nut me.
Yeah...he caught on to me when I was doing his sister and I remember at the
time that I thought he really would do it too. So, yeah, perhaps it was him
that made it happen. It could have been, might have been too. He was sure
pissed when I fucked his sister. But hell, she wanted it, yeah, begged for it
really, and her pussy was tight and it was fun to pop her cherry. I was only
fifteen when I did her, but after having a married woman suck and fuck you for
months, I knew what I was doing at fifteen and after that I dated with a
purpose. God....yeah, it could have been her brother, and I guess that's not
unlikely.
Or, it might have been Linda Johnson's family. That's a good possibility, for
sure. They had some shady relatives I think, and the goons that did me might
have been part of that group for all I know. Yeah, I got her pregnant when she
was thirteen. I was sixteen and a half at the time, and she was the first fuck
where I sorta pushed my way into her. She had resisted, and was really scared
but I talked her into it, and then after that I fucked her about ten more
times over a several week period. Like I said, I was sixteen then, and should
have used a rubber. But hell, I was too embarrassed to buy one at that age,
and I figured she was too young to get pregnant. But I was wrong about that
and she did, and after that things went to shit and I was in all kinds of
trouble. Technically it was rape, with the three year differences in our ages
and all, but my dad had some pull and so I didn't get prosecuted and not much
really happened in the end. I don't know if she ever had the kid or not, but
she disappeared from school, that much I remember, and her parents were pissed
and her brother went ballistic. He swore if he ever got the chance he'd make
me a eunuch, so, yeah, it could have been from that, might have been even,
although that was years ago so I don't know.
In the years since there were scores of others, and some of the girls I did in
my junior and senior years I never even learned their names. Yeah, if they had
a pussy I'd fuck it, or at least try to, and I got known around the school for
that, if for nothing else. I went through a stage where I would fuck a girl
and then dump her, making a game of it, and then do it again with another one
the very next weekend. It was a thrill, and it was a lot of fun to fuck a
different pussy every weekend. For a while I even kept a notebook, and I rated
the girls and how wet they were, and who would suck and who would not. I used
to get calls from some of the guys, wanting to know who was hot and who was
willing, and I was soon the resident high school twat expert. Yeah, it might
have come from those days, and lots of people knew I fucked a lot of girls,
and dumped them afterwards, and I suppose it's possible someone decided I
needed to be stopped. So, yeah, it might have been that behavior that got me
nutted.
Or, it is just as likely that it might have been Billy Stinson. Yeah, he was
so fucking embarrassed and he was sure mad enough that I could almost
understand him wanting me done. He was the only guy I ever pissed off to the
point he would have wanted me castrated, but I pushed him pretty far and he
threatened to pay me back someday. He was a punk really, and he had pissed me
off, and we got into a fight. I beat him, while a lot of guys were rooting us
on, watching us fight and wrestle. I finally got his left arm up behind his
back, high up, and then, right in front of about ten guys, I unbuckled his
pants and opened his jeans. Then, reaching in his fly, I pulled out his cock
so everyone could see. I remember looking at his dick, sticking out of his
pants, and he screaming like all hell had broken lose when I exposed him in
front of the others. Then, well, for whatever reason I'll never know, I jerked
his left arm higher up his back, and he screamed from the pain of it. I told
him I'd break his arm if he didn't jerk himself off, and while he resisted I
twisted his wrist back on itself and eventually the pain was so great that I
got him to do it. God that was funny! Yeah, I forced that boy to pump his meat
and squirt his jism. I was a senior when I did that, while he was a junior,
and afterwards he was so humiliated I think he wanted to die. Yeah, I'll never
forget me twisting his arm back and threatening to break it right off if he
didn't grab that young cock of his and give us a show. He had begged me, but I
made him do it in spite of his begging, and he cried and begged and his face
turned red. Still, in the end, I twisted his fucking arm so bad that he just
couldn't stand it, and so he had done it, right there while all those guys
laughed and jeered. Shit. He squirted a hell of a wad too! Afterwards he was
oh-so-pissed, and as I said he swore revenge, so it might have been him that
had me done.
Then there was the senior prom, where I met Molly, the twat from Alabama that
sucked my rod and gave me Gonorrhea. Hell, I didn't even know you could get a
disease that way, but fuck, it had happened sure as shit, and of course I
didn't figure out what was going on before I had fucked Terresa and Mellissa
and Linda Klaster. Yeah, I gave it to all of them, and that really got me in
hot water of course. Luckily, the doctors had a cure for that, and with enough
penicillin they got my dick to stop oozing puss. And they cured the girls too,
but even so Terry swore she would make me pay, and Mellissa's brother promised
to cut my balls off if he ever got the chance. And Linda Klaster's father was
more pissed than any man I've ever seen, and he just looked like the type that
would make you pay. So I guess in reality it could have been any one of them
that paid someone to have me done.
I should have slowed down after that I suppose, but hell, as a freshman in
college there were so many willing girls that I couldn't have stopped myself
even if I had wanted to. College girls are hot as shit, and their tits are
firm and nice and their shaved pussy's are hungry and eager. I nailed one girl
after the other right up until the time I got nutted, and I suppose looking
back it could have been any one of them who caused my demise. I don’t know all
of their names now, but I sure fucked them, and I loved the feeling of pumping
my ten inch boner deep into their twats. Sometimes I would fuck two in a
night, and that was always interesting if they found out. God they would get
pissed then! Still, what-the-hell, I didn't really care what they thought
afterwards, and my balls were always ready and my cock was always eager.
I wish I knew who had me castrated! I guess there is another possibility too,
and it is just as viable as any other. Yeah, I have to admit that I also date
raped more than a few girls, although looking back on it that's not something
I'm especially proud to say. But hell, some girls are a tease, and sometimes
they would pretend that they didn't really want me in their pants, but I found
out that usually I could insist and get what I wanted. It's the old question,
when does "no" mean "yes" and "yes" mean "no?" Sometimes I was pretty
insistent, probably when I shouldn't have been. Yeah, I'll admit I fucked a
few that begged me not to even as I was pumping into them, and yet they never
said anything afterwards and just got quiet after I had filled my rubber with
jism and pumped out my wad with my dick buried deep in their pussy. A few were
pretty pissed off, for sure, but most of them just got quiet, or cried a
little, and so if they were pissed off they didn't let me know. Still, I know
more than a few weren't too pleased, so it could have been one of them that
decided to have me nutted.
The last girl I fucked was Mellisa Santo, a hot Latino with a body to die for.
God she was tight, with firm tits that were like big melons just begging to be
handled. She was one of the sexiest girls I ever laid, and God she could suck
a cock too! She sucked me off like a vacuum cleaner, and then right afterwards
pulled me to her, kissing me and holding me and encouraging me until I got
hard again. As soon as I did she spread her legs and opened them wide, and
then I fucked her like there was no tomorrow coming. She begged me as I was
doing her, yelling "That's it! FUCK ME DEEP! YEAH! GIVE IT TO ME! FUCK ME WITH
THAT COCK OF YOURS!" As she encouraged me and screamed for more, she clawed at
my back and talked her sexual talk the entire time I penetrated her pussy. As
she begged for it I literally rammed my cock in and out of her cunt, and she
loved every minute and savored every thrust. In the end we both came at the
same time, her screaming out at the top of her lungs as I ejaculated my
teenage wad.
I know of course that I was pushing the edge, with a lot of girls, but I don't
think that means that I deserved to get castrated because I like to fuck a hot
girl now and then. Still, I guess it doesn't matter now. The truth is that I'm
nineteen and I've been castrated all right, and it certainly wasn't any
accident. So, yeah, somebody somewhere was pissed enough to have me neutered,
that much is a certainty. And I'm sure they are laughing now, knowing they
took my balls and ended my manhood right at the time I was enjoying it the
most. Shit. At nineteen I was a sexual animal, living for pussy in a way, and
for some reason somebody somewhere decided I had had enough. It was
intentional for sure, and whoever did it definitely wanted me de-sexed and
sterile. So, yeah, on the night I got nutted there wasn't any doubt they had
come with that purpose, and once I had been done then they left with a grin.
It was a Saturday night when it happened. I was in my dorm room, and my queer
roommate had gone home for the weekend, so I had the room to myself. I have a
four CD-changer, and I was playing Metallica music full out, like I often did
on the weekends, and was sitting in my room looking at a Penthouse magazine
and imagining myself fucking the hot women that filled the pages and seemed to
be asking for it. Then, unexpectedly, I heard a banging on my door. I figured
it was some shit-head down the hall complaining of the noise, but when I
opened the door it wasn’t that at all.
The two guys didn't initially say a single word. They had black stockings over
their faces with eye holes cut out, and latex gloves on their hands, and when
I opened the door they barged right in, one of them punching me square in the
face and catching me totally off guard. I staggered backwards and tripped,
hitting the floor, totally stunned. They slammed my door, and locked it, and
then they dragged me to my bed and tied my two wrists to the headboard before
I even had time to figure out what was happening. They were big men, in their
thirties at least, and they definitely were there with a purpose. God I fought
them then! Although my wrists were tied out my legs were free, and I kicked
and jerked and fought with all I had. It didn't make much of a difference
though. As the music played on they took off my belt and pulled off my jeans,
and then my boxers, and when I started to scream they stuffed my shorts in my
mouth and put some duct tape around my head to hold them in place. That shut
me up of course, and I totally panicked then, but all I could do was scream
into my shorts, and over the music nobody could hear my thrashing or my
muffled calls for help.
Then they paused for a couple of minutes while I grunted out my protests, and
rifled through my jeans and then my wallet. They fished out my student ID, and
checked my name, and when they read that they laughed. One of them said
"Yeah....it's him. Let's get it done."
They tied out my ankles next, so I was spread eagled on my bed, my legs wide
apart and my package on display. They ripped my t-shirt off next, and after
that I was totally naked. Then one guy just climbed up on my bed then and sat
right down on my legs. He was a big man, and solid muscle, and he smelled of
BO and seemed to be sweating. As I watched and yelled at him, screaming into
my underpants, he took a small bottle of baby oil and poured it over my cock,
and then he wrapped his fist around my dick and started to pump it up and
down. I bucked my hips and jerked and thrashed against the restraints, but it
was useless, and they knew how to tie the knots and I was trussed out well. I
had never had a guy touch my dick, much less jerk it, and the experience was
totally shocking. I couldn't believe it but I got rock hard, and I guess in
reality it only took a few minutes for his oil slicked fist to fuck my cock.
Yeah, scared as I was my dick went rigid and after that it wasn’t long before
he had milked out my load. I threw my head back as I ejaculated, and they
laughed then, and that's when the other one of them said "There he
goes......that's it! Pump him dry! Make sure his balls are empty and he shoots
all his sperm. He needs to be totally sterile after we do him."
Right after I shot my wad and the big man had milked my dick until I was
totally spent, I saw the clamp. I knew it wasn't good as soon as I saw it,
even if I didn't know for sure what it was for. It was a huge pair of
pinchers, like a big set of pliers, and just looking at them sent the fear
right through me. I had never seen a burdizzo, but I knew as soon as I saw
that one that it wasn't something that I wanted to have used on me. They
laughed though when I saw it, and the bigger of the two men said this to me:
"This is just for you dude. Just for you. In a few minutes your fucking days
are gonna be over."
WHAT THE HELL?!!??! God...I fought then, screaming into that gag, but there
was nothing I could really do. They laughed at my spunk, and seeing it there
and knowing it had been milked out of me against my will was totally
humiliating. My stomach was wet with my cream and it was a big load of goop.
All I could do was just sit there stretched out and helpless and wait, my load
of spunk slick on my belly and there for all the world to see. I raised my
head up, straining to watch, my eyes wide and begging, my face beet red with
the embarrassment of being naked and used.
The other guy put my pillow, and my roommate's too, under my head, propping me
up so-to-speak so I could watch what they were doing to me. They took the
clamp, and started feeling around my scrotum, searching out the spermatic
cords that fed my nuts. I strained against the ropes trying to pull my legs
together, but it was useless, and so all I could do was just stare as I felt
that man working on my sac. Soon he had my right nut where he wanted it,
holding it in his fingers, and I bucked my hips, my eyes wide with fear, and
yet even so there was nothing I could really do but watch and live the
experience.
I felt him pinch the cord above my right testicle, just as he said to his
cohort: "OK...I've got it. Get the clamp." Once he had isolated the cord that
fed my ball he was grinning, and then I could feel him holding it. The other
man took the clamp and then placed it carefully up and under my cock, right at
the top of my nut sack and so that the jaws of that pair of pinchers were
positioned right over that ball cord. I could feel him doing it, feel those
jaws, and looking at the handles I screamed like a madman. When he took them
in his hand he was grinning, and then he leaned forward to make sure I could
hear him, and then he said "Hang on boy.....I'm about to kill your right
ball."
And then he did! GOD IT HURT! He didn't give me any other warning, but just
slammed those handles closed and squeezed with all his might. I bucked my hips
and grunted into my gag, and thrashed my head back and forth and jerked
against the ropes that held me helpless. I almost passed out it hurt so bad,
but somehow I didn't. I don't know how long he held those jaws closed, but it
was quite a while. I never really felt him open them, so much as felt the
pressure change, and then almost immediately he was working on my other nut.
Oh GOD I screamed and begged! They were grinning as they were nutting me,
laughing at my struggles and seemingly enjoying every moment of what they were
doing. I felt him fishing around my sac of balls, and it felt different than
it had just moments before. There was a numbness there now for one thing, and
the pain in my groin was a deep ache after what they had already done to me. I
had my head up and was shaking it side to side, my eyes wide open as they
positioned the clamp again and got the jaws just where they wanted them. One
of the men was holding my balls, stretching out the top of my nuts so they
could find the other cord and get the clamp into the proper position. They
were very methodical about what they were doing, and as I watched it all I
could do was scream in disbelief. The panic I felt was total, and I jerked and
thrashed and screamed. That just made them laugh more though, and they
definitely enjoyed watching me squirm.
Finally, they had the jaws of that burdizzo where they wanted them, and I
could feel them right up against the top of my left ball. I was shaking my
head side to side then, my eyes wide open with fear. The man holding the
handles leaned forward again, until he was inches in front of my face, and
then he said "Hang on dude, one more time. I'm about to kill your left ball
now, and when I do your days of being a teenage fuck-stud will be over."
My oil soaked dick was laying across my belly and pointing up at me as I was
looking at it. The hardness of my earlier erection was still partially there,
my prick still semi-stiff and thick the way it is when it's not quite done.
Still it was just laying there, spent, the wet tip pointing up at me and out
of the way of what he was doing. I remember looking at it as he was about to
squeeze the handles, and I had the thought that without my balls to feed it my
dick probably wasn't going to boning up much in the future.
As I was looking at it, and him, he slammed those jaws closed again, and I
arched my back and yelled like there was no tomorrow coming. I felt my dick
spasm, and this shooting pain went right through my scrotum, and I almost
vomited. I felt the bile, felt the pain, and then I looked back down and
stared into the eyes of the man holding those handles, watching him stare at
me as he crushed my last spermatic cord. My dick spurted out another wad from
I don't know where, just pulsating out three long shots of white goo. They
shot out like ropes from the tip of my cock and ran up and across my stomach.
Three shots, one-two-three, and they all went across my stomach and half way
up my chest and the first of the three almost struck me in the chin. I grunted
it out, and as I was doing so I knew right then it was my last and final load.
He was grinning as he was nutting me and watching me shoot, his eyes sparkling
with excitement as he finished my unmanning. Finally, after what had to have
been close to a minute, and with my dick spent and empty, he opened the jaws
and examined my scrotum.
There was this tremendous ache in my nuts, and a deep numbness too, and I knew
right then that I had been injured seriously and my only thought at that point
was that I needed to get to a hospital. Right away my spent dick started to
shrivel to a nub, almost like it was trying to hide. They spent several
minutes checking the two crush marks that were pressed into my sac, and then,
finally, satisfied, they put the device away and gave me a friendly pat on my
thigh. The other man slid his finger across my stomach, scooping up a big wad
of my cream, and as he did he said "Nice wad kid....that's quite a load. I
sure hope you enjoyed it, cause it's your last one. Don't bother with hormone
shots....we want you to have a limp dick, and if you fuck again, ever, and we
find out about it, we'll come back and take your dick next time. I hope you're
not that stupid." As he said the last word, he put his finger in his mouth,
and licked off my spunk like it was sweet nectar. Then, after he had sucked it
clean, he looked to his cohort and licked his lips. Then he said "I love the
taste of a teenager's last wad. There's nothing quite like it."
They both laughed then. With that, having nutted me, they were finished with
their business and they didn't hang around. Instead, they then just opened my
door and peered out into the hall, and seeing that the coast was clear, they
walked out and closed the door and that was the last time I ever saw either of
them. I struggled again, pulling hard against my restraints, but I couldn't
get loose and there was nothing I could do but just lay there and feel the
ache grow across my groin. I knew something bad had been done to my nuts, and
as I lay there shaking it was so damn frustrating to be unable to do anything
about it.
About ten minutes later the CD player finished playing the last CD, and after
that I just lay there in silence and screamed into my gag for help. My mouth
was stuffed with my shorts though, and so all I could really do was make a
muffled grunt really, and I knew nobody could hear me, and nobody did.
Eventually I gave up, and just lay there after that, totally defeated and
whimpering with the feeling of loss that was so deep it can't really be
described. It was a terrible feeling, and I just looked at my ruined nuts and
limp dick laying like a wet piece of spaghetti, and that's how I spent the
rest of the night. With my head propped up I could see my dick, and over the
hours that followed I watched my last load of spunk dry up and my scrotum
swell. It turned fucking purple, and I knew then without any doubt that my
balls were gone and my days of fucking girls were over. I lay there a very
long time feeling totally sorry for myself. When the sun came up in the
morning I was still awake, still stretched out with my legs spread and my
purple balls hurting like hell. I lay there all day too, hearing noises in the
hall but unable to make enough noise myself to get anyone's attention.
Finally, about four in the afternoon, my roommate came home, and of course he
freaked out when he opened the door and saw my balls. He was just screaming in
that fag voice of his after that, but hell, even so he hung in there and
stayed with me and got me to the hospital.
The police asked me a lot of questions of course, but I really couldn’t' tell
them about all of my fucking, that much was for sure. For one thing, I'd
probably have gone to jail if they knew all the women I had forced my dick
into, and if they started questioning them I was as good as incarcerated. So,
well, I told them just a part of the truth, that I had no idea who had done
this, or why, and while I gave them a description I hadn't really seen the
mens' faces and so I knew that it wasn't going to go very far.
As for the doctors, well, they told me the news I already knew, that my balls
were history and I had been unmanned. They said that both of my testicles had
died, and that my sperm producing days as a male were over. They also didn't
want to leave them in my sac, and said there was a real risk that they could
turn to gangrene if I didn't have them out. God. So, well, I'm nutless now, a
total eunuch, and while the doctors talked about hormone therapy after my
castration, I opted to skip it. For one thing, it was expensive as hell, and
for the other, the threat of losing my dick seemed pretty real to me and I
opted not to go that route.
So, if there is a lesson here, it's to be careful, and to watch who you take
to bed, and when. I miss the girls, in a way, but not as much as I thought I
would. The strange part is that my gay roommate has seemed to take a real
liking to me after I lost my nuts. He loves the way my dick stays soft now,
for one thing. I'll guess I'll be honest and admit that I'm probably going to
let him have my hole too. He wants it, for sure he does, and right now I'm
thinking that I might as well give it to him. Who would have thought?
[Authors note: © Copyright March, 2005. All rights reserved. Not to be copied
without the consent of the author. Feedback always appreciated.
[email protected]]
* * *
` |
The Milking Farm - Part 2 | GAY, PENECTOMY, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION | A fantasy about bondage, milking, shaving, nullification, and slavery. | The Milking Farm - Part 2 by the Milk Man
The voice began to list the requirements of the farm which he said
were completely non-negotiable.
1. A contract must be signed after which I will have no choices as
to my fate.
2. I will be naked at all times.
3. I will never be allowed to masturbate or touch my private parts.
4. I will be kept bound in some form at all times.
5. My body will be totally depilated.
6. The daily schedule for me will be as follows:
Several milkings daily until daily quota is reached
All time between milkings will be spent bound to my binding
bench
Nutrients (with special semen production enhancers) will be
available at all times through
tube attached to binding table
Bathroom duties followed by an enema will preceed all milkings
An appropriately sized butt plug will be in place at all times
except for during bathroom
duties
Body will be modified as needed including possible penectomy,
castration, piercings, etc.
When daily milking quotas are not met for a period of time,
will be required to perform other
duties such as being a milker - may be sold as slave
Following the reading of this list of requirements, the voice asked
me if I needed a drink. Boy, did I. The voice held a glass of
water and I drank it completely. Then, the two guys who
brought me here were called and I was taken to what would be my
cell and bound on my binding bench to make my decision and
contemplate the events up to this time.
The bench was about the same size as a weight bench. It was waist
height and I was made to lay on my stomach. My cock and balls hung
down through a cut out part at the end of the bench. My legs were
bound to the bench legs, my arms were bound to the legs on the
other end and a wide strap was buckled around my chest to hold me
securely. A penis gag was placed in my mouth with the same hood
that was on me before over it. It was laced tightly and my head was
bound, face down, to a special head board which stuck out from the
other end of the bench. There was hole in the head board so that
my face was not smashed against it. I could not move anything but
my cock began to grow.
Of course, my mind was totally overwhelmed by all the activities of
the last few hours. I didn't know if I really sign the contract
because life would never be the same nor would I have any
control over it. But, my cock was getting harder and harder and I
began to really need to cum. The longer I lay there, unable to
move, my cock got harder and harder and I wanted to cum more
and more. Finally, I decided that I would do anything to get to
cum - I couldn't help myself - all I wanted was to cum. I think I
must have gone to sleep or passed out or something but all of a
sudden I was being shaken and I heard the voice asking if I was
ready to sign the contract? My cock was huge and totally in
control of me and was being gently played with. A hand removed
the hood and penis plug so I could answer. All I could say
was, "Yes, yes, yes, please yes." My right hand was released so I
could sign the paper which was held for me. As soon as I signed the
paper, my hand was rebound, the penis gag was reinserted in my
mouth, and, instead of the hood, a head harness was buckled in
place. Of course, I was now really devastated because I felt
sure I would be milked as soon as I had signed the paper. But that
was not to be. Instead, a butt plug was shoved up my hole until it
popped in place and I was left alone.
I don't know how long I laid there after signing the contract but
finally someone came in I thought I would finally be released.
However, the butt plug was removed and replaced with a
small tube and soon I felt my gut being filled with warm water. A
voice told me to relax and let it fill me. A hand rubbed my
stomach and the water kept flowing in. Finally, it stopped, my
bindings were all released, and I was taken to the commode where I
was allowed to expell the liquid. It came out quickly and as soon
as I finished, the butt plug was reinserted, my arms were
folded and bound behind my back, a leash was attached to my collar,
and I was led to the milking room. In the milking room, I was
taken to a milking stall where my arms were unbound,
I was made to get on all fours, place my head between verticle
steel rods which were moved close around my neck, and wait to be
milked. I wondered if it would be a machine or manual. It
wasn't very long before that question was answered. I couldn't
believe what happened next! |
Hereingelegt oder die Rache einer Ehefrau | NULLIFICATION | Vor ca. 15 Jahren, ich war 40 Jahre alt, befand ich mich auf einer Dienstreise
als ich eine Wunderschöne Junge Frau kennenlernte. Sie war gerade 22 Jahre alt
wunderschön, intelligent und mit einer Traumfigur. Ich erlebte etwas was ich
nicht mehr für möglich gehalten hätte, ich verliebte mich in Sie und Sie in
mich. Sie wurde meine Geliebte und wir verlebten 4 Wunderbare Jahre voller Sex
miteinander. Das verhältniss endete als meine Frau durch einen Zufall dahinter
kam. Nachdem meine Frau hinter das Verhältniss gekommen war herschte 8 Wochen
lang dicke Luft zu Hause, in der 9 Woche sagte Sie mir bei einem Gespräch das
Sie sich entschlossen hat sich nicht scheiden zu lassen
sondern das Sie wegen unserer Tochter bei mir bleiben würde. Zum Schluß sagte
Sie noch einen Satz den ich damals nicht ernst nahm und dessen Bedeutung mir
erst später klar wurde. "Du hast mich zum ersten und letzten Male Betrogen"
In der Zeit danach lebten wir nebeneinander her und Sie war bis auf eine
Ausnahme, das Sie nicht mehr mit mir schlief, wie immer. Als wir ca. 1 Jahr
nach dem Gespräch unseren Urlaub planten überraschte Sie mich mit dem Wunsch
das Sie gerne Indien kennenlernen wollte, ich hatte im Prinzip nichts dagegen
da ich auch noch nie in Indien waren und ich gab mein OK dazu nachdem dies
geklärt war sagte Sie sie würde sich um alles weitere kümmern.Es war ein
herrlicher Nachmittag als wir in Bombay ankamen, nachdem wir in dem Hotel
eingecheckt hatten bummelten wir etwas durch die Stadt und fanden ein sehr
schönes Restaurant im Kollinalstill wo wir ein Romantisches Abendessen zu uns
nahmen.Von dem Langen Fluge müde gingen wir danach ins Hotel zurück und legten
uns schlafen.
Als ich im Bett lag regte sich bei mir etwas und ich wollte , wie in der
letzten Zeit öfters, mich selbst befriedigen als ich Ihr Hand auf meiner
spürte. Sie nahm zärtlich meine Hand weg und verwöhnte mich mit Ihrem Mund so
das ich förmlich explotierte.Es wurde ein Wunderschöner Abend doch als ich in
Sie eindringen wollte sagte Sie mir klipp und Klar das Sie keine Kinder mehr
haben will und da Sie die Pille nicht mehr genommen hatt Ihr das Risiko
schwanger zu werde zu groß ist.Am anderen Morgen sagte Sie mir beiläufig beim
Frühstück, sollte ich mich sterisilieren lassen so würde Sie wieder mit mir
schlafen. Da ich schon wieder meinen steifen Schwanz der fast am Platzen
war,spürte sagte ich warum nicht wenn wir wieder zu Hause sind werde ich mich
Sterillisieren lassen.
Mit einem Lächeln auf den Lippen stand Sie auf und sagte mir das Sie nun
shoppen ginge und gegen Mittag wieder hier wäre.Nachmittags bei einer Tasse
erzählte Sie mir von Ihrem
Shopping Ausflug in der Stadt, beiläufig sagte Sie das beim Shoppen an einer
Privat klinik vorbeigekommen ist und da Ihr der gestrige Abend und das
Gespräch heute Morgen nicht aus dem kopf gegangen ist ist Sie hineingegangen
und hatt sich erkundigt was eine Sterilatisieon kosten würde und wie lange ich
danach außer Gefecht wäre. Da ich schon wieder geil wurde ließ ich mir alles
von Ihr erklären. Sie sagte mir das die Op viel weniger als in Deutschland
kosten würde und ich höchstens 1 Tage außer Gefecht wäre.
Vor lauter Geilheit sagte ich das Sie Bitte einen Termin für mich machen soll.
Sie Antwortete mir , da Sie sich das gedacht hätte und auch endlich wieder mit
mir schlafen möchte hatt Sie für Morgen ein Termin vereinbart. Die
darauffolgende Nacht war wunderbar.Am anderen Morgen fuhren wir mit dem Taxi
in die Klinik, da ich die englische Sprache nicht beherrsche führte meine Frau
das gespräch mit dem Arzt ich mußte lediglich 3 Dokumente unterschreiben deren
Inhalt ich nicht verstand. Nach dem gespräch wurde ich in mein Zimmer geführt
und meine Frau sagte mir das heute kein Termin mehr frei sei und ich Morgen
früh Op werden würde. Am Abend kamen zwei Schwestern kichernt in mein Zimmer.
Sie bedeuteten mir das ich meine Hose ausziehen sollte. Nachdem ich mich
ausgezogen hatte rasierten Sie mir meinen Schwanzhaare und die Schamhaare ab,
Sie waren während der ganze Zeit am Kichern und als die Schwester meinen
steifen Schwanz in Ihren Fingern hielt während Sie mich rasierte so meinte ich
in ihren Augen so etwas wie Mitleid zu sehen. Nach der Rasur bekamm ich einen
Einlauf und ein Beruhigungsmittel so das ich schnell einschlief.Am anderen
Morgen wurde ich in einen Op gebracht und eine Ärztin bereitete eine Narkose
vor was mir für eine Sterillisierung doch komisch vorkam. Während ich noch
protestierte , was aber niemand verstand, wurde mir eine Spritze gesetzt und
ich schlief ein. Als ich wach wurde bemerkte ich das meine Hände und Beine
fixiert waren, noch etwas benommen fragte ich meine Frau die neben dem Bett
saß was das zu bedeuten hätte, Sie antwortete mir es wäre nur zur Sicherheit
damit ich während der Narkose nicht die Wunde berührt hätte. Gleichzeitig fing
Sie an zärtlich an meinem Ohrläppchen zu knappern eine bisher unbekannte
Geilheit kam in mir hoch bis ich bemerkte das ich meinen Schwanz nicht mehr
spürte. Da hörte ich meine Frau sagen "Nun wirst du mich nie mehr Betrügen
können" Nachdem die Wunde verheilt war flogen wir nach Deutschland zurück,
zuhause angekommen führte meine Frau mich in den Keller wo in der zwischenzeit
ein Zimmer für mich eingerichtet worden war, das erst was ich sah war ein
adrett gebügeltes Zofenkleid und als ich die Schränke öffnete fand ich nur
noch Damenwäsche vor.Inzwischen habe ich mich an mein Zofen dassein gewöhnt.
* * * |
|
The True Measue of a Man is His Manhood | GAY | I believe on a very primitive and primal level, the size of a man's cock is the true measure of his manhood and his position in the masculine heirarchy. I believe that most men are aware on some level how they measure up against other men regardless of socioeconomic status, education, etc. This is my story of how I realize my place in the male ladder. | I am a 41year old white man, good looking, educated, professional with a long
standing,deep seated fascination with castration. I can't explain where it
came from - it is just there. Here is my story. . .
I believe that on a very primal level, a man's penis size dictates his place
in the hierarchy of men. Socioeconomic status, education, etc. is purely
surface conditioning. I believe that every man knows on some level his place
in the 'man heirarchy' and has known since he became aware of his penis size
in relation to other men. It doesn't matter if a man is straight or gay - on
some level he is definitely aware of his penis and his place when compared
with other men.
My attention to this topic really started when I was in my early twenties.
When I was in my early thirties I became completely obsessed with my
fascination of this masculine primal world. When I was in my early thirties I
was very attractive, hairy, successful and hung about 5.5 inches erect. I had
this inner desire to fulfill my place amongst men and become completely self
actualized. Needless to say there wasn't anyone I could think of to talk
openly and honestly about this. Fortunately the Internet connected me with
with a few like minded men.
Eventually I really connected with a man from Brazil named Soren. Soren was
about seven years older than me, about six inches shorter, olive skin and had
a true 9 inch cock that was thick, matched with large manly balls and the
entire package was surrounded by a thick, black, untrimmed bush. Soren was
also aware of the primal hierarchy and knew that he was superior to most men.
I knew I was to many men with my 5.5 inches. Soren and I were a perfect fit
and we both knew it immediately.
We communicated extensively online, traded photographs, talked on the
telephone and finally met. I wanted to serve a man who was higher up the
primal masculine ladder than me and Soren wanted to be served by a man below
him. It was a perfect match, a match that took time to cultivate, an amazing
match that few would ever understand.
We came to a point where we wanted to move forward. Since Soren was a superior
man to me with his large genitalia, I appropriately gave up my life in the
United States and moved to Brazil to be with Soren and take our connection to
the next level. The move was drastic and none of me friends or family
understood why I was doing this. Soren was a blue collar delivery man and I
was an educated professional - yet we had this connection that only we
understood. I gave up my successful life and happily moved in with him where I
contributed to household expenses as well as happily served him any way he
wanted (sexually, house chores, etc.).
Two months had gone by and we were truly in a great place - each being
fulfilled in the primal roles we knew we held. Every day when we were naked
with each other, his impressive 9 inches humiliated my modest 5.5 - and we
were both were fulfilled knowing that. All of my savings went into an account
that Soren had control over. Soren continued his job and I continued to serve
him in every way he wanted and needed. I knew early on that this is where I
was truly meant to be. Even though I loved my cock and balls and loved jacking
off, my desire to permanently know my place with Soren by being castrated was
a stronger feeling. Fortunately, Soren also wanted to have me castrated for
several reasons. I would jack off regularly (alone or with Soren) as I
fantasized about the day I am castrated. I knew that I wouldn't be able to
jack off with no cock or balls, yet the feelings intensified.
My true reasons for wanting to be castrated were that it was a complete, pure,
primal and masculine exchange of power - where the weaker man permanently
submits to the stronger man when his manhood is removed. I wanted Soren to
know that I respect him and would make that sacrifice - knowing that I would
never enjoy sexual pleasure the same way again, knowing that I would be
limited to an extremely small or non-existent pool of potential partners if
Soren ever dumped me. I was proud to make this sacrifice and we both knew that
he had enough cock, balls and cum for both of us.
We eagerly wanted to move forward and faced the reality that we couldn't find
a surgeon willing to perform the surgery. Through extensive research we found
a reputable clinic in Thailand that would perform the surgery properly and
wouldn't judge us. We scheduled and pre-paid several thousand dollars six
months in advance. The several month wait was specifically so that we could
really think about what we were about to do.
The time for the trip to Thailand came. Soren had taken numerous photographs
and movies of me with my hard cock on my hairy body over the past year. We
wanted to have before pics that we could cherish. We arrived at the Thailand
hotel, near the clinic. We had arranged for a photographer to video our last
night with my man parts. I stripped naked in front of the camera, jacked off
then read a letter I had written to Soren. I expressed how much I respect and
honor him. I begged to be castrated and sincerely expressed how proud I would
be to be castrated for Soren (and myself). I also signed the consent forms and
the letter I just read. Soren then shaved all the hair from my body from the
neck down. A gesture symbolizing the essence of our relationship - Soren
demonstrating his superior masculine. This special evening was captured on a
video that we would often look back at.
The following morning finally arrived. I was completely hairless from the neck
down and Soren and I had the best sex ever and my cock and balls felt
incredible as I came harder than ever. I was excited and afraid at the same
time as I knew this would be the last time I would ejaculate or have a penis
and testicles.
We arrived at the clinic and I signed more papers. Soren told me again that if
I was truly committed to him (and us) I would prove it by consenting to have
not only my testicles and scrotum removed - but also my penis completely
removed from the base. Even though I heard him say this numerous times before,
I flooded with emotions and got teary eyed with joy when he spoke. I told him
that nothing would make me happier and more fulfilled. I told him that serving
him is my true calling and giving up my genitals and ability to have sexual
stimulation for him would be an honor. The consent forms clearly expressed our
wishes and my signature was eagerly signed.
I was then escorted into a room away from Soren - the last time we would see
each other with with me having my manhood. I was asked to strip and put on a
gown. They examined my crotch and shaved a few hairs that were missed then
dabbed rubbing alcohol on the area. I was now laying on my back on a table and
was surrounded by one surgeon, two technicians and one nurse. I was injected
with a sedative which was followed by the general anaesthetic.
When I woke up I was in a cold, sterile recovery room with Soren holding my
hand. I couldn't feel anything below my waste. As the anaesthetic wore off I
was injected with strong pain killers. I noticed that my crotch was bandaged
up an that a catheter was coming out. I had a brief moment of terror until I
looked up and saw Soren smiling at me.
Time passed and the bandages had to be changed. I would be able to see for the
first time how I looked without my manhood. Soren was present and I was told
to lay on my back and look up as the bandages were removed. I was swabbed with
saline and the surgeon finally told me I could sit up and look at myself in
the full length mirror beside the bed. I kept my eyes closed as I sat up and
stood next to Soren in front of the mirror. I opened my eyes to see my
completely naked, hairless, cockless, ballless body next to Soren, who was
wearing jeans with his large bulge showing. I was flooded with emotions and
started crying - tears of grief and tears of joy. It was obvious that the
surgeon knew what he was doing as there was no evidence of my cock an balls
and all that remained was a well placed piss hole that he artistically created
with the head of my penis.
I was filled with emotion - joy, terror, excitement and then joy again. As the
following weeks passed and we were back home, reality had permanently set into
both Soren and myself. I was put on hormones to maintain my masculine features
and faced my new reality. I did go through a depression for a few months - and
knew to expect that from reading all I read. Eventually that passed and I was
completely healed both physically and emotionally.
After I completely recovered, Soren took numerous photographs of my naked body
and put the before and after photos in discrete areas around the house that
only we would see. This was one of the constant reminders of the choice I made
- and the place I hold amongst other men. Every time I saw another man on the
street or in the gym. In the gym I would see men either naked or sporting
bulges in snugly fitting underwear while I wore loose fitting shorts and never
showered at the gym. Even seeing a boy on the street reminded me that he has
more manhood than I do.
As time went on I became extremely content and fulfilled as I was permanently
in the place I felt I belonged, serving a man who took my manhood. I was proud
and knew that I did the right thing. I would never experience sexual
satisfaction the same way again and my sex drive was low. Soren's sex drive is
extremely high and I always service him regardless of whether I am in the mood
or not. At first it was hard for me to service him when I wasn't in the mood
but he forced the issue reminded me what I signed up for. He reminded me that
my sex drive will never be as high as his and to do what I am told. I
eventually grew to enjoy it in a different way than before. I focused on my
true respect for him as a man. Swallowing his cum while smelling and tasting
his sweaty crotch (when I am not in the mood is the ultimate act of my respect
for him.
Soren doesn't like fucking much but loves it when his big cock is in my mouth.
Sometimes he comes home from work, sweaty and smelling like a man. I take off
his shoes, unbuckle his belt, take down his pants and then release his large,
hairy, aromatic and moist cock from his underwear. He sits down, puts one leg
up on each side of my body as I kneel between his legs and lick him, suck him
and honor him until he bursts his cum in my mouth. Even though I don't feel
the same sexual arousal any more, I eagerly swallow Soran's cum as it is the
only cum in my body.
We have been living like this for the past seven years. Like with any
relationship we have had our disagreements - but I always defer to Soren, the
superior man. Nobody in our network of friends or family knows our secret.
Behind closed doors we sometimes look at the photographs and videos of what I
looked like with my cock and balls. The best way I can explain our
relationship to an outsider is that I feel a sense of calmness and belonging.
Perhaps the way a dog has peace knowing its place in the pack, Soren and I
have peace knowing our places in our little pack. I gave up a successful life
in the United States along my balls, sack and cock to be with a blue collar
man of modest means - who has a large cock. In our very primal and private
world, we couldn't be happier.
The ultimate expression of my contentment to Soren, is when I honor his bulge
without ever feeling sexual climax myself. Losing my manhood has allowed me to
concentrate less on myself and more on serving Soren. On the outside, with
clothes on, I am an attractive, well proportioned, muscular 41 year old man.
When in public restrooms, I have to use a private stall as it is awkward for
me to stand urinating (like a man). I never shower at the gym and my friends
don't ask questions. To this day, like every other day, I am constantly
reminded of my permanent place in the primal, masculine hierarchy. I couldn't
be happier and more grateful to have my special relationship with Soren.
* * * |
The Lycian Prince - Author's Cut | GAY, WARNING, NULLIFICATION, MINOR | I received e-mails from kind followers of ‘The Lycian Prince’ asking me to save Anthonius’ genitals from the guillotine. Alas, I could not oblige as Anthonius was an historical eunuch. However, in the original version of the saga, I excluded a vivid description of the boy’s nullification to go some way towards meeting the sensitivities of these readers. However, I suggest that anyone with such benevolent inclination towards the lad should now proceed to another tale as this story appendage corrects the omission. | ` THE LYCIAN PRINCE – AUTHOR’S CUT `
Finish of Chapter 68 – Equinox
(The vernal equinox, March 292 A.D. - the day of Anthonius’ nullification)
Anthonius felt his cock quickly expand further and he expected to hear the
click that would announce that the trigger had sent the emasculating blade on
its way. However, the setting was too expert for that to happen without the
expulsion of semen. The accepted white offering looked around at the now
silent sea of expectant black faces and felt his groin begin to boil as the
vibrations exciting his erection continued remorselessly. An acolyte was
already kneeling in front of the boy to collect his final production of semen
in a bowl, whilst another dish waited on the ground underneath to gather
safely his severed sexual organs. Priests waited nearby to cauterise and
otherwise treat the anticipated wound.
The former Prince felt his last sperm accumulating rapidly within his scrotum,
ready to burst into daylight. His foreskin soon rode back to reveal the
cockhead drooling precum, which was to be replaced imminently with actual cum
as inevitable climax approached.
The kind Arab and his men entered the amphitheatre just as Anthonius yelled,
his young body beginning to spasm as orgasm began to overwhelm him. A click
was then heard.
Chapter 68a – Nullification
An ancient black leather triangular thong-like attachment, with chains
substituting for securing waist and bumcrack cords, had been tightly fixed to
Anthonius’ sore loins just before he miraculously managed to perform his final
nudedance before the genital guillotine and altar. The boy’s tortured sexual
organs had been squeezed through a small round hole in the middle of the
leather, in front of which was affixed a metal ring of the same circumference.
The item was customarily worn by all accepted penalslave genital sacrifice
offerings just before their nullification. It was also a tradition never to
clean the leather or metal, which were heavily encrusted with dried blood
around the exposure hole.
The attachment’s purpose was to make the endangered genitalia stand out even
more from the body for better spectator viewing and easier presentation to the
guillotine chopping hole. In Anthonius’ case, the boy’s whiteness and existing
cockring further enhanced the effect. Once attached to the nullification
device, the two rings remained groin-side of the chopping hole whilst nicely
encouraging a sweet display of the whole of the boy’s smooth sexual organs on
the other side.
As the convulsing Anthonius climaxed and heard the click, he closed his eyes
as he experienced a strange mix of ecstasy and terror. He heard the release of
the emasculating blade and the rumble as the heavy object succumbed to gravity
and fell. Meanwhile, the smirking acolyte, kneeling in front of him carefully
gathered as much of the lad’s last spurts of semen as he could in the dish he
was holding before the sacrificial victim’s genitals also fell.
The kind Arab and his men had stopped at the top steps of the amphitheatre
doorway through which they had entered, realising that they were just too late
to save the young Lycian from total castration. They soon sullenly turned and
left to go back to their boat as there was no more that they could immediately
do. The poor boy was best left with the Nubians for now as they were the
experts at ensuring that the victims of nullification survived their terrible
experience.
Anthonius heard the blade crash into the base of the guillotine but, in shock,
at first felt nothing himself except a slight stinging in his groin. However,
the appalled boy knew that the guillotine had performed its function by the
way in which the quiet within the temple had been shattered by reverberating
cheers.
Anthonius could not resist opening his eyes and he initially saw that almost
all of the spectators were now standing, including Ebana in the royal box,
with many black faces exhibiting broad smiles and mouths uttering loud
acclamations. The boy could not then deter himself from looking downwards. He
observed the smirking black acolyte, bowl in hand containing a handsome
quantity of white boy semen and entranced by what had just been observed
despite being splashed with blood. As the former Prince moved his eyes further
to the vertical, excruciating pain finally overwhelmed him, although this did
not prevent him from continuing his downward stare.
Anthonius, body now racked in agony, screamed in anguish as he noticed that
nothing now protruded through the chopping hole, around which fresh blood had
been splattered. Much blood was also running from the aperture down the wooden
surface of the guillotine.
Anthonius then managed to focus on the second bowl placed underneath him on
the newly bloodstained ground. The only content of the dish was the boy’s
beautiful smooth white genitalia, now sadly smeared with red spots and
displaying a neatly severed sanguine edge. The penis was amazingly still erect
and issuing sperm.
The acolyte moved away, taking Anthonius’ last reproductive product of his
loins with him to be used in later ceremonial. The black boy had seen others
suffer at the genital guillotine but he never before or after gained as much
visual thrill as he had on this occasion. The razor-sharp blade had sliced
through the white boy’s scrotum as if the organs were not there. The lovely
white genitals, lustrous ivory-like rigid cock still gushing semen whilst the
circumference of the ball sac spurted blood, seemed to hang momentarily in
space before accepting the inevitable and dropping into the waiting container.
The Highpriest advanced to pick up the bowl containing the former Prince’s
sexual organs in order to walk around the ceremonial area, with the dish held
high so that everyone could view the cleanly detached white genitalia.
Meanwhile, priests attended to the now shrieking victim to ensure that the
temple’s first white nullified eunuch survived to pursue his first function as
an unmanned young prostitute.
Anthonius, in a torment of distress and pain, and with blood still seeping
from his awful but surprisingly small wound, was released from the guillotine
and spreadeagled on the ground in front of the altar, a priest firmly gripping
each limb. Other priests collected red-hot irons from a nearby brazier and, as
the first was applied to the former Prince’s emasculated groin to begin the
cauterisation of the damage, the boy finally fainted. However, he was quickly
reawakened by application of cold water to his beautiful but tearstained face,
as penalslaves were always kept conscious to experience the full mending
process.
The irons were applied eight times, and Anthonius had to be revived on two
more occasions, before the operation was considered complete. The agonised boy
was then tied spreadeagled and upright between the two posts in front of the
altar, with the bowl of genitalia, now immersed in preservative fluid,
underneath him, whilst the ceremony was ended with dancing from some other
temple eunuchs.
Anthonius was later released and carried to his cell, where herbal salve was
applied to his terrible injury, which was then wrapped in clean bandages. The
former Prince subsequently experienced an horrific sleepless night as his body
and mind continued to be racked by acute agony and woe. However, careful
attention to the wound, involving much fresh application of salve and frequent
replacement of bandaging over the next few days reduced the anguish of the
pain if not the mortification resulting from the nullification.
Anthonius had recovered sufficiently, at least in a physical sense, by
Priapus’ next weekly sacred day to allow him to be displayed naked, with his
genitalia in the bowl, on the covered platform in the outside main square. The
wider population of Ebania were to be granted a close-up view of the new 15
years old white eunuch and the physical evidence of his nullification. Ebana,
having learnt about the manner of the kind Arab’s arrival in the Priapic
temple, took the precaution of guarding the square with many soldiers.
The verbal torments that Anthonius suffered from many who came to see his
shame were worse than ever, with children again the worst perpetrators. The
boy’s penis was later separated from the severed scrotum, the latter then
being afforded a prominent cubby-hole in the temple’s main amphitheatre.
One month later, health if not genitalia restored, the deeply shamed Anthonius
made his first appearance in one of the Priapic temple’s male brothels, that
catering for those who liked the younger nullified eunuchs. The kind Arab had
been unable to persuade Ebana to release the former Prince from humiliating
servitude in the temple despite offering a large bribe and, when that failed,
threatening to cease his substantial trading in spices with Nubia, much needed
by the impoverished country. The King was too frightened of the consequences
if Diocletian ever found out. The Arab had also lost the element of surprise
and the forcible rescue of the boy was no longer a realistic option as he was
now continuously well guarded. The man therefore started furtive negotiations
with other prominent Nubians but these would take months to bear fruit. He had
been forced to return first to Alexandria, having not even been allowed to
visit the young Lycian, who therefore remained ignorant about the rescue of
his mother and sister from Diocletian’s clutches.
The pain in Anthonius’ well-treated groin had gradually dulled and had gone
completely. However, he never overcame the deep humiliation of no longer
possessing his genitals and having to use a small tube made of reed to
urinate. The sudden loss of his previously voracious sexual drive also caused
him much grief as he remembered the many pleasures that he had experienced
with the lost equipment. The shamed young white eunuch had been told that, if
he performed his new role well, he might enjoy some renewed ecstasy from the
one remaining organ that could provide some sexual pleasure, his prostrate. He
was informed that the many huge black erections that he would be servicing
daily seemed to be ideally designed for such a purpose.
Anthonius’ silky golden hair had been allowed to grow long and development of
a light cover of blonde pubic hair to hide his scar had been expertly
encouraged through application of creams. By the time of the new eunuch’s
first appearance in the brothel to which he had been assigned, the boy, when
nude, looked like a girl yet to develop breasts.
Anthonius danced in a tiny black thong, emblazoned with a red phallus, sacred
symbol of Priapus and a humiliating reminder of what was no longer present
underneath. The stage in the centre of the main windowless chamber of the
brothel was surrounded by many seated raucous Nubians, happily watching the
new white prostitute’s erotic performance. Demand to be present had been so
great, and would continue to be so, that attendance by lot had had to be
introduced. This was further applied to select the lucky twenty patrons who
would be allowed each day to enjoy the new nullified white eunuch’s body for
roughly half an hour each, time determined by use of a simple water clock
whereby water poured from one jar to another.
The girlish Anthonius eventually removed his thong, to many ribald comments,
before dancing naked to show off his groin, shaved of its masculinity, to the
spectators. The boy had suffered many acute humiliations in recent years but
he thought at the time that this was the worst yet, a view not subsequently
altered.
At the end of Anthonius’ skilfully executed routine, the boy was led to an
adjacent bedchamber by the supervising priest. As in the ‘House of Ganymede’,
he stood in front of the bed, facing the door, to await his first client. The
eager man, a tall muscular Nubian in his thirties, did not keep the new
nullified prostitute waiting for long.
The nude Anthonius prostrated himself in front of his customer before standing
again to help the man disrobe. They were soon naked together on the bed with
the black energetically exploring every delicious crevice of the young white’s
body, taking particular pleasure in rubbing the eunuch’s pubic hair and
sublime buttocks.
Anthonius sucked the client’s massive rampant hairy cock for a while, sadly
remembering when he too possessed such a body part, before being required to
turn over to present his anus for invasion by the vibrating black member,
adorned with throbbing veins. The eventual gush of sperm that he felt
impregnate his innards caused his sobs, originally created by the pain of
sodomy by such a large intruder inside his rectum, to intensify as he recalled
his own inability to do the same to propagate his royal line. The boy’s
prostrate, although regularly struck by the swollen black penis, produced no
pleasurable responses to ease his misery. In fact, none of the other nineteen
customers, whom he serviced on that first day in the brothel, were able to
overcome the prostitute’s anguish by stimulating his prostrate, not that they
were bothered to do so. The lack of prostrate reaction was constantly repeated
as many more days and several months passed in the awful establishment.
Almost two months after Anthonius’ inaugural performance in the Priapic
brothel, Diocletian was in the pleasure chamber of the Imperial boy companion
quarters. He was watching some of his catamites give a vivid demonstration of
passionate lovemaking on the entertainment platform when Casperius gave him a
small jar and accompanying parchment, received that day from a galley in the
harbour of Ostia. The Emperor poured the contents into a dish. He and the
major domo smiled broadly, and all of the non-sexually active boys giggled,
when they saw the young white penis sink to the bottom of the preservative
fluid.
Next day, Casperius went, on his Imperial master’s behalf, to Rome’s main
slave market to arrange the purchase of pretty white boy virgins to be sent to
the Nubian King in thanks for the little but very welcome gift. It was
rumoured that the Emperor later kept the jar at his bedside for the rest of
his life.
It was the middle of the night when Anthonius was finally rescued from the
terrible existence that Diocletian had hoped would be lifelong. The boy had as
usual cried himself to sleep in terrible despair at his awful plight.
Ebana had been killed and displaced in a coup and the new King had the white
eunuch prostitute, now almost 16 years old, removed from the temple and
delivered to the boat of the Arab who had sponsored the temporarily successful
revolt with much gold. The ship quickly set off from the quayside of the
Nubian capital, leaving the Kingdom to endure years of civil war, and headed
north to Alexandria, where the young Lycian’s prostrate would at last be
induced into providing personal pleasure again by the careful attentions of
his friend Hron.
The rest of Anthonius’ saga is, as the saying goes, history.
THE END
of
‘THE LYCIAN PRINCE – AUTHOR’S CUT’
by Pueros
* * * |
Doctor's Visit | TESTICLES | None | I noticed some small dark red spots on my testicles one day. I
decided to go to the doctor. I wasn't really worried , but you never
know. My doctor was out of town and when I called to make the
appointment the receptionist told me Dr. Natt would be available that
night at 5:45pm. I would be the last patient. I agreed and was
thrilled they could see me at such short notice. I arrived and I
noticed the receptionist was puttin on her coat to leave. "Oh Mr.
Miller sign this paper then go right in Dr. Natt is in room #5. Good
night" I signed the paper then went to the back and finally cam upon
room number 5. There was no one there. I sat up on the table and
waited. About ten minutes later a short very unattractive almost
deformed woman walked into the office. She was about 4'11 150lbs
with bright red hair and green eyes. She looked me over, I am 6'4"
200lbs workout mid thirites look much younger. She very curtly told
me to take off my pants shoes socks and underwear and togo to room
#2. I wanted to protest but why would I, she is a doctor. I took
off my clothes and went into the room. She had her back to me. In
the center of the room was a chair with stirrups on it. I walked
over to the chair and got in it. She turned around and secured my
feet in the stirrups. She had a needle in her hand and pricked my
balls with it and they quickly when numb. She started to squeeze and
fondle my balls. She looked verey serious. I tried to talk and
noticed that I was ...slow and could not speak intelligently. She
started speaking. "At this time you are in no condition to argue
with me and since you signed that release to me I will continue with
the law on my side". I wasn't sure where she was going with this.
She studyed my balls closer. There is nothing physically wrong with
your testicles. They are large and healthy. I was very confused but
happy. "I will now remove them for study." I was shocked. What did
she say? Remove them? She continued, "I have been looking for a pair
of testicles that are large and healthy for me to use in an
experiment. All the samples I have recieved from dead bodies are all
small and deseased and not like these. I am glad you did not read
the note you signed when you came in. It stated that you where
donating your testicles to science. Well I am science!" I was
shocked but unable to move. She took out a scaple and started to
cut. I felt a little pressure but I couldn't see what was going on.
A few minutes later she spoke, "mmm nice pair and they are mine now"
She held up my balls in front of me. She had done it!! "oh, I am
greedy. There was a mistake and I will now have to take your cock as
well!" I wished I could scream!! "It's not large but I can't resist
having it so close for me to take. If you dont want me to cut off
your cock tell me now" She then burst out laughing. She gave me
another shot and I awoke in the parking lot in my car a few hours
later. There was a perscripion for pain killers and a copy of the
letter I signed as it was witnessed by the receptionist. There was a
yellow post-it note stuck to it which said:"Thanks" |
Lands of the Lotus 2: Little Yoshi | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES | Hi, all. Decided to change the name of this little tale. Part 1 can be found at http://www.eunuch.org/Alpha/S/ea_24521slaves_o.htm | ` (Slaves of the Dynasty, part 2)`
My shoulders ached. My knees were sore. Hell, even my butt hurt. Kneeling in
the harsh sun and humid climate of a strange land is not a good way to spend
an afternoon. At least I was better off then Stephan. The collar around his
penis had driven him nuts after two months. One knife-stroke later and he was
free from his hormones forever. Strangely enough, he was not punished for
removing his own manhood. Makoto almost seemed proud of him. Go figure.
And here she was again, inspecting our ranks; examining her stock, as it were.
It was torture, plain and simple. The collars had been removed, and damn was
my pole reaching for the heavens. Touching it would be a bad idea. Farragut,
in the back row, had tried to sneak in a couple of strokes, but _hung_ was old
hat at this. The beating he got was more than enough to dissuade anyone else
from trying it.
"Stand!" hung ordered.
I wasn't feeling quite courageous enough to turn my head, but I could hear the
distinct sounds of Mistress Makoto and her retinue approaching down the path.
She was carried in a litter by a half dozen eunuchs and guarded by four of her
warriors.
Gracefully and silently she stood up, and took a spot right in front of us.
She looked us up and down, and then began the inspection. Enrik was first.
His six and a half inch penis was grabbed suddenly, and without warning. Then
she began to stroke. The ecstasy on his face was profound, and that was his
first mistake. He should've known better. He was a Ranger, and I found this
disgusting. If I were still his commanding officer I would punch him right in
the face!
And as that thought crossed my mind, a thick white ribbon erupted from his
member. His knees buckled and gave in, crashing him to the ground. Enrik's
face hit the dirt and he was panting in pleasure.
"Three minutes, fifteen seconds,” Makoto remarked to herself. "Unacceptable."
With that remark she took off her bracelet, which went limp once its clasp was
undone. It seemed to sparkle as it hung there. She grabbed the other end of it
and held it like a garrote. Two of the guards picked the poor fool up.
I'll say this: at least it was quick. The garrote removed Enrik's jewels, and
their bag, quickly, painlessly (shocking, I know) and without the mess. It was
like the man never had balls in the first place. A couple of slaves muttered
under their breaths, and Makoto was sure to mark their names down. Everyone
shut up after that, and I made it a point to remain absolutely still, posture
perfect.
I was next.
I could swear she gave me a smile before she grabbed it. By the gods, it felt
like butter had been poured over my cock. My eyes slammed shut and my mind was
taken somewhere else. I was in a bed with the softest of mattresses and
smoothest of sheets. And Makoto was naked beside me.
I instantly knew what I was to do. I just had to last for five minutes. Five
of the longest minutes I would ever know. Her sorcery made matters infinitely
worse, for the images in my mind were more real than any dream you could ever
have.
In my head we had sex. She was lying flat on her back, and I was pumping
myself in and out of her, rhythmically, passionately. My left hand curled
around her body and held onto the back of neck tightly. My lips were locked on
that neck, sucking, biting, licking. My right hand firmly played with her
small, tight breast, squeezing that nipple with the playfulness of a lover.
And that womanhood clamped down on me like a vice.
Five minutes was just impossible, I thought. I couldn’t do it. Sex was a
stranger to me for months. The arrow would leave the bow, so to speak, long
before it was supposed to.
Then I realized something. I had a brief pause in my little dreamworld as it
dawned on me that she was here too. This wasn’t quite a figment of my
imagination, because Mistress Makoto was right there in front of me. She was
feeling all of this, too.
The idea of pleasing my mistress was drilled into my head so often by hung,
that I came to realize that it was key. With that understanding I gave myself
to her. Every stroke, every lick, was for this goddess in front of me.
Time was something I had no understanding of here. When I came, I came hard.
The frustration of four orgasm-less months erupted out of me and into her. And
then came the feeling of dread. How long? How long, dammit?!?
Like Enrik before me, I found myself on my knees, panting like a dog cooped up
in the heat for too long. The guards began to help me up, and I lifted my head
a little. I could smell her. Her scent wafted from the folds of the kimono and
into my nostrils. I don’t know if it was the conditioning they had subjected
us to, or just something in the water, but I wanted to stick my tongue in that
pussy right then and there. Predictably, my unit was soon at full attention
again. Damn.
Still, the smile on Mistress Makoto’s face was worth all of it.
“Fourteen minutes, twelve seconds. I wish I could keep you for my own use,
little _yoshi_. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? But a former Ranger, with some
stamina,” she said with a grin,” will fetch a nice price.”
She gestured for me bow, and then planted a gentle kiss on my forehead.
Out of the fifty men assembled here, only eighteen of us came out of us
unscathed. Half of them were my men. Probably the last time I would ever be
able to feel a little bit of pride.
The city of Minmei Risha was a feminist’s wet dream. The only men with any
real attire were the natives. We slaves only had a degrading loincloth if we
were lucky. I wasn’t so lucky. The racks in the slave market kept a man on his
toes, arms and legs outstretched. Without the collar, my little partner was
completely on display, pointing out like a mini trumpet. A little sign in
front of each of us gave the Women quick access to our history, performance
statistics, that sort of thing. Mine was too far away for me to read, and
quite frankly I stopped caring after the first three hours. Mistress after
Mistress after Mistress stopped by to inspect me, more so than any other
slave, it seemed, but none wanted me.
They would walk around me. Smack my butt. Slap my thingy and watch it bounce
up and down. One even stroked me for half a minute before another Lady pointed
at the sign and told her to stop. It wasn’t fun standing there without any
genuine interest from anyone, but it was nice to be groped so much.
“You better hope you get picked,” said the man behind me during a lull in the
shopping.
“Why? What happens if I’m not bought today?” I still can’t believe that I had
been so indoctrinated at that point. Bought? I already saw myself as property.
“Then you’re goin’ to the mines. After you get snipped, of course. They figger
that if you can’t get sold here, then you’re just wasting time. Mebbe you’ll
just be sent to Kingae Vela, and service the warriors stationed there,” he
snickered.
“That’s that fort I passed just outside the city, right?”
“That’s right, boy. **Kingae Vela**. The Fortress of the Wind. The Women took
it from the men folk a thousand years ago, as the stories tell it. Those
spires that you noticed on the central wooden keep? They were once adorned
with naked, conquered men, kept alive with sorcery for a hundred years. Two
dozen suffered there as a warnin’ to all others. The kingdom of men was lost
not long after that. And as early as tomorrow, you could be a whore in the
barracks inside there, heh!”
I had no interest in talking to [i[kani anymore. He used to be a barbarian to
the south of here. Now he was just pathetic. Still, he insisted on blurting
out his stories to me until an overseer took notice and shoved a baton up his
ass. That shut him up real good.
The market would close at sunset, and that was maybe two hours away. What was
wrong with me? My body was in terrific shape. I had some very useful
woodworking skills. I wouldn’t have been surprised if Mistress Makoto noted my
stamina, as well. So what was the problem? Why was I still here? What were
these Women looking for that I didn’t have?
These thoughts all dissolved as the sun touched the horizon. I was useless.
Completely useless. Unwanted. I resigned myself to that as I saw that were
very few Women left browsing at this late hour. At least it didn’t rain.
Fifteen minutes later it appeared. It was like a convoy. An ornate black and
red litter, with spikes set on the top and sides, carried by eunuchs and
escorted by a full platoon of thirty-two warriors. Two of the eunuchs parted
the curtains and a stunning Woman fluidly got to her feet. She wore a black
and red cheongsam, with a hole cut out around her cleavage. As she strode
closer towards me, I could see that the red in her outfit was formed like two
dragons, their tails starting at the bottom with their heads just above her
breasts. The wings curved around to her behind. Her porcelain features
contrasted against a muscular physique, and a grace that would rival a tiger.
She must have stood six feet tall in those high heels.
She came to a stop right in front of me and looked me up and down.
“I thought he would have been taller,” she mused to herself. “But this is sooo
very nice,” she purred as her hands drifted over my chest and abs.
The knee to the groin really came out of nowhere. It happened so fast that the
pain didn’t register for a few seconds. My erection quickly subsided, and her
collar was instantly around me. She took a sword from one of her guards and
sliced at the ropes suspending me. I immediately fell, my head just inches
from her feet.
I’m not sure where the urge came from, but at once I began to kiss that shoe.
“Thank you Mistress, thank you,” I groveled. In hindsight I suppose I was just
ecstatic to have been chosen. Barracks Whore didn’t sound like a very good job
description, and this woman deserved all of my gratitude for rescuing me from
that horrible fate. Gods, I would have done anything for her at that moment,
as my tongue ran along the side of her black heel.
“Rise for High Mistress Anasi!” a guard spoke. I did of course. Mistress Anasi
then attached a little leash to my little collar and began to lead me back to
the litter, where I would walk off to the side while she held onto the leash.
I knew I wouldn’t have the time to read it, but a little voice inside my head
told me to take a quick glance at the sign. “SOLD,” it said, in huge letters.
And underneath… “to High Mistress Anasi.”
It really sucks being played. Lesson learned. Time for my breaking to begin.
* * * |
The Libertine and the Sorcerer | STRAIGHT, Impotence and frustration | A serial rapist and murderer is cursed with unbearable lust, total impotence, and immortality. Only he can find the key to his redemption.....and he has no idea how. | The persons, places, and events in this story are fictitious. Any resemblance
to actual persons, living or dead, places, or events, is purely coincidental.
Anna struggled under the heavy body of the man in the Arlecchino mask who held
one hand over her mouth to muffle her cries as he pierced her maidenhead with
his virile member. Try as she might, she could not prevent him from entering
her virginal passageway and working his rigid shaft of flesh back and forth
within it.
After some time had elapsed, he suddenly shuddered and gasped. Anna knew what
this must betoken. He began to grunt and Anna, her cheeks encarnidined by
shame, felt his seed flood her fallow womb .
In the throes of his orgasm , her attacker forgot what he was about and took
his hand off her mouth. Immediately, Anna screamed "Aiuto ! Stupro !" Her
father, the Judge, hearing her cries, rushed to her room sword in hand. Alas,
even in his youth,
Alfonso Gualtieri had never been an especially good swordsman and the man he
now faced was arguably the best in Italy.
Middle-aged, great of belly, and short of leg (and breath), he was no match
for the youthful athletic rapist. The younger man was also no respecter of the
niceties of swordsmanship. He did not hesitate to drive the blade of his
rapier through the Judge's belly a hand's breadth below his navel, thus
dooming the Judge to a slow agonising death from perforated intestines and
peritonitis.
As he ran from the scene of his crime, the rapist could hear the Judge cry
"Ah, soccorso, son ferito." Smiling, the murderer said to himself "He should
have said 'Son morendo' (I'm dying)." He felt no remorse either for raping
Anna or for cruelly
slaying the Judge.
Before entering the street, he discarded the Arlecchino mask, uncovering the
handsome features of Giovanni da Murano, the bastard of an impecunious
nobleman. Silently, he slipped away into the night, unobserved and
unidentified.
Later that night, he entered another conquest into his bulging diary.
It required some eight hours of agony, which such a good man did not deserve,
for Il Giudice Alfonso Gualtieri to take his departure from this world. Her
grief for her dear father temporarily distracted Donna Anna from her own
predicament. Not only had she been raped by an unknown assailant, but she
might very well have been impregnated by him.
Anna had never seen her attacker's face nor had he spoken one word either to
her or to the Judge. There seemed no way to identify him, yet both her rape
and her father's murder cried out for vendetta.
By the time her father's funeral arrangements had been made, Anna had missed
her menstrual period. The undeserved disgrace of unwed motherhood was to be
forced upon her by circumstances for which she was in no way responsible. She
burned with an almost masculine lust for revenge ! Yet, how ?
Soothsayers, seers, diviners, and fortune tellers were outlawed and condemned
by the Church , yet, if one such might be consulted, perhaps he or she could
identify the culprit. Anna remembered that her friend, Elvira, had consulted a
seer seeking to locate her errant lover . Her revenge on him is, however,
another story.
Anna sought out Elvira and learned the name and the whereabouts of the seer,
one Mirdino. Unbeknownst to the ladies, Mirdino was much more than a mere
seer. He was a very powerful sorcerer, forced to keep a low profile owing to
the hostility of the Church.
Veiled, Anna went unescorted to Mirdino's home to consult him. Mirdino proved
to be a white-bearded but stalwart-looking and upright old man with clear and
almost luminously blue eyes. Before Anna had had an opportunity to identify
herself, Mirdino addressed her by name.
"Signorina Gualtieri, it is indiscrete of you to come here unescorted, veiled
though you be. If we sit here in my garden, however, there should be no
occasion for gossip."
"How do you know my name, Signor Mirdino ?" inquired Anna.
"I should be but a poor diviner if I did not." replied Mirdino with a smile.
"I also
know the reason that you have sought my assistance. You wish to know if I can
ascertain the identity of the man who attacked you and slew your father"
"Can you ?" asked Anna eagerly.
"Yes, I can, but I need you to look into my eyes for a moment whilst
remembering what you can of his appearence, disguised though he was. I must
ask you to raise your veil and hold it up until I tell you that I know what I
need to."
Anna could not find it in herself to distrust this strange old man. She raised
her veil and Mirdino looked deeply into her eyes. Sooner than she expected, he
said
"Very well. I know who your assailant was. His name is Giovanni da Murano. I
have seen him before and, in fact, I know his father. Of course, evidence
obtained by divination is not acceptable in a court of law."
"But, how did you determine his identity so quickly?" asked Anna.
"I looked into the past. I surmised that he would discard his mask as soon as
he entered the street, so I followed him out of your home and viewed him from
before when he removed his mask. As his face is already familiar to me, I
recognised him immediately."
"Amazing, Signor Mirdino" exclaimed Anna.
"Elementary" replied Mirdino modestly.
"I have taken the liberty, also, of undoing the harm which he had done to you,
and which has occasioned you such worry. You will find next month that
everything is back to normal."
Anna was glad that she had lowered her veil again as she was blushing a bright
scarlet. But, though embarrassed, she was greatly relieved. She managed to
stammer
"Thank you, Signore. But, is there no way that we can bring this Giovanni da
Murano to justice ?"
"Not under the law" said Mirdino, "but I can make him regret that he had ever
been born. He will be tormented by frustration from this day forth. The law
has no power to decree such suffering as shall be his henceforth until his
dying day."
"You have set my heart at ease, Signor Mirdino. How can I ever thank you ?"
asked Anna.
"It is unnecessary. I regret only that I cannot restore your father to you,
but that is forbidden to me. Lest you should fear that you have endangered
your immortal soul by seeking my aid, let me set your mind at ease about that.
I do not traffic in infernal spirits or powers.
I do not invoke Satan or any of his demonic minions. Mostly, the powers I use
are my own. If I must call upon other help, I ask it of our Lord and Saviour.
When I work spells, I ask the blessing of the Blessed Virgin and the Saints
upon them. I am no necromancer nor any raiser of demons. I heal the sick and
aid the oppressed but the Church condemns even such good works as I do. In
this they err greatly."
After Donna Anna had departed, Mirdino prepared to confront Giovanni da
Murano. He would offer the wrongdoer a chance to avoid interminable torment by
sincere repentance. The likelihood that he would accept this offer was
negligible. If it was rejected, Mirdino would place such spells on Giovanni da
Murano as had never afflicted any living man.
Late that night, after an evening of gambling and wenching, Giovanni da Murano
returned to his lodging. He had just removed his boots and sat down to rest
his feet when he noticed the air a couple of yards before him begin to
sparkle.
Suddenly, in that place appeared a tall, dignified, old man whom he had never
seen before . He pointed a bony index finger at Giovanni and said, "Giovanni
da Murano, you are a ravisher of virgins and a murderer. " Though frightened
to the bone, Giovanni managed a flippant reply. "In veritá ?" ["Really ?"]
"Laugh while you may, Giovanni da Murano, you will have no reason to laugh
henceforth. In the eleven years since you attained puberty, you have forced
twenty-seven virgins to submit to your lust and murdered four men, most
recently Donna Anna Gualtieri and her father Il Giudice, Signore Alfonso
Gualtieri. You need not waste time or burden my patience with denials."
Ever the man of action, Giovanni leapt to his feet and drew his rapier. His
mysterious visitor merely pointed at the blade of the rapier and it wilted as
if it had been melted and dropped away from the guard leaving Giovanni holding
the useless grip and guard.
"Who are you ?" he shouted.
"Ah, I had forgotten my manners. I am Mirdino, the sorcerer, not, however, at
your service. I offer you a choice, that between sincere repentance and a
curse. My curses are not mere words. If you agree to sincere repentance and
swear never to repeat your transgressions, I shall place a geis upon you to
hold you to those promises.
However, if you refuse, I shall curse you to a fate which will make you curse
the day you were born [like Job] and long for death which will be denied you.
You will burn with intolerable lust every moment of the day, yet, you will be
impotent and unable to satisfy your lust. You will be unable to end your
suffering by taking your own life nor by gelding yourself for you will be
under a geis forbidding this relief to you. Repent ! and forswear rape and
murder."
"NO !", shouted Giovanni.
"Repent! Never ravish another virgin or slay another man !"
"NO !"
"Repent! In remorse for your crimes, swear that you will not repeat them as
long as you may live."
"NEVER !" bellowed Giovanni. "Begone you fatuous old fool."
"I have offered you three chances to repent and you have refused them thrice.
Now, I curse you, first with insatiable lust, second with irremediable total
impotency and third with immortality. Only you can break this spell and you
will know no peace until you learn how to and do so."
Giovanni laughed heartily. "Well, Mirdino, are you done ? Have you had your
say ?"
Mirdino did not reply but merely made a strange gesture from above his head to
the floor and vanished. Immediately, Giovanni felt such intense lust as he had
never experienced before. It was too late to hope to find a harlot in the
street and , anyhow, Giovanni hated to pay for what he was accustomed to
taking.
In desperation, he pulled down his tights and took his virile member (which he
was surprised not to find erect) in his hand.
Gioivanni gasped in amazement and horror. It was like taking hold of another
man's cazzo. His hand could feel his member, but his member could not feel his
hand. He squeezed it, pulled it, rubbed it, stroked it, and felt none of what
he was doing, nor did his limp flabby cazzo swell or stiffen in the least.
Finally, he was forced to take the sorcerer's curse seriously.
Giovanni went to bed hoping that things would be better in the morning, though
he had no reason to expect anything of the sort. Certainly, he did not get a
sound night's sleep. It was repeatedly interrupted by erotic dreams. However,
as soon as he was about to spill his seed, he would awaken frustrated and with
aching coglioni.
Eight times this happened. He finally rose in the morning, as tired as he had
been when he lay down seeking sleep.
Giovanni had awakened with an erection every morning since he was thirteen,
but this morning, his cazzo dangled limp, soft, and visibly shrunken before
his aching coglioni. He knew that it was pointless to see a physician; they
are not accustomed to treating curses. During the day, Giovanni trembled and
panted with lust whenever he saw an attractive woman, but he could get no
relief.
And so it continued. The days became weeks, the weeks months, the months
years, the years decades, and the decades centuries. Mad with sexual
frustration but the picture of perfect health, Giovanni continued to look
exactly as he had when he was cursed, still handsome, still apparently 24
years old.
Plagues came and went; pestilence swirled about him but never touched the
accursed libertine. He was caught up in wars and bullets flew by him on all
sides but never so much as grazed him.
The only thing which changed about him was his name which gradually evolved
from Giovanni da Murano to Gianni d'Murano to Gianni Morano and finally in the
21st century to Johnny Morano. 500 years had passed and still he had learned
nothing which could enable him to break the spell which tormented him. He had
come to hate women but lusted after them no less keenly than he had 500 years
before.
His only talent was gambling. He had been an accomplished card sharp in 1503,
but this talent had become much less useful to him in an age of widespread
casino gambling.
Early in the 21st century, having emigrated to the New World in 1912, he
became associated with the Mafia and did various odd jobs for the Morello
crime family. One of them was to act as a courier, usually delivering sealed
packages about whose contents he was willingly ignorant. He supposed from the
size and weight that they probably contained narcotics.
One day, he was detained by the New York police who found that the heavy
package which he was carrying contained ten kilograms of crack cocaine. Johnny
refused to tell the police where he had got the package or where he was
delivering it to. He assumed that his loyalty to the Mafia would be
appreciated and that they would arrange for him to get a light sentence, if
any, inasmuch as he really did not know the contents of the package and no one
could prove otherwise.
The Morello crime family did nothing for him, for he was expendable and [they
thought] they could always off him if he was so indiscrete as to tell where he
got the package. His refusal to cooperate with the police got him a 5-year
sentence for possession of narcotics with intent to sell (which he certainly
did NOT intend.) Still, what was five years to an immortal ?
Johnny was confined in a cell with three other prisoners: Tyrone Ntembe,
Nyuyen Van Dong, and Jesus Angel Herrera. Tyrone ruled. He was 6' 4", weighed
230 lbs and meaner than Mike Tyson. Nyuyen was a sneaky opportunist, and Jesus
was a vicious street fighter. This did not strike Johnny as a safe or healthy
environment. He couldn't be killed, but that was cold comfort.
Tyrone wasted no time before convincing Johnny of his supremacy. "Drop yo'
coveralls and yo' briefs."
"Fuck you" retorted Johnny. That was NOT the smartest thing he'd ever done.
Tyrone belted him across the face with the back of his hand, throwing him
across the cell. Groggily, Johnny stood up and silently dropped his coveralls
and briefs.
"Bend ovuh." ordered Tyrone. Johnny hesitated and Tyrone grabbed his
perpetually aching balls and squeezed. Johnny bent over. In his 524 years of
life, Johnny had never been buttfucked. So, it was into a virgin asshole that
Tyrone, having dropped his own coveralls, rammed a humongous black whang which
wouldn't have looked out of place under a donkey.
Johnny screamed, but the guards habitually made no attempt to interfere in
prison rape, and, recognizing that another one was underway, the guard ignored
Johnny's screams. Johnny reacted to the defilement with outrage, disgust,
shame, and pain. He felt utterly degraded.
Suddenly, Johnny realized that this was how those 27 virgins must have felt
whom he had raped 500 years ago. For the first time in his life he felt
remorse for what he had done. Suddenly he was deeply ashamed of himself and
sorry for those poor girls, even though, of course, they had by now been dead
for centuries.
A voice, familiar even after half a millennium, spoke in Johnny's mind. It was
the voice of Mirdino saying "The curse is lifted." The former Giovanni da
Murano received immediate confirmation that the curse was, indeed, lifted. He
popped a boner, the first he had had in 500 years. Johnny was both embarrassed
and delighted by it.
Tyrone's dick, pounding on Johnny's prostate gland made him cum, finally
releasing the pent-up gism which had made his balls ache for so long. Johnny
shot across the cell onto Jesus' coveralls.
"Jou focking maricón !" screamed Jesus who dropped his gism-stained coveralls,
strode up to Johnny and thrusted his pinga into Johnny's mouth. "Sock eet, jou
fairy." Jesus reached out and grabbed Johnny's balls to ensure his compliance.
And, so, Johnny's degradation continued as he unwillingly sucked Jesus' pinga
and swallowed his cum.
As soon as Tyrone pulled out, Nyuyen opted for "sloppy seconds" and plugged in
after him. Though sick with embarassment and resentment, Johnny accepted his
role as ho to his cellmates, convinced in his new repentance, that he deserved
it.
Somewhere in New York City, among its millions, there is one 530-year-old man
who has been everywhere, seen everything, and done everything, is bored to
distraction, and is sick and tired of life. The curse was lifted, but the geis
forbidding him to take his own life was not. However, he is no longer
immortal, and that is his consolation.
* * * |
Mr. Goldberg | PENECTOMY | Mr. Goldberg can get his penis rebuilt, but... | Mr. Goldberg wakes up in the hospital, bandaged from head to foot.
The Doctor comes in and says, 'Ah, I see you've regained consciousness. Now,
you probably won't remember, but you were in a big pileup on the freeway.
You're going to be okay, you'll walk again and everything, but..... something
happened. I'm trying to break this gently... but the fact is... your penis was
chopped off in the wreck and we were unable to find it.'
Goldberg groans, but the Doctor goes on, 'You've got $9000 in insurance
compensation coming to you, and we have the technology to build you a new
penis that will work as well as your old one did... maybe even better! But the
thing is, it doesn't come cheap. It's $1000.00 per inch.'
Goldberg perks up at this!!
'So,' the Doctor continues, 'It's for you to decide how many inches you want.
But it's something you'd better discuss with your wife. I mean, if you had a
five inch one
before, and you decide to go for nine inches, she might be a bit put out. But
if you had a nine inch one before, and you decide only to invest in five
inches this time, she might be disappointed. So it's important that she plays
a role in helping you make the decision.'
He agrees to talk with his wife. The Doctor comes back the next day and says,
'So, have you spoken with your wife?'
'I have,' says Mr. Goldberg.
'And has she helped you in making the decision?'
'Yes, she has,' he says.
'And what is it?' asks the doctor.
'We're getting granite counter tops.'
* * * |
Orchiectomy: Is It Right for You? | TESTICLES | ` ** Orchiectomy: Is It Right for You? ** `
Dr. Jeremiah Mountjoy, M.D.
Within the past few years there has been a dramatic increase in the number of
men requesting a bilateral orchiectomy. Interest in this minor surgical
procedure has increased largely as a result of an Internet site, which began
operation shortly before the turn of the millennium. Members of the site
discussed the pros and cons of the surgery and those who had it performed
discussed their results. Notice of the site by the popular press gained it a
great many casual viewers.
The long conversations on both the health and psychological benefits of
bilateral orchiectomy led to a fad in the Los Angeles area, where in the first
few years of the millennium nearly 1000 individuals requested the surgery for
health reasons. The results were such that the fad has developed into a social
movement in the western U.S., though one that has only recently begun to
spread elsewhere. Although the Internet site began in the Midwest and the
foremost surgical practitioner in the beginning was in Philadelphia, somehow
the fad seemed peculiarly Californian.
Within a short while the medical profession in California began to take notice
of the procedure and to see first hand the benefits, which it conferred, on
those who underwent it. At least two California HMOs now fully cover the
surgery and others are expected to. The health benefits they find more than
pay for the surgery as a preventative measure. The fad has moved into
mainstream medical practice, at least in some areas of the country.
Because of the clear health benefits of this minor surgical procedure, most
men should certainly consider the advisability of an orchiectomy, both for
themselves and for their sons. Women need to consider it as well for those
they love and to advise them clearly of its benefits. If your physician does
not already understand the benefits of orchiectomy, you should ask him to
research it for the benefit of all of his patients.
While the health benefits alone are certainly reason enough to consider this
minor surgery, there are a number of other important benefits as well. There
is also a single, relatively minor, negative that each individual must
carefully consider before electing to have the procedure performed.
**THE SOLE NEGATIVE**
The single negative result of bilateral orchiectomy is sterility, which is, so
far, irreversible, although there is on-going research into ways to overcome
this single negative result. Natural sterility is common enough these days
that this may not even be a consideration for many readers of this article.
Due to a number of causes, both physiological and environmental, nearly 10% of
all males who have not had a bilateral orchiectomy are already sterile. They
have no reason not to have the procedure performed in order to gain the
significant benefits it provides.
For those males who are not sterile, they need to carefully weigh the benefits
of long-term maintenance of their fertility against the shorter life
expectancy and poorer quality of life that they will then experience. There
are, of course, alternatives to maintaining long-term fertility. For males who
are already fertile, it is very easy to bank sperm to be used at some future
time in case a child of one's own biological heritage might be desired. This
is frequently done and is very inexpensive; the cost of sperm storage being
much less than the savings produced by the improved health which will result
from the bilateral orchiectomy. Some health insurance even covers the cost.
It is now more than 50 years since the development of artificial insemination
and several years since the perfection of in vitro fertilization. Artificial
insemination makes it possible to use sperm from a male other than the father
of the child. In vitro fertilization makes it possible to select an egg from
someone other than the mother, as well.
Most well-educated adults feel that it is important to provide the best
possible genetic heritage for their children and an increasing number of those
born to parents who are both themselves fertile are produced from donated
sperm and eggs of superior quality. The fertility of the parents is irrelevant
to the production of children.
For parents who might be considering a bilateral orchiectomy for a son who is
not yet old enough to be fertile and provide sperm for long-term storage,
there are several factors to consider. First, of course, they need to discuss
with each other how important they really feel it to be to have grandchildren
who are the biological product of that child. If the son is the product of
artificial insemination of in vitro fertilization, his fertility is certainly
already of little or no relevance to the parents. The long-term health
benefits of the surgery should certainly be paramount.
Parents who also have a daughter may decide that the daughter's biological
child is sufficient for their desires and that the son's health should take
precedence. Parents of more than one son ought also to consider whether or not
it is important for all of their sons to remain fertile and to have the
consequent health risks and lower quality of life. If one son is already old
enough to be fertile, he could certainly provide or bank sperm for his
brothers to use, should they so desire.
As we see, the single negative is a minor one that will in most cases be
outweighed by the many benefits of bilateral orchiectomy.
**THE MOST IMPORTANT BENEFIT**
The first, and most important benefit, is that males who have had a bilateral
orchiectomy, on average, live longer and healthier lives than males who have
not had a bilateral orchiectomy. The younger the age at which the surgery is
performed, the more pronounced the benefit, though below a certain age the
increased benefits are small. A male receiving a bilateral orchiectomy at just
before or after the age of puberty will, on average gain ten to eleven years
of life expectancy. If the surgery is performed at age six to eight the
additional gain would be no more than a month or two. If you wait until your
mid twenties, the gain is reduced to only six or seven years. Still
significant, but certainly less than optimal. At age 40 the gain is only three
or four years. Still important to most men, but much less than they could have
obtained had they made the decision earlier. I had my own bilateral
orchiectomy when I was 37. Much older than the optimal age, but I am certainly
happy to have finally made the decision.
There are many health benefits that combine lead to this longer and healthier
life. Lower blood pressure and reduced blood clotting lead to a lower
incidence of both heart attacks and strokes. Reduction of testosterone levels
leads to a much-reduced incidence of prostate and some other cancers. The
possibility of testicular cancer is, of course, totally eliminated. For those
who elect a bilateral orchiectomy at an early age, the reduction in
testosterone leads to greater calm and a reduction in risky behaviors. The
death rates from accidents and from violent behavior are both dramatically
reduced, leading to the increase in life expectancy.
All-in-all, both the length and quality of life are significantly enhanced.
**OTHER BENEFITS**
The health benefits of bilateral orchiectomy have been known for centuries,
but were long overshadowed by negatives that have now been totally eliminated
by modern medical technology. Some of these earlier negatives have now been
converted into positive results for, especially through the modern ability to
provide the optimal amount of testosterone in the system, rather than allowing
the body to produce an overabundance that causes serious side effects.
Without benefit of bilateral orchiectomy the body will naturally produce many
times more testosterone than the optimum. Production begins to increase
dramatically with puberty, spikes in the early 20s to produce far more than is
good for physical health, and finally begins to decline to optimal levels only
when you are in your 50s. The former advantages for this over-production are
now lost with modern civilization. In ancient times, young men needed a vast
amount of testosterone to perform heavy manual labor. They needed the
aggressiveness produced by the testosterone to fight hand-to-hand combat to
protect their group in the endemic warfare of the age. Today, none of this is
necessary. However, this historic cultural need for males with high
testosterone levels is the main reason for the disregard in which bilateral
orchiectomy has previously been held. When referred to by the historical term
"castration," it meant converting an individual from being ready to perform
feats of strength and aggression required by primitive life to being a gentle
and cooperative individual more suited for the present day.
Today, with the simple use of a non-prescription skin cream containing
testosterone after each morning's shower, it is easy for any male to obtain
exactly his optimal level. The health benefits of bilateral orchiectomy with
none of the historically negative effects of "castration" can be obtained with
approximately 10% of the testosterone that the body would normally produce for
a 20 year-old.
In ancient days the loss of fertility after "castration" was either a positive
or a negative result depending on the situation. In ancient times male slaves
often underwent "castration" to render them sterile. This allowed their
masters to sire more biological children, including those with female slaves.
There was no ability to bank sperm toward future needs, so free men tried to
maintain their fertility as long as possible.
Female slave owners might also have male slaves castrated to render them
sterile. In ancient Rome, for example, wealthy matrons might select slave boys
of 15 or 16 years of age and have them castrated to provide sexual service for
their mistress. Removal of the testicles does not necessarily mean elimination
of the ability to perform sexually. In fact, the length of time the male needs
to reach orgasm is increased, leading to greater pleasure for both parties.
With the use of testosterone creams allowing men to optimize their sexual
response, this has become a significant benefit of bilateral orchiectomy
today. My wife and I both agree that our marital relations have become much
more satisfying since my bilateral orchiectomy.
A significant reduction in testosterone also leads to a much greater feeling
of calm. The individual becomes less aggressive and more social. My wife and
my children all noted that I became a much better parent after my own surgery.
I was more patient and a much better teacher of and role model for my
children. My co-workers have also remarked on my improved personality and my
greater ability to cooperate in group projects. These improvements have been
noted by all of my own patients who have had the procedure.
**COSMETIC CONSIDERATIONS**
Many men seem more concerned about how they will appear in the shower in the
gymnasium than in their own physical and psychological health. While a
bilateral orchiectomy means the removal of the testicles, many men who have
the procedure request prostheses such that their appearance is unchanged.
I have noted, however, that heterosexual bachelors seem to have discovered
that there are many women who prefer the smoothness provided by lack of
testicles. It is a visible sign both that they need not worry about accidental
conception and that the male is likely to provide much more physical pleasure
than a male who retains his testicles. Among my homosexual patients, I have
discovered that some find the smooth appearance to be more erotic and some
choose prostheses larger than the normal range of human size.
After a bilateral orchiectomy you may make your own decision about cosmetic
appearance, secure in your knowledge of the other benefits you have obtained.
**PERSONAL EXPERIENCE**
I first encountered a patient requesting an elective bilateral orchiectomy
nearly eight years ago. He was one of the very early adopters of this new fad
in Los Angeles. I am a family practitioner in a small group practice of five
M.D.s I was initially shocked by this request from a patient whom I known for
some time, treating him, his wife, and their two children. I had read of the
elective surgery, but had no thought that one of my own patients might request
it.
I initially rejected his request and refused to perform the surgery for him.
He made another appointment and brought his wife to help argue his case. He
was of a family with a long history of heart problems and both he and his wife
argued that keeping him healthy and alive was far more important than
retaining his testicles. He had already banked sufficient sperm to allow for
another child should they ever desire one. After discussing the case with my
colleagues, I performed the surgery the following week.
Over the next three years, my partners and I performed the surgery a couple of
dozen times, usually on men in their late 20s who already had two or more
children and who wanted the health benefits of a bilateral orchiectomy. We
also performed the surgery for a few men in their 40s and 50s who were at high
risk for heart disease.
Seeing the positive results of the surgery on my own patients - their improved
health and their higher quality of life - I finally asked one of my colleagues
to perform a bilateral orchiectomy on me at the age of 37.
The results were far better than I had expected. There was significant
improvement in my blood pressure that allowed me to eliminate many of the
medications that I had been taking. I, too, have a family history of heart
disease and that single improvement in my own health made me wish that I had
elected the surgery years earlier. The greater calm and reduced feelings of
stress that I now feel are of benefit both to my family life and to my medical
practice. My wife and I enjoy a much more fulfilling sexual life with the very
small amount of testosterone that I currently use. Again, I wish that I had
elected the surgery years earlier.
After seeing the results on me, both of my sons began asking questions and
doing extensive reading on bilateral orchiectomy. They considered me to have
become a much better parent and wanted to know more about the various
consequences of the procedure.
Eventually my younger son decided that a bilateral orchiectomy would be right
for him. He is very bright, a fine athlete, and suffered from Attention
Deficiency Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD). His readings convinced first him,
and then my wife and me, that a positive result of the surgery would likely be
a great reduction in his need for medication. There would, of course, also be
other important benefits, but this one was central to his decision.
After long discussion within the family and with my medical colleagues, my
wife and I decided that a bilateral orchiectomy would be among his thirteenth
birthday gifts. We created an ornate certificate representing the gift and
give it to him at his birthday party. We thought that the reactions of his
friends would be important in his final decision to proceed or not. When he
unrolled the certificate, read it, smiled broadly and told his assembled
friends what it said, there was first stunned silence, followed by applause
and congratulations.
One of my colleagues performed the surgery a week later.
About two months later, my son asked if we could give a bilateral orchiectomy
as a gift for his best friend's birthday. Since I had recently performed the
procedure for the boy's father, I knew it to be a possibility. I discussed it
with his parents and they agreed that it would be a fine gift. I performed the
surgery a week after his birthday as well.
The two boys were the best players on their junior high school basketball team
and over the summer their coach, on whom I had also performed a bilateral
orchiectomy asked if I would be willing to perform the minor surgery for any
basketball player who wanted it. Since I had already volunteered to be the
team physician and planned to be at every game and spend as much time with the
boys as possible, I agreed. As soon as the school year began and the team
tryouts were complete, the coach sent permission slips to the parents of every
team member. I'm certain that the coach clearly explained the advantages and
disadvantages to all of the boys. I know that my son and his best friend
visited all of their parents to describe their own experiences and the
benefits that they had received. As the date I had set for the surgeries
approached, the coach received signed permission slips form the parents of
every member of the basketball team.
My colleagues volunteered to join me on a Saturday to perform all of the
surgeries. The coach and my office staff organized a team party for all of the
boys and, one by one, we performed a simple bilateral orchiectomy on each of
them over the course of the afternoon.
Today the glass case in the main lobby of the junior high school proudly
displays the large trophy that the boys won - the first all-state championship
in the history of the school. Sitting next to the trophy is a decorative glass
bottle containing the testicles of the entire winning team. The coach had
asked me to preserve them in case any of the boys had later requested his. I
had thought to preserve both my son's and his best friend's for the same
reason.
My colleagues and I have since adopted all of the sports teams of that junior
high school and the coaches send permission slips home after the tryouts each
season. No subsequent team has had 100% acceptance, but we are always happy to
provide the service for those who desire it.
After seeing the very positive results on his little brother, my older son
also requested a bilateral orchiectomy. By then he was 16 and able to bank
enough sperm for both his own future use and his brother's should he desire
it. I insisted that with the increasing popularity of bilateral orchiectomy he
should have enough frozen to supply others as well.
Our entire family is pleased with the results of this very minor surgical
procedure. It has had profoundly positive results for all of us.
**THE SURGICAL PROCEDURE**
A bilateral orchiectomy is considered minor surgery and is usually done on an
outpatient basis. The entire procedure takes only about an hour and the
patient can go home immediately afterwards. Most individuals require a day or
two of rest or light activity before returning to their regular routine.
One of my colleagues has put together a web page illustrating the very simple
nature of the procedure. You can see it at
. _http://www.beavercleaver.net/orchiectomy_slides.htm_
I will briefly describe the photos on that site.
The first step is for the patient to shave any hair from the area where the
surgery will be performed. This can be done the morning of the surgery before
going to the doctor's office. The doctor, or his nurse, may elect do the
shaving, but most males prefer to do their own.
Once you are in the doctor's office and have undressed, the doctor will use a
piece of tape to hold your penis out of the way while he performs the
operation. He will inject anesthesia into the area so that you will feel no
pain whatsoever. This is the part of the procedure which most patients dislike
most. They are more anxious over the few needle pricks of anesthesia than they
are over the later cutting.
The doctor will then thoroughly wash the area of the surgery with an
antiseptic solution and place a "surgical drape" over you. This is to isolate
the area and prevent any contamination.
As you can see from the illustrations, a small incision is then made and the
first testicle pulled out. The cord is clamped and then tied off before the
cord is cut. The same is done on the other side before a few small stitches
are inserted.
More antiseptic is painted on the stitches before a bandage is applied. At
this point the patient can go home. If there is any pain or swelling a couple
of ibuprofen should be sufficient. The area will probably remain somewhat
tender for about a week, though you should be able to return to any activities
other than the most strenuous within a couple of days.
**CONCLUSION**
The answer to the title "orchiectomy: is it right for you?" is obviously
"yes." Most males would benefit dramatically from this minor surgical
procedure, adding years to their life expectance and producing a much higher
quality of life. Loving parents should seriously consider giving the gift of a
bilateral orchiectomy to their sons. They will be grateful that you care
enough to do so.
**_READER'S DIGEST,_** August 2017, pages 37 - 43.
**NOTE TO READERS:**
I am an inveterate habitue of rare bookshops. Whenever I travel, I seek out
shops to indulge my addiction to old books on the history of science and
medicine. Two years ago when my wife and I were in New York, I arranged to
spend a day at the Strand while she haunted Soho.
While I was exploring the rows of dusty volumes, I happened across a tattered
copy of Reader's Digest. My first thought was that it simply didn't belong in
the store. I was about to set it aside when I notice the date on the cover:
August 2017. I read it again and decided that the magazine must be one of
those joke editions that used to be produced by college humor magazines. Since
I once wrote for one when I was a student, I decided to check it out. After
reading the table of contents and reading a few short sections, I could find
nothing humorous - other than the usual ancient jokes that have long been a
staple of Reader's Digest.
It was then that I noticed the ads. They seemed very real, not jokes, but they
also advertised products that I knew did not yet exist. They were also too
real to be part of a humor magazine. I bought the magazine, together with
enough other things that the clerk took no special notice of it.
I'm convinced that it **_IS_** an August, 2017 issue of Reader's Digest. In
the two years since I bought it, several things mentioned incidentally in
articles have come to pass and one of the products advertised has come on the
market.
I originally discovered the Eunuch Archive through trying to track down items
mentioned in the issue and I thought that the readers here would be interested
in the article through which I discovered them.
This is, however, the ONLY part of the magazine that I plan to release. I've
planned my investment strategy around the ads and should be able to leave a
reasonable estate to my children and grandchildren. I have no plans to be
greedy, but the strategy might fail if too many knew it.
I've edited the article slightly to take out a couple of mentions of future
events and I've changed the name of the doctor. The real author of the article
recently began his practice not too far from where I live now. Since my
current doctor is planning to retire soon, I may switch to this new young one
in anticipation of what he will be doing in the future.
In anticipation of the world to come, I hope you enjoy this small insight.
\------Jesus Azevado
* * * |
|
Warehouse FULL of Nuts. | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION | Filling in the Nuts. In Amy\'s society women have formally taken over the earth. Men are raised as crop to collect their semen and to harvest there cock and balls. | In the small town of Hemet, CA were many warehouses for various companies.
Most companies manufactured industrial items to food storages. In one
particular site a company by the name of Cromick Foods had there warehouse.
I work at with this current company as a package handler. I started 2 months
ago and it has been going pretty decent. Basically my job is to handle human
meat. We have a large storage center filled with thousands of husks. Husks are
very weak. The only strong part of a husk is its penis and testicles. A husks
cock is very thick, almost 7 inches around and can be as long as 18 inches
when errect. The balls are very large aswell. They vary, it can be as large as
an egg up to the size of 2 watermelons.
I usualy start the day fast. We work at a fast paced work enviornment. A husk
is brought to me and sat securely on a bench. In the middle of the bench is a
small crane, looks like a welding table. My job is to place eatch testicle
under a steel needle. The steele needle can be very thick to support the
massive nuts. Before I drop the needle in the middle of the nut I make sure
they are drain and measure the penis. Usually a suction cup is held up top to
a large tank collecting massive ammounts of semen. Many cocks are milked this
way before filling. Sometimes if we have downtime we make things fun and oraly
drain the dongs. In this particular occasion the cock is measuring 14 inches
fully errect, and 9 inches around. Its bigger then both my arms but together.
All our cocks are uncircumsied b4 usage, this is a sign of a fresh dick. My
first step is to cut the foreskin off the dick. this is usally difficult
because of the strength of the errection, I tuck my hand under the foreskin
and push down as hard as I can and tie the cock down with belts to make the
cut. I cut around the head and quickly remove the foreskin. Sometimes a penis
can get so hard that when its tied down it could snap from the base. When this
happens we quickly sever the penis off the husk. After I take care of the
foreskin I make sure the nuts are empty. For now I can only use the suction
cup to drain the nuts. After the nuts are empty I place the scrotum on the
bench and place the first ball under my needle. A large syringe is attached on
top. The nut is the size of a basketball. I cut straight down the middle of
the giant nut sack. I pull the first nut out of the sack. I lower the needle
down ready to make my poke. The syringe is filled with ground beef at the
moment. I plunge the needle down in the center of the giant testicle, a stream
of white rich semen jets from the tip of the dong hitting the ceiling and
making a loud splat. I pushed down on the syringe filling the testicle with
beef. The the nut starts to fill and the penis starts to errupt with beef. I
stop the filling and snip the giant cords. I save the cords as its filled with
beef and can be sold in markets. We place all the nuts on a tray ready to be
packaged and shipped to supermarkets across the country. I finish the second
testicle and cut the scrotum off the husk. I place the still errect cock on
the bench and tie it down. Its time to cut this dong of the husk. This is my
favorite my part. I love sawing off huge cock meat. The huge cock is also sent
to the grocery stores for great foods, I personally prefer fresh raw cock of
the body. I repeat this process hundreds times a week as does 30 other people
in the warehouse.
* * * |
True Lies (Part 5) | GAY, PENECTOMY, TESTICLES | Peter and Josh continue their conversation with Jason, the boy they met at the nudist camp. | "Peter you're not missing out by not having a dick," Jason said. "I'd like to
be like you. I think you're lucky. Being dickless will most likely save you a
lot of trouble and pain."
"You mean you want your dick cut off?" I asked Jason in disbelief. Why would
any kid want that?
"Sure," Jason replied like it was no big deal. "I also want to be castrated. I
told my dad and he agreed but he couldn't find a doctor who was willing to
castrate a healthy a boy. So Dad said that I'd just have to wait until I was
an adult and of legal age. The thing is I don't want to wait that long. I want
it done now. I know what being sexually intact dose to a man and I'm frighened
of what it might do to me in the next few years."
"You mean that your dad doesn't mind that you want to be a eunuch?" Peter
asked Jason.
"Why should he mind?" Jason replied. "Dad thinks being a eunuch is great. His
only regret is that he didn't have it done sooner. He wishes that he had been
cut right after he had me. He says that after I was born his balls had done
their job and he should have been gelded then. He said carrying them around
for another ten years was a huge mistakes and he wishes he could take it
back."
"Your dad is a eunuch?" I asked Jason. I could hardly believe my ears
"Yeah he is," Jason told me. "He was nutered last year and we both like things
a lot better the way they are now. That's why I want to be a enuch as well and
that's why dad understands. I can see that castration was the right chose for
him. I don't want to make the same mistakes he did."
"Is you dad here today?" I wanted to know, "I've never seen a eunuch before
and hadn't really expected to see one at a nudist camp." I then rolled over on
my tummy. All this talk was making me hard and I didn't want anyone to notice
my stiffy. I guess Peter was lucky that he didn't have to worry about that but
even so I wouldn't have traided places with him.
"Sure he is," Jason said proudly. "But you wouldn't know that he's a eunuch to
look at him. Dad had the doctor fix him up to look like a man."
"What do you mean the doctor fixed him up to look like a man?" Peter asked.
"Geez Peter don't you know anything? I'd have thought that a dickless boy
would know more about castration." Jason sounded exasperated. "After the
doctor took out dad's balls he put in new fake balls so dad wouldn't look any
different," Jason explained. "The doctor also cut the nerve to his dick so
that dad can never get hard again and his dick stays numb. There are no
sensory signals from his dick so he can't feel it anymore With fake balls dad
looks just like a man but nothing down there works. Some eunuchs like looking
like men and some don't. When I become a eunuch I'm going to have them take
the whole package. I don't want the fake balls and I don't want to keep my
peins or sac. Those parts just remind me of being hurt."
"What do you mean being hurt?" I wanted to know.
"Josh, have you ever slept with a man?" Jason asked.
"Not really." I answered true.
"Well I have," Jason replied. "It's fun but it hurts like crazy. When you get
into the same bed with a man it's likely that his dick will get really big and
hard. When you see a dick like that you want to play with it and kiss it and
stuff. But when you do that the man will get much too excited and he'll lose
all control of himself. If you suck a man's dick you'll drive him crazy and
he'll lose his mind for a little while. When that happens the man will take
control of you. He'll open your butt and put his dick inside you. There is
nothing you can do to stop him and it hurts like you wouldn't believe."
"Has your dad done that to you?" I asked Jason.
"Dad couldn't help it and I don't blame him," Jason said and he sounded like
he was very much ashamed. He added, "It was my fault really. When I see a big
hard dick I want to lick it and stuff and you can't do that to a man without
getting it in the end. Anyway it doesn't happen anymore. It can't. Dad can't
get hard but he doesn't mind. We still sleep together but now I know I'm safe.
I'm not going to get hurt and he knows he isn't going to hurt me. Sure I miss
his stiff dick and I guess he dose as well but it's better this way. We love
each other more than ever. We hug, and we kiss, and we cuddle but it never
gets out of hand. That's why I want to be a nullo. I want to make sure that
when I get older I'll never hurt anyone the way my dad once hurt me.
(To Be Continued)
* * * |
Mistress Lor’s Pony Slave Gelding Part I | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION | MIstress Lor meets a women who owns a Pony-Slave and then wants one for her self. | ` Mistress Lor decided to acquire a new Pony slave for her personal and
household needs and as a sign of status among the other female farm owners in
the area. It was quite the rage for the women to meet and discuss the
abilities of their various “farm animals” Lor often felt that the pony slave
was more a status symbol rather then a useful farm animal, after all we have
tractors and automation to accomplish the really difficult and backbreaking
work around the farm. She did have to admit that when she saw a male pony
slave for the first time she was so aroused, she knew someday she would have
one too. Her thoughts kept returning to that first time. There he was naked
except for his harness and Bit, tanned, toned and fit looking almost proud in
his submission to any women passing by. She remembered, he had a gold ring
hanging from the head of his dick, and how it was attached to his harness, she
remembered the owners “brand” on his left butt cheek, the tail of horse hair
attached to a butt plug inserted in his anus. `
She remembered all this and more, she remembered striking up a conversation
with the pony-slaves owners, her name was Kathy. Kathy was an attractive and
fit women like most of the women owners in the area, she was in her mid
forties and had a head of beautiful red hair, green eyes and a gentle smile,
Lor and Kathy became fast friends. Lor remembers asking Kathy about her pony-
slave, “Yes he mine” she said with the kind of pride you don’t see to often.
His name is Bill, would like to go for a ride? Sure was Lor’s answer and they
both got in the carriage and sat down, Kathy got the whip from it holder on
the right side, firmly grabbed the reins and smacked Bill’s Ass with the whip.
With a jar, they were in motion Kathy guided Bill and the carriage to the
right performing a u-turn in the middle of the street, with another smack of
the whip they were moving briskly down the street heading out of town.
Lor had a million questions for Kathy. But Kathy actually began the
conversion, she had told Lor that Bill was a trained and gelded pony slave; he
had been in service almost a year and was fast becoming her most cherished
possession. Lor asked how she had come by Bill, and Kathy told of a slave
auction held in a nearby county she had once attended. When Kathy saw Bill for
the first time she knew that she had to have him to serve her. Lor wanted to
know about Bill’s training and Kathy was happy to explain that training a
pony-slave is about as hard as training a real horse. Lor was also very
interested in knowing about the gelding of Bill. Kathy said that was the
easiest part, the vet came to the farm and performed the procedure right there
in a few minutes. “I bet Bill didn’t like that” Lor said. Kathy replied, “he
had no choice”. They both laughted.
As the Carriage pulled up to Kathy’s house, Kathy got out first and unhitched
Bill from the carriage. Lor was curious to inspect Bill and Kathy understood
her curiosity. Kathy said she would first have Bill put away the carriage and
washed down before she brought him inside the house. Kathy told Lor to go into
the house and make herself at home. A few minutes later Kathy entered the
house holding Bill by a leash attached to his permeate harness. Lor
immediately stood up upon see them enter the house. Lor walked closer to the
both of them and asked if Kathy would not mind if she was able to get a closer
look at Bill, Kathy said “go right ahead”.
There was Bill Standing in the nude even more attractive since being unhitched
and only wearing his germinate Harness. Lor asked about the gold ring in his
dick, Kathy said that was a personal touch of hers, she had read about men
having genital piercing and this one was formally called a Prince Albert or PA
for short. She said it was great for stimulating her “g-spot” when she had the
urge to fuck Bill. Lor asked about Fucking since Bill had been castrated.
Kathy laughed Bill loves to fuck even after “the chop”. Really Lor said, Oh
yes replied Kathy, just because a man docent’s have balls doesn’t mean he can
get a hard-on. Lor was bewildered by this, and her face showed this
bewilderness. Kathy Laughted, “I’ll show you” Come here Bill! Kathy said in a
stern commanding voice, without hesitation Bill moved to Kathy. Kathy grabbed
Bill’s cock and it immediately got hard and erect. Now Bill could stay like
this for hours, “think about that Lor” Kathy said with a big smile.
Kathy Suggested that since Bill was hard and Lor’s face showed a very keen
interest in his aroused dick, Kath said why don’t you give him a try? Lor with
her natural female modesty said No but with Kathy’s insitance and a few words
and moments to think about it Lor agreed. Now the nice thing about having a
gelded pony slave is that they are fit and horny but can’t cum. As the three
of them moved to the bed room Lor felt a weakness in her legs she had not felt
in years, a sense of excite began to raise, her heart beat faster she was
breathing faster too, her pussy was become wet. Upon entereing the bedroom
Kathy began to remove Bill’s leash. Kathy looking toward Lor asked her what
position is your favorite Lor replied, “I like being on top”, that’s mine too
said Kathy. With an understanding of what was to happen Bill was laid on the
bed on his back with his arms and legs spread to form an X. There were chains
already attached to the four bed posts and Bill had been well trained as a
pony-slave now sex slave.
Lor was quick to remove her clothes and her aroused nipples and pussy betrayed
her. She was still very courious about the Gelding procedure since she had
never been near a man who had it done. There Bill was chained to the bed spead
eagle with a roused dick with a beautifull gold ring it and no balls. Lor
grabbed his cock and began to yank on it “well that seems normal enough” she
said and then her hand moved his ball sac. “Yep he doesn’t have any balls,”
Lor said. Kathy laughed, He has been minus his balls for about eleven months
now. Since the law requires that all pony slaves be castrated in the first ten
days of training he was chopped right after I bought him. I had a party the
day he was castrated, I had him all groomed up and shaved he did look good. I
had the other local female owners and friends over he was beautiful and I told
all the people invited that the castration was secret and Bill would be
castrated by the Vet in front of them. It was really something. All these
women at a party admiring my stallion soon to be gelding. They would grab his
dick and balls and smile with that delight of knowing a secret. The big moment
came and the vet had setup the gelding stand. I had Bill get on the stand and
strapped down. The vet came forward with the surgical instruments and drugs
the room was deftly silent, the procedure was completed in about twenty
minutes, it was something to remember.
When Lor was finished with Bill she thanked Kathy for the hospitality of her
home and her slave and hoped that Kathy would drive Bill out to her farm
sometime soon. Kathy said she would and also handed Lor a note with the
location and contact person at the slave market a couple of counties over.
* * * |
becoming a woman for my wife | TG, Other: bisexuality | A fantasy story about becoming a woman. A surprise ending! | Becoming a woman for my wife
I thoroughly enjoy being a guy, but I have a longstanding fetish in
that I love to wear women's undergarments. That's as far as my
fetish extends; I have no desire to wear women's dresses, shoes,
make-up or anything else female. I take great delight in wearing
things like panties, pantyhose, stockings and garter belts, tap
pants, and the like under my normal work clothes. It's a real turn
on for me knowing that my colleagues in the office have no idea what
I'm wearing, plus, the lingerie I wear feels great against my skin.
Further, because I have a slender build, I also look pretty good in
women's lingerie. Occasionally, I shave my body, but generally I
wear body hair to prevent having to answer questions by curious
colleagues.
About three years ago I met a woman, and we fell in love and got
married. Neither of us wanted kids so I had a vasectomy to make
sure it would never happen. We also keep ourselves physically fit
for each other and looking as good as possible. One thing about our
marriage at the time though, my wife didn't know about my fetish,
and I wasn't sure how she'd react until she found out by accident
about three months after our marriage. That's how I became a true
woman.
We are about the same size and build so, I began to wear Dawn's sexy
underwear when she was away on business trips. One time she came
home early from a trip and insisted on making love as soon as she
got me alone. Unfortunately, she also insisted on undressing me
only to find that I was wearing her favorite stockings, garter belt,
and tap pants. She was mad at first, but as we talked about it she
seemed to accept my fetish, but wasn't keen on me wearing her things
without permission. I was happy to have my secret in the open
finally, and glad Dawn accepted it in such a good way.
About three weeks later, just after our shower together (we shower
together every day and often have sex there too), Dawn surprised me
with a "gift." It was in a beautifully wrapped box and in it were
seven pairs of my favorite sheer to the waist pantyhose, a jar of
some type of cream, and a sheet of instructions. Before I put them
on though, Dawn told me I'd have to promise her that I'd follow the
instructions completely and for the prescribed 30 day period. She
said if I did it would make me much closer to her, and that it would
even improve our sex life together. I could see she was serious
about this, so I readily agreed. After all, any opportunity to wear
women's pantyhose for a full month was worth it. Dawn was very
happy to have me agree to the arrangement such that she gave me a
big hug and we even made passionate love.
After our sex, I cleaned up and sat and read the instructions. They
were simple enough. Rub a small amount of the cream into my genital
area every day and be certain to not to miss a day, and to be sure
to thoroughly cover the entire penis and scrotum with the cream. It
continued, then wear the pantyhose provided. Then in bold type,
capital letters it stated DO NOT WASH YOUR PANTYHOSE. DO NOT USE
ANY OTHER BRAND OR TYPE OF HOSIERY EXCEPT THOSE PROVIDED. I thought
this odd, but considering I was provided with seven pairs, I figured
I could rotate the stock and make them last a month. One last note
in the instructions cautioned, "the cream might cause some temporary
genital itching and possible aches in the scrotum and testicles.
This is a minor irritant and will stop within two or three days. Do
not discontinue using the cream once you start. I thought the
caution odd, but was sure it was just the company's way to cover
their but from lawsuits.
I applied the cream as directed and slipped into the pantyhose. The
cream provided me with a gentle warm feeling in my crotch and
wearing the pantyhose provided a sensation like no other pair had
ever done. When I finished, I went into the bathroom where Dawn was
finishing her pre-dressing ritual. When she saw that I had on the
pantyhose, her eyes lighted up and she hugged me again. "You've
started the process for me," she exclaimed. "I want you to know how
much this means to me," she continued. Then she kissed me deeply
again.
I returned to the bedroom and modeled before the full-length mirror
on our wall. I had to admit to myself that I even looked fabulous
in my new garment. I was certainly looking forward to continuing
with the "process" as Dawn called it.
The first two weeks went by without a hitch. The cream provided me
with a warm contented feeling which increased with each day and each
application. So far, I experienced none of the symptoms mentioned
in the instructions, and with each passing day Dawn appeared even
more attentive to me and spoke about how much she loved me and what
fun we'd have after I finished my 30days. I asked her what was so
special about the "process" but she wouldn't answer-only smile
cryptically and tell me I'd enjoy the final results.
During the third and fourth weeks of the "process" I began to
experience some low level aches in my testicles, and I could have
sworn they felt much smaller and softer than normal. I also noticed
that the length and girth of my penis was changing; it was getting
shorter and skinnier. I thought about stopping the process, but I
had made a promise to my wife, and besides I was nearly finished
with my month long regimen. Also, the sense I was getting
throughout my body after the application of the cream was so great-a
true sense of peace and calm-that I found I was addicted to it. I
noticed that the supply of cream was running low as I neared the end
of the month.
Dawn noticed the changes in me too during our showers. She pointed
out too that my body hair had diminished dramatically and that which
remained was much finer and lighter. This, and the sight of my
diminished manhood clearly delighted her. With each passing day she
refused to tell me what would happen at the finish at the end of the
process, but she clearly approved of the changes. I was even
enjoying them in a curious way. I was looking forward to the big
finale at the conclusion of the month.
Day 28 produced significant changes which I should have found
alarming, but it seemed more surreal to me, and besides, I felt an
immense sense of peace, calm, and joy that made me want to continue
more than I wanted to stop. In the shower that morning, the balance
of my body hair washed away (I only had hair on my scalp and
eyebrows). I also noticed that my dick had withered away in length
and girth to about the size of a good size clit, and my balls had
completely dissolved; I couldn't feel any remnants of them in my
bag, nor had they retreated up into my body cavity. I also noticed
that the texture of my scrotum was changing as well. It too had
shrunk away, and was now much softer and sensitive.
Amazed at what was occurring, I commented to Dawn who was in the
shower with me. She just held me in a warm embrace and consoled me
with, "Isn't it beautiful what you are becoming? Soon your
transformation to a woman will be complete. There is nothing you
can do now to prevent it." With that she dropped down and fellated
the remnants of my manhood until I came. The orgasm I experienced
(the first in nearly a month) was completely different than any I
had ever had in my life. The pleasure radiated up from my dick into
my breasts which tingled delightfully as I came.
After we finished our shower, Dawn insisted in drying me off and it
was clear that she now liked what she saw. I caught a glimpse of
myself in the bathroom mirror and could hardly believe what I saw.
I looked the same, but yet completely different. The hard lines of
my male body had softened dramatically, and my nipples had also
begun to enlarge.
"What's happening to me?" I asked my lovely wife as she dried me
off. She looked up at me with a smile on her lips and in her eyes
and said, "you are soon to become a woman. You told me how much you
enjoy dressing in my sexy panties and bras, well I have connections
that I used to help make it possible for you to be able to
experience dressing like a woman a reality. I'm sure you will enjoy
it completely when we are finished in two days."
My mind was reeling with what she had said. I wanted to fight what
she had done, but I realized it was I who agreed to her pleas for me
to follow through with the full 30 day process. Then I began to
wonder what it was that Dawn hoped to get from my transformation. I
have to ask later. Just now I heard Dawn calling me from the
bedroom, "time for us to apply the cream and dress you in your
pantyhose." I couldn't resist as I was addicted to the pleasurable
experience produced by the cream.
Day 29-More changes. As I woke up and pulled the sheet away, I
noticed that my chest felt different and much more sensitive. I sat
up, looked down only to discover that my nipples had not only
continued to increase in size and sensitivity, but I was also
developing breasts! It was more like a dream as I explored the
changes occurring in my body. If my breasts were changing what had
become of my manhood? I stood up, slipped down my pantyhose, leaned
forward and checked out my crotch only to discover that during the
night, I had begun to develop the clear pattern of a mons and vulva.
My penis had retracted yet further, and my scrotum had split
causing an opening into my body. It was clear that my scrotum was
becoming a set of labia majora (outer lips) of a vagina!
I was at once, shocked and intrigued by the transformation I was
undergoing. I woke Dawn to show her how much I had changed during
the night. She was overjoyed at what she saw. To her this was
either a dream come true, or a case of sweet revenge. I wasn't
sure. She told me to lie back while she examined me.
Examine she did, but mostly with her tongue and mouth. First, she
gently kissed my nipples, and then sucked my budding breasts into
her mouth. The sensation was sublime! Now I began to understand
why Dawn liked to have my suck her tits-the feelings it causes is
fantastic! The sensations of warmth and tingliness traveled across
my chest and directly down to my crotch. I had to have Dawn and she
knew just what to do. She reached down and gently began caressing
my new pussy. It still was inconceivable to me that I was
transforming from a man to a woman, and that I was gaining a vagina.
This was evolving to be much more fun than being a man. I could
not wait to finish with my last day of the process, and become a
full-fledged woman. I called work to let them know I would need to
extend the leave of absence I took two weeks earlier for another two
weeks. I had to figure out how to explain my metamorphosis.
Day 30-complete. I awoke feeling like I had never felt before. My
mind was clear, I was at peace with the world, and life was
wonderful. I looked over at my still sleeping wife and realized how
beautiful she was. Gently I pulled back the sheet and I sucked one
of her soft nipples into my mouth. It was not as I had remembered
in the past, rather, the experience turned me on and made my own new
breasts tingle, and my pussy all warm!
My pussy! I realized that today was the last day of the process and
that I was now a woman. I jumped up from the bed, pulled off my
pantyhose, and stood staring at myself in the full-length mirror. I
was stunned. Reflected back at me was a very beautiful woman with
perfect breasts capped by puffy nipples. A woman with a pussy that
memory told me, men would kill to eat! I moved closer to the mirror
and checked out the final changes. My new pussy didn't have hair
covering it as all my hair was washed away long ago, so I got an
unobstructed view of my new vulva (mons, outer labia, and newly
descended inner labia.). I stood incredulous at the sight of myself
in the mirror-a complete woman!
Dawn had woken and watched as I checked myself over in the mirror.
"Like what you see, I can tell." So do I . I can't wait to be the
first to eat that brand new pussy," Dawn said with a smile on her
face. "Come over here and let me check you over, my little woman,"
she ordered as she patted the bed next to her. I jumped in and
asked her to check m over very thoroughly to make sure everything
had turned out alright.
Dawn obliged and poked and prodded me thoroughly. After some time
she assured me that I was now a 100% woman. That made me think:
"If I am a woman on the outside, am I also one on the inside?" I
asked Dawn if she knew. She assured me I had "all" the female stuff
inside too. Then she warned me, "Be careful, you can now get
pregnant if you play with fire. We can get you fixed later if you
want." She continued, "The process made you a complete woman in
every way. You will menstruate soon, have PMS, can get pregnant,
breast feed, experience menopause, and every other wonderful thing
about being a woman."
Again, my mind was a flood with questions. I started asking
everything at once. Dawn answered my questions each in turn.
Finally, I asked, "where did you ever find "the process" that you
gave me, and was this a dream for you, or was it revenge for me
wearing your lingerie?" Dawn smiled at me and said, "I may reveal
the secret of where to get the gender change kit at some time in the
future. But for your second question, your transformation into a
woman is a dream come true for me. Ever since my wife used "the
process" on me, I have wanted a woman for my own. Now I have
one….you!
Prologue
After my shock of learning that Dawn was also formerly a man like
me, she confided that her wife used the process as a means of
revenge for him cheating on her. After she was finished, she left
him for another man. Dawn told me she had also shared a love of
wearing women's clothing, and that she sensed I did too while we
were both at a bar one evening. Seems it's hard to sidle up to a
urinal when one is wearing pantyhose, and Dawn noticed I'd use the
toilet whenever I pissed. S/he was in the next stall and caught a
glimpse of my hose under the wall separating the stalls. His
"process" was well under way at that time and when it finished and
his wife left him after his transformation was complete, Dawn
decided to meet me and make me her own.
Dawn got my cherry so to speak, and introduced me to the world of
lesbian love and the fun you can have with a dildo. We are still
together and I love Dawn more than ever. She was right. becoming a
woman certainly did bring us closer even if we were just a couple of
guys before. I also love being able to shop in the women's
departments now and freely buying the sexiest undies and clothes. |
A Smithsfield's Boy is a Boy Forever | GAY, TESTICLES, MINOR | A sadistic young bully forces a younger boy to fellate him before other boys. He is arrested and sentenced to the notorious Smithsfield Correctional Institute where, unable to conceal his lust,to protect the other inmates, he is made a boy forever | Author's Note:
This is a sequel, twenty-five years later, to "Mass Castrations at the
Smithsfield Correctional Institute". It details the offence and treatment of a
teen-aged inmate in 1897. All persons, places, and events in this story are
fictional and any resemblance to actual persons, living (after 110 years ? !)
or dead, places, or events is purely coincidental.
Hector Bolton was well-named after the blustering bully of the Iliad. He was
brutal and cruel to any boy smaller and weaker than he. He especially enjoyed
hitting or kicking other boys in the groin or grabbing their testicles and
squeezing them.
Hector had an unusually large penis for his age and masturbated several times
daily. He delighted to show off his massive male organ to other boys and to
masturbate in front of them, especially those who were unable to masturbate
yet.
At fourteen, he was getting to be too well known to Judge Mayfield, having
spent several nights in jail and three one-month sentences in the Marlburgh
Correctional Institute for Boys for various instances of cruelty or brutality
to younger boys. Finally, though, he went too far.
Hector despised a skinny timid kid named Billy Hall and tormented him at every
opportunity. One day, before a group of other older boys, he forced Billy , by
threatening to tear out his testicles, to suck his penis and swallow his
semen. Trembling and weeping, Billy did as he was told. After he swallowed
Hector's semen, Billy vomited violently and became hysterical from shame and
humilation.
Though one or two boys jeered and laughed at Billy, most of them were
disgusted by what Hector had done. Two of them brought the boy home, sobbing
uncontrollably, and told Billy's father what Hector had done. Five other boys
followed them and told Mr. Hall that they were willing to testify against
Hector in Juvenile Court, if it came to that.
Billy was emotionally shattered and had to be sedated by the family doctor.
Mr. Hall called the police and reported Hector's indecent assult on Billy.
Hector was arrested on charges of indecent exposure and indecent assault.
Hector's parents, finally outraged by his behaviour, refused to hire a lawyer
for him and he was defended in Juvenile Court by the Public Defender.
Judge Mayfield's patience with Hector was exhausted . He decided to "throw the
book at" Hector . At fourteen, Hector would still have to be tried as a
juvenile, but Judge Mayfield was determined, if Hector were convicted, to
sentence him to the maximum the law allowed, to wit, three years and eleven
months (until his 18th birthday) at Smithsfield Reformatory, where sex
offenders and youths convicted of violent crimes were incarcerated. There, if
Hector molested any other inmate in any way, he would be castrated.
Though the newspaper was very discrete about avoiding any offense to public
decency, the news got out rapidly through the grapevine and , well before the
trial, everyone in town knew what Hector had done. So, the trial was rather
sensational.Because of his upset emotional state , Billy was allowed to
testify by deposition and not required to face Hector in court which would
have given rise to an hysterical scene .
Seven witnesses, however, having briefed themselves on the proper medical
language to use to avoid uttering obscenities, testified against Hector. The
Public Defender made no effort to discredit their veracity or their
reliability as witnesses but merely questioned each on a few details of his
testimony, mostly for clarification.
No one testified in Hector's favor. He had few friends and none who were
willing to appear in court on his behalf. Conspicuously, his parents did not
attend the trial.
Hector's testimony on his own behalf consisted merely in saying that he was
"just fooling around" and meant no harm. It did not appear that anyone
believed him. Almost needless to say, he was found guilty.
Before sentencing him, Judge Mayfield stated that there could be no excuse for
his "vicious, indecent, and disgusting behavour". Then he sentenced Hector
Bolton to three years and eleven months,i.e.,until his eighteenth birthday, to
confinement without option of parole at the Smithsfield Correctional
Institute.
By the time he was brought to Smithsfield the next day, Hector had recovered
much of his old cockiness. As soon as he was inside the door, a guard told him
to "Go over to that wall and walk along it until I tell you to stop." Hector
retorted "Fuck you !" The guard gave Hector a backhanded slap which threw him
across the hall against the wall. Hector got up with his fists raised.
Another guard whom he hadn't seen grabbed him from behind and held him in a
half nelson. The first guard grabbed Hector's testicles through his trousers
and squeezed them until Hector was faint. Then he snarled "Get this through
your head , you little turd, we're in charge here and we can do anything we
want to you. If any guard or officer talks to you, you answer him politely
with 'Yes, sir' or 'No, sir' because, if you use one dirty word, we'll beat
the shit out of you. Now, walk along that wall like I told you to."
Thoroughly subdued, Hector staggered along the wall bent over and holding his
groin with both hands. "Stop at that door and straighten up. That's the
Superintendent's office. He wants to talk to you. Remember 'Yes, sir' and 'No,
sir' ." The guard went into the office with some papers and then returned to
Hector. "Alright, come in."
Hector followed him into the Superintendent's office. The guard stood beside
the door and Hector stood before the Superintendent's desk. The Superintendent
looked up from the papers and said "Bolton, you're here for molesting a
younger boy. While you are here, you will molest no one. If you do, you will
be castrated. Do you know what that word means ?" "Yes, sir." Hector replied.
"If you even seem likely to molest other boys, you will be castrated.
Understand that this is not a punishment, it is a precautionary measure, taken
to protect the other inmates."
"Mr. Evans" here the Superintendent nodded toward the guard by the door,"will
take you to your dormitory where a trusty will issue you a uniform and give
you instructions. If you know what is good for you, you will give me no reason
to talk to you here again until the day when you are released. You may take
him away now, Mr. Evans." The guard nodded and said "Yes, sir."
The trusty turned out to be an ungainly-looking seventeen-year-old named
Alvin. Once the guard was gone, Alvin asked Hector "You still got balls ?"
Hector nodded and asked "You ?" Alvin shook his head. "Be real careful, or you
won't have 'em long. Don't ever touch another inmate anywhere below the belt.
Don't let a guard catch you jerking off, and for God's sake, NEVER get a boner
in the shower . "
"What did you do ?" asked Hector. "Jerked off in the shower after everybody
else was gone. I didn't think the guard was still there. What're you here for
?" Hector sighed. "Made a kid suck me off in front of bunch of other guys. You
?" "Murder, in the second degree." Hector recoiled. I killed my old man when
he tried to cut my balls off after he caught me fucking my best friend in the
ass. And then, I ended up getting them cut off here, anyhow."
"What happens when you're eighteen ?" Alvin shrugged his shoulders. "I go
before a board and they decide whether to send me to the pen. or let me go. I
don't have much hope. Still, I'm a trusty here, and I'm nutless. Maybe,
they'll think I'm harmless. "
Hector was issued an ill-fitting uniform: black mid-thigh short pants, orange
shirt, and black necktie. "Gawd, it looks like a Hallowe'en costume" said
Hector. Alvin laughed. "It's Hallowe'en here every day. You won't start taking
classes until Monday, so you have to work cleaning the dorm. You'll find a
push-broom, a mop, and a bucket in that closet. At 5:00, you quit work and we
all take a shower. Remember DON'T GET A BONER whatever you do. "
"Aw, I've seen naked guys before. That's not going to give me a boner." Alvin
shook his head. "You haven't seen naked eunuchs. Some of us have tits." Hector
didn't believe that he was sexually interested in either boys or eunuchs. In
this, he was obviously deceiving himself. He thought of queer men as being
nancy-boys who lisped and walked like women.
At 5:00 PM, a bell rang and soon the inmates filed back into their dormitory
to stand by their beds while a guard checked to be sure that all were present
and accounted for. Then they were marched in single file to a locker room
where they undressed and proceeded to the shower room. At the door a trusty
handed out soap. Beside him stood a guard who paid special attention to any
sexually intact boys and watched their behaviour in the shower room.
Hector had never seen a eunuch before and he was surprised at their
appearence. As he might have expected, they all had shrunken withered penises
with nothing behind them. But also, they had smooth, soft, hairless bodies
with wide hips and prominent buttocks, and about half of the eunuchs had
breasts, real girlish breasts.
Though there were a few intact males like himself in the room, most of the
boys were eunuchs.
To his dismay, Hector found himself getting aroused. He hadn't masturbated in
nearly two weeks and he was so horny that his testicles ached. Looking down at
himself, he was alarmed to find that he had gotten a boner, a very conspicuous
boner. Quickly, he turned to the wall to try to hide it and hoped that it
hadn't been seen. Through the corner of his eye, though, he could see the
guard outside the door and he seemed to be looking right at Hector.
Hector turned his back toward the door and hoped and prayed that his boner
would go down before he had to leave the shower room. But, when he turned , he
found himself staring right at the behind of a very attractive curvaceous
eunuch of about his own age. His boner got harder than ever, just what he did
not need or want. He wished that he dared to masturbate to relieve it, but he
was sure that the guard would be able to tell what he was doing.
The guard called out "OK, rinse off and come out." Hector's boner hadn't
relaxed a bit and was standing up at about a 60ş angle to his belly. It just
would NOT go down. The trusty was handing out towels as they emerged. As
Hector picked up his towel, the guard said to him "Dry yourself and come with
me." Hector's heart sank, but his stiff penis didn't. His body had betrayed
him !
The guard marched Hector buck-naked out of the locker room and down the middle
of a long corridor in which there were other guards and clothed inmates
marching along the walls. Everyone could see the newcomer in the middle of the
corridor with a boner and knew where he was bound. Even fear of what he knew
was going to happen didn't make Hector's damning boner relax.
They entered the infirmary through a swinging door. A man in a white smock,
seated behind a table looked up and said "Ah, Officer McGuire, you've brought
me a deviate, I see." The guard laughed and said "Yessir,Doc, he got hot as a
$2 pistol when he saw the other boys naked in the shower." The doctor nodded
and replied "Well, we can't have that, now, can we ? I'll have to cool him off
with my scalpel."
"Please, doctor, don't cut my balls off" whined Hector. "I swear I won't touch
any of the other boys, honest I won't." The doctor shook his head and asked
"What are you here at Smithsfield for ?" Hector knew that, if he lied, the
doctor would soon find out the truth anyhow. He hung his head and said
"indecent assult." The doctor nodded. "So much for your promise. Bring him
into the operating room, Mr. McGuire."
Officer McGuire pushed Hector through a doorway into an adjoining room where
there was an operating table and a young man in a white smock. "This kid's
here to get castrated." he announced. "Alright, help me strap him down."
answered the young man. Hector climbed up onto the table and the two men
strapped his ankles to the corners of the table, his wrists, chest and waist
to rails at the sides. Then the guard went out.
By this time, Hector had lost his boner. The young man introduced himself.
"I'm Dr. Tapette, Dr. Snyder's assistant. I have to prepare you for surgery.
That will take between ten and fifteen minutes. When you're ready, I'll call
Dr. Snyder in. Dr. Tapette took ahold of Hector's penis and gently stroked it.
Hector's boner returned instantly.
"You have a beautiful cock. It's a shame that it has to be put out of business
so soon. Would you like me to suck you off for the last time ? Hector answered
instantly, "Would I ? You'd better believe it !" Dr. Tapette bent down and
took the entire length of Hector's long stiff penis into his mouth and throat
and began sucking on it, swirling his tongue around the glans on the out-
strokes. He gently fondled Hector's testicles, aching with accumulated semen .
Hector would have liked to make his last sex act last much longer, but he was
so horny after two weeks without relief that he couldn't . Much as he tried to
hold back and make it last, after about two minutes, his pent-up gism bursted
out in a great torrent. Dr. Tapette was expecting it, however, and accomodated
Hector's hot thick load. Hector's balls discharged it all in seven great
spurts and a bit of post-orgasmic dribbling. The young doctor worked the last
drops out of Hector's urethra by running his thumb along the underside of his
softening penis. Hector gave a great sigh and Dr. Tapette gave vent to a long
"Ahhhhhhhhh".
Then the young intern lathered Hector's pubic area and shaved off every bit of
his thick black pubic hair. Hector was sad to see it go because he knew that,
without balls, it would never grow back. He hadn't started to shave yet, so he
would never need a razor.
Next, Dr. Tapette applied a tincture of carbolic acid to Hector's scrotum, the
insides of his thighs, perineum, and penis. Hector cried out in a panic "He's
not going to cut that off, too, is he ?" Dr. Tapette laughed. "No, no, he's
just going to make a very small incision at the back of the glans."
Finally, Dr. Tapette filled a hypodermic syringe with a solution of cocaine
and injected it into the scrotum in four places about an inch from Hector's
body. More cocaine was injected into the perineum back near the anus and into
the penis just behind the glans. After a few minutes, Dr. Tapette injected the
anaesthetic through the scrotum into the spermatic cords close to the place
where they would be cut. "There, now, you won't feel a thing. Dr. Snyder likes
the patient to be conscious so that he can talk to him and explain what is
being done and why." Hector thought that he would just as soon dispense with
the lecture.
Dr. Tapette left the room to fetch Dr. Snyder, giving Hector a few minutes to
recall how wonderful it had felt to be sucked off and to feel bitter regret
that he would never experience that pleasure again. Altogether too soon, Dr.
Tapette returned with Dr. Snyder who washed his hands, first with soap and
water and then with alcohol. Dr. Tapette set out the instruments and an open
jar of alcohol with a screw-on lid on which there was a label pasted bearing
the inscription "Hector Bolton, age 14." Now, what was THAT for wondered
Hector ?
Dr. Snyder explained what he was about to do. "This surgery is being performed
to make you harmless to the other inmates. It is authorized by the
Superintendent's mandate which states that he shall 'take whatever measures
are necessary to protect the health and safety of the inmates.' While waiting
for you to be prepared for surgery I have read the report of the offense for
which you were sentenced to 3 years and 11 months here. The nature of that
offense makes it clear that you are a menace to the health and well-being of
the other inmates, as does your sexual arousal in the shower today.
Removing your testicles will render you harmless in time, however, in some
cases, a eunuch may retain both sexual desire and erectile capability for
weeks or even months after castration. As it is necessary that you be made
harmless immediately, it is customary to sever the erectile nerves to the
penis, thus paralyzing it and preventing further erections and to resect the
pudendal nerve, depriving the organ of sensation . Once this surgery has been
done, your penis will be permanently flaccid, that is limp, and numb."
Having explained what he was about to do, Dr. Snyder proceeded to do it.
First, he cut into the scrotum about an inch from Hector's body with the
surgical scissors and cut around it until the major part of the scrotum was
severed. Hector's testicles spilled out onto the table, but, of course, he
couldn't feel it. Next, Dr. Snyder clamped the spermatic cords with haemostats
and then, about each cord, he tied two tight gut ligatures about ˝ inch apart.
Hector didn't want to watch, but he would have heard what was being done
anyhow. He saw the scissors applied to the left spermatic cord and heard the
"snip" as the cord was severed. Dr. Snyder lifted the severed testicle and
deposited it in the jar of alcohol. So THAT'S what it was for ! Hector watched
through tear-filled eyes as the surgical scissors ended his masculinity by
severing his right spermatic cord.Though he was trying to be brave, Hector
couldn't suppress a sob as he saw his last testicle lifted away from his body
and dropped into the jar.
There remained now only the business of cutting the nerves to his penis. Dr.
Snyder made an incision in Hector's perineum near to his prostate gland,
exposing the two erectile nerves and the pudendal nerve. He caught each nerve
with a blunt hook and twisted it until he had twisted up about two inches of
the nerve into a skein about one inch long which he snipped close to the
incision with the surgical scissors. The erectile nerves caused no pain, but,
despite the cocaine, the pudendal nerve hurt.
Next, Dr. Snyder made an incision behind the corona of the glans penis and
exposed the distal end of the pudendal nerve. Gripping the nerve with forceps,
he severed it and slowly pulled the entire length of the pudendal nerve from
the glans to the perineum out of Hector's penis, assuring that there could
never be any feeling in it again.
Finally, Dr. Snyder sutured the remains of Hector's scrotum together, closed
the incisions with a few stitches, and applied dressings. It was done. Now,
Hector was really a Smithsfield's boy and a Smithsfield's boy is a boy
forever.
* * * |
Punishment for a Repentent Pervert - Part I | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES | A flasher who is normally content with just exposing himself, goes one step too far and assaults a young woman. He is consumed with guilt and determined to prevent that happening again. He wishes to be castrated, but can he go through with it? | ` PART ONE `
Why did he do it? John couldn’t easily say. But for two months he had paid a
heavy price for his lust. Guilt hung over him like a heavy blanket he was
unable to shake off.
But soon, the waiting and the agony would be over. He disliked hospitals –
even smart private clinics like this one. Yet he was here out of choice.
It was his decision and his alone: to be castrated as a punishment for what he
had done and to stop him reoffending ever again.
They weren’t ready for him yet and the delay was agonising. He flicked through
the magazines but couldn’t concentrate. He sat there motionless, staring
fixedly at the wall, lost in thought, pondering his empty life.
John was 30, single and unemployed. He lived by himself in a small, run-down
bedsit on the outskirts of town. His grimy front window which he could never
bother to clean looked out on to the street outside.
Often he would fill the empty hours staring listlessly through the dirty glass
from behind net curtains.
It was usually fairly quiet. The occasional passer-by would stroll along – and
John would watch them absent mindedly. But one particular day, he took more
notice. A girl was walking along. She was around 17 with long blonde hair and
pretty blue eyes. She wore a white patterned dress with little pink sequins
braided into it. She looked happy and as the sun caught her dress, the sequins
twinkled.
There was a twinkle in John’s eye too. The light white fabric was no match for
strong summer sunshine which cut straight through it.
John stared in fascination at those strong slim legs beneath her skirt. But
looking at her wasn’t enough for him. John was a flasher. “Just one more
time,” he said to himself. He removed his jeans and underpants and grabbed his
pair of running shorts which he put on, forcing his semi erect penis inside
them.
And then, he slipped out of the door, gently closing it behind him. The girl
was approaching the end of the street. There were roads either side but
straight ahead was a dead end, save for a sandy path which led to woodland.
“Please go in the wood, please,” implored John as he silently ran after her.
He was in luck. She did so and John, panting in anticipation, caught her up
and ran straight past her.
Sarah thought nothing of it. He was just another jogger; two had already
huffed and puffed past her earlier on. As for her, she was in no hurry. She
was off for a nice walk through the woods, all alone save for the birds, the
butterflies and the trees.
John had kept jogging for a good way until the path led into thick woodland.
He looked around carefully. No-one was about. He stepped off the path behind a
tree which still afforded him a view of the route the girl would take.
John pulled down his shorts, almost ripping them as he struggled to push them
off his shoes. He threw them to the floor. He took his now erect penis into
his hand. He began to masturbate slowly and carefully, eyes fixed on the path.
Suddenly Sarah appeared and began to walk along it.
Part II to follow
* * * |
An Encounter with Goddess Demoness | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES, Extreme Torture and Violence | Castration, extreme torture and lesbian encounters.Goddess Demoness is a man hating Lesbian and for Her reality, this story would be tame.Contact Her only if you dare the ultimate. | ` An Encounter with Goddess Demoness `
by Ian Clifford
While chatting with extremepainslave at the Archive Chat though the BME Eunuch
Archive, I asked him about Mistress Demon. I was told that he knows Her by
another person at Archive Chat. He took my E-Mail address and E-Mailed me. He
told me that Mistress Demon's profile is at MistressDemon at www.alt.com.
I went to www.alt.com and searched MistressDemon. Her profile came up and gave
considerable information about Her.
Goddess Demoness is a dark, extremely evil Mistress. She is a Female
Supremacist and enjoys inflicting the most severe pain, particularly on men.
She enjoys the castration fetish and destroying a man's manhood for Her
pleasure, turning them into sexless slaves. She is man hating Lesbian and a
true extremist, a sadistic bitch. She inflicts unbelievable genital pain on
those dreaming of the knife. She wishes all like men, " sweet eunuch dreams "
until the time their dreams are brought to reality and the think " why did I
do this ".
She is 23 years old, of Hispanic origin, stands 5'9", has an average body
type, long black hair with black eyes, has trimmed pubic hair and has a 36C
bra size.
She enjoys full time (24/7 ) slaves, love of pain, breath play, blood sports,
severe cock and ball torture, branding, sadism, whips and of course the most
brutal of castration.
She is a true rereading Goddess, the most cruel, evil bitch ever and will only
be called Goddess or Demoness. Goddess Demoness is the female personification
of Evil. All slave letters to Her must be in great rereading are discarded.
After reading and rereading Her profile, decided to send Her an E-Mail:
To: Goddess Demoness
From: Ian Clifford
Subject: Castration Fixation
Divine Goddess Demoness;
For many years, I have been fixated with the idea of surrendering to a
Dominant Woman to be surgically castrated for Her amusement as well as for my
own good. After reading Your profile at www.alt.com, I have decided to write
to You and implore You to castrate me and fulfill my long term fantasy. You
are one outstandingly gorgeous Woman and it would indeed be an honour for me
to surrender my balls for You. I sincerely hope that my humble offering is
pleasing to you and that you thoroughly enjoy taking this offering from my
possession
Page One
I am a 52-year-old married male. My wife, Shelly, agrees with my decision to
seek castration and agrees that it's for the best. She wishes to witness my
castration and is available for any questions you may wish to ask Her.
I have absolutely no experience in domination and submission. I tell you this
not to appeal for mercy, quite the reverse, I truly believe that castration
should be done in the most brutal and painful manner possible, both before,
during and after the procedure. The reason is so it would be indelibly etched
in my memory and I would always remember my castration. I also believe in
Universal Castration in that all males after reaching puberty and making a
sperm donation for the continuance of the species, should be routinely
castrated for the benefit of society and of mankind
.
Please contact me as I wish to get this over with as soon as possible. Both my
wife and I are very eager to have me neutered.
Humbly Yours, ian
She returned my E-Mail:
To: slave ian
From Goddess Demoness
Subject: your torture and castration
Hi slave ian;
So you want severe torture with your castration. I will give you unbelievable
agony that you'll remember for the remainder of your life. I want your sorry
hide for two weeks. The first week you'll endure severe torture so you will be
in constant agony. At the end of the first week you will be castrated - very
painfully. After you have been made an eunuch, you will endure another week of
the most severe torture imaginable. By the time you leave here you will be
horse from constant screaming. Many of My slaves who endure only part of what
you have asked for and will get, have asked me to mercifully put them to death
to end the suffering. For you, there will be no mercy, only more pain than you
could possibly imagine. I'm looking forward to having you here.
Dominantly Yours, Goddess Demoness
I gave Goddess Demoness my home address and telephone number. One day, while
Shelly was out of town on a trip, I was at my computer. I was about to E-Mail
Her to make arrangements to travel to Her for Her treatment, when the doorbell
rang. When I answered the door, there were two Amazon females who asked for
me. I identified myself as Ian. They told me they were sent by Goddess Demon
to discuss my situation and that they were Judy and Dianne. I invited them in.
These two women were over six feet tall and looked very strong. Once inside
they grabbed me and pulled my hands behind my back and snapped on handcuffs.
At 5'6" and 130 lbs., I was no match for them. They took me outside where a
limousine awaited. They put me in the back and we drove to the airport. They
placed me on a private jet and the jet took off with the three of us as
passengers.
Page Two
" Relax, ian, we're taking you to Goddess Demoness. your treatment will begin
when we arrive. you're going to get what you asked for and there's no way out.
You will be castrated and tortured beyond anything imaginable. "
We arrived at another airport. We deplaned and I was escorted to another
limousine. We drove to a country home, a large mansion on a large estate. We
were greeted after we drove up by a lady in a French maid's uniform. The two
Amazons took me inside and escorted me to a drawing room where Goddess
Demoness awaited my arrival.
Goddess Demoness was seated in a lounge chair which most closely resembled a
throne. I had never seen Her in person and my jaw dropped in awe of Her
exceptional beauty. I fell to my knees before Her magnificence.
" Goddess, I am honoured to be in Your presence. You are gorgeous beyond any
man's belief and it will indeed be an honour to suffer for You and to be
castrated by You. Thy will be done, Goddess."
" Take slave ian to the slave quarters, Your torture will begin tomorrow "
Judy and Dianne escorted me downstairs past the dungeon area to the slave
quarters. I was shown to a small room containing a cot with toothbrush,
toothpaste and shaving equipment on a shelf.
" This is your home for the next two weeks. The bathroom and shower facilities
are down the hall. Goddess Demoness expects the highest level of cleanliness
from her slaves at all times."
The click of the barred door on their way out was testimony to the fact that I
was destined to endure what I had asked for and would get, and that there was
no way out. I slept fitfully in anticipation and the next morning, Judy and
Dianne appeared at my cell door.
" We will take you to use the bathroom after which we'll take you to the
dungeon for your first treatment. Do you understand? "
" Yes, " I said feebly.
I was escorted to the bathroom and then to the dungeon. We went through the
dungeon to an area where four posts were secured into the cement floor. I was
instructed to lie down in the middle of the four posts. My wrists and ankles
were secured and fastened to the four posts. I was spreadeagled and secured
and awaiting their pleasure.
Goddess Demoness entered the dungeon. She was dressed in a black leather
jumpsuit. She looked exceptionally gorgeous. I was totally surprised to see my
wife, Shelly with Her. When She came to the area, She commented:
Page Three
"Shelly has been my house guest for the past few day. She is here to witness
your treatment. First, We're all going to kick the hell out of your balls.
You'll scream and cry which is what we expect. You're going to know the
meaning of sore balls. "
Goddess Demoness stepped between my spread thighs. I got an immediate erection
from being in the presence of such a gorgeous woman. She kicked me in the
balls hard. I could only scream out in pain and started crying. Judy came over
to where my head was. I saw her lift her skirt and noticed She had no panties
on. She straddled my head and lowered her Womanly butt onto my upturned face.
I continued to scream in pain into her smothering pussy. I lapped at her sweet
pussy as the onslaught on my balls continued.
Goddess Demoness continued kicking my balls for what seemed like an eternity.
She stopped her onslaught and her place was taken by Dianne. Dianne continued
the onslaught on my unprotected balls. The pain was unbelievable and I
continued to scream into Judy's smothering pussy. I continued lapping Judy's
sweet pussy as she smothered me. After what seemed like an eternity of agony,
Dianne stopped kicking my balls and she and Judy traded palaces. I watched as
Dianne's Womanly butt descended on my face and Judy started kicking my groin.
After even more agony, Judy stopped. Dianne got off my face and when I looked
down through streamed eyes, I could see that my balls were purple and
extremely swollen. They then took turns stomping on my genitals and other
parts of my body. I thought my balls would crush or pop. The pain was severe
in the extreme. My legs, arms, and chest as well as my genitals were stomped
on excessively.
They released me and led me to a table. I was placed on the table, my arms
stretched above my head and restrained. My ankles were fastened to the ends of
a spreader bar and the spreader bar hoisted upward. A large belt secured the
front of my waist to the table. I was totally immobile and my balls were at
the end of the table awaiting their wills.
" Now we're going to turn your genitals into a pin cushion." , said Goddess
Demoness.
She pulled on rubber gloves. Through blurred eyes I could see a tray
containing many needles. My battered body was in extreme pain and I felt
extremely weak.
Mistress Demon selected needles from the tray and pushed them into and through
my genitals. My cock looked like a virtual pin cushion and many needles were
stuck into my balls. The pain was intense and I screamed in absolute agony.
She then pulled the needles out one by one and my genitals became covered with
blood. She left one needle in each testicle which protruded about a half inch.
She went to the Ball Fryer. The Ball Fryer is a device which runs on 110 volt
wall current. In the box the 110 volt current is converted to direct current
which has more bite and outputs through two switches into two leads ending in
alligator clips. There is a momentary switch for a short burst of current and
an off/on switch for longer torture.
Page Four
She connected the two leads to the ends of the two needles protruding. When
She pressed the momentary switch I convulsed as the current flowed through my
balls. I screamed as the intense pain assailed my balls. After several jolts
of current, She turned on the Ball Fryer and the ladies left the room. I was
left alone convulsing and screaming as the Ball Fryer fried my balls. Half an
hour later they returned. She shut off the Ball Fryer. The smell of my cooking
balls permeated the room.
She then took a barbecue skewer and pushed it from left to right through both
of my balls. She took a bottle of iodine and poured it over my genitals. It
burned like Hell and my screams reached a fever pitch.
" Judy, sit on this pig's face, My ears are getting sore from listening to his
screams.. I would think he would be more considerate."
Judy climbed up on the table and plopped down on my face. I began to lap Her
pussy furiously as She smothered me. I continued screaming into Her smothering
pussy.
Goddess Demoness noted, " he's bleeding too much. I'll have to do something to
cauterize the wounds. And, I'm going to leave that skewer through your balls
until I take them off. "
She took a small pot of boiling olive oil and poured it over my genitals. My
screams intensified as the hot oil cauterized my wounds and burned into my
flesh. I was then released. I couldn't walk, the pain in my genital area was
so great. I was dragged over to a Punishment Block and laid face down over the
block. My ankles were fastened to the back feet and my wrists to the front
feet. A belt secured the back of my waist to the Block.
Judy and Dianne selected two punishment canes and stood behind me on either
side.
Goddess Demoness announced, " now, Judy and Dianne are going to skin your
unworthy backside and you'd better appreciate their efforts. Ladies you may
begin. "
Judy brought the first lash down hard on my naked posterior. I screamed out in
pain but the scream was cut short as Dianne brought the second lash down hard.
The continued alternating until they'd laid on a hundred strokes each. I could
feel the blood flowing down the backs of my legs The pain was unbelievable and
I screamed constantly.
" What do you have to say, slave ian "
Through a flood of tears I blurted, " thank you for the whipping Ladies. "
They released me and dragged me from the room. On the way out, I saw Shelly.
She had witnessed the entire scene of torture and had orgasmed hard. She was
in Goddess Demoness's arms as she came down from the orgasm.
Page Five
My torture through for the day, I was returned to my cell. Later that night I
was taken from my cell to witness a lesbian orgy.
I was escorted to a large opulent room. I was seated in a chair and tied into
it. In the centre of the room is a large king sized bed. Goddess Demoness.
Judy, Dianne and Shelly were naked on the bed. I have never before in my life
seen a more beautiful sight. Mistress Demoness and Shelly got off the bed.
Mistress Demoness pulled Shelly across Her lap and began hand spanking her
backside. Shelly moaned and groaned as the blows rained down. Soon her ass was
glowing bright red. After continuing the spanking, Shelly came with a shudder.
They both climbed back up onto the bed.
Judy and Dianne were already engaged in an intense session of lesbian
lovemaking. Goddess Demoness held Shelly in her arms and then gently massaged
Shelly's reddened backside. Shelly loved Her attention. Shelly then kissed and
worshipped Goddess Demoness's gorgeous backside. Goddess Demoness then sat on
Shelly's face riding and smothering to her heart's content. Shelly came
several times from having this Goddess on her upturned face. They then went
into a sixty nine position and began lapping each other's pussies. Both have
Their pussies, They continued for what seemed like an eternity and both of
them came many times. With the display in front of me, I had a massive
erection, despite the intense pain in my genitals and backside. After a couple
of hours of lesbian love making, they ceased and I was escorted back to my
cell. I was fed my Sunday evening meal which consisted of nourishing but
tasteless gruel. I didn't look forward to the remainder of my time here.
For the next six days my daily routine of torture was virtually identical. On
each succeeding day the wounds of the previous days were opened up so I was in
a constant state of pain. Along with the renewed torment, was additional agony
by the repeated procedures.
On the following Sunday, I was told that I would be spared torture since this
was the day I was to be castrated. In the afternoon, Judy and Dianne came to
my cell and escorted me to a guest bedroom. There Shelly and Goddess Demoness
awaited me.
" I will permit you one last time as a man with your wife. Later, I will
neuter you and you'll no longer be a man, but an it. So enjoy your last sex as
a male. "
Goddess Demoness left the room and engaged in wild and abandoned lovemaking.
It was even more intense and special as it was my last and we both knew it.
For hours we continued our lovemaking until we both were exhausted.
Shelly and I fell asleep in each other's arms and slept soundly until about 8
P.M. We woke and Shelly kissed me and told me. " it's time. "
She escorted me to the dungeon. There, Goddess Demoness, Judy and Diane
awaited. There were also over fifty women there who had been invited to
observe and witness my castration.
Page Six
" Shelly, why do you bring your husband to me today? "
" Goddess Demoness, I have brought him to You to be neutered. I wish you to
remove his testicles and scrotal sac. He has had a castration fixation for
many years and we both believe castration for the best. "
" Do you want his balls and sac, Shelly? "
" No, Goddess, You may have them for Your collection. I'll always know where
they are. "
" Thank you, Shelly. I will add them to my collection and you may visit them
whenever you like. "
" You are prepared for the consequences, Shelly? "
" Yes, I am Goddess Demoness. "
" You realize that once neutered he will be a sexless being. He will lose
interest in anything sexual entirely, his penis will shrink and never again
become erect. His tiny dick will become forever limp and useless to pleasure a
Woman. "
" Yes, I understand, Goddess. "
" Shelly, you're a young Woman in her sexual prime. As it will no longer be
able to satisfy your sexual needs, where do you intend to get sexual
satisfaction? "
" Goddess, I have tried sex with Women and find it much more pleasurable than
sex with a man. I will have sex with Women exclusively from now on. "
"That's great, Shelly since all the Women in this room are lesbians and we
welcome you to Our sisterhood. "
" Thank you, Goddess. "
Goddess Demoness instructed Judy and Diane to prepare me.
They escorted me to the shower, where I showered using antiseptic soap. While
in the bathroom they shaved my genitals and surrounding area and applied a
liberal coating of Betadine antibacterial.
I was then taken back to the dungeon. We went to the Punishment Block. They
taped my erect penis to my abdomen. I was bent over the block face down. my
wrists and ankles were secured to the four legs. A large strap at the end of
the block fastened the back of my waist to the block. I was fully conscious of
my scrotal sac hanging down between my spread legs.
Page Seven
Dianne grabbed my scrotum while Judy applied three castration bands to the
neck of my scrotal sac as close to the body as possible, using a Band
Castrator. Judy then pushed two needles through the neck of my scrotum on the
ball side of the bands. This was to prevent slippage of the bands.
My genitals hung over the edge of the table. Judy place a tub beneath my
genitals and told Goddess Demoness that I was prepared.
Mistress Demon was holding a lopper and addressed the audience.
" What I have here is known as a lopper. It's is usually used to prune trees
and bushes, but it makes an excellent tool to cut off unwanted balls and sacs
from males.. The blades are replaceable and I use fresh blades for each
castration. The blades are also sterilized prior to their use. I'm now going
to castrate ian and I hope that each one of you enjoys herself. "
Judy looped a cord around the base of my scrotum and pulled my scrotal sac
away from my body. Goddess Demoness place the blades of the lopper on either
side of the neck of my scrotum. With a smile, she closed the handles and my
sac and balls fell into the tub with a thud. I felt a sharp pain in my genital
area. A lot of moaning could be heard in the room as the women orgasmed, many
violently.
I was now an it, no longer a male but an eunuch.
Goddess Demoness poured iodine over the wound creating a burning sensation.
Diane then wheeled up a pot of hot coals to the scene containing two branding
irons.
" I'm now going to brand this eunuch slave's hide. "
Goddess Demoness selected one of the branding irons. She touched the brand to
my right flank and pushed it deep into my flesh. The pain was unbelievable. I
screamed in agony and convulsed within my bonds. She repeated the procedure
with the other branding iron on my left flank, again to my screams. I was in
some unbelievably real pain.
Judy and Dianne released me and literally dragged me from the room and back to
my cell. I was placed on the cot and I was in unbelievable agony. I rested but
could not sleep because of the extreme pain.
On the next morning, Judy and Dianne took me from my cell to the dungeon.
I was fastened on my back spreadeagled between the four posts. The fifty women
invited to witness my castration were there, as was Judy, Dianne, Shelly and
Goddess Demoness.
Page Eight
Now we're all going to use you for sexual gratification. Each of the Women
here will sit on your eunuch face and if you don't bring each and every one to
orgasm, you will be bullwhipped daily for the next week. You no longer have
balls to torture, but we can still keep you in agony.
Each of the Women took Her turn on my upturned face. I lapped at each one to
the best of my ability. With many of them I knew they orgasmed while on my
face. Several of the Women were having their time of the month and orgasmed
more easily. When it was all over, Goddess Demoness enquired of the Ladies if
any had not orgasmed on my face. Two told Her that they had not orgasmed.
Judy and Dianne then attached a face dildo to my face. Each of the Women
pleasured Herself on the face dildo while I watched their butts bounce up and
down on my face. I got a bird's eye view of each pleasuring Herself on the
dildo.
" That's too bad for you, ian; but it's good for us. Your introduction to the
bullwhip on your hide will start tonight. All the ladies here will get to
watch me tear the hide off you with my bullwhip. And believe me, anyone who
has a taste of the bullwhip from me will remember is forever. And of course,
each of your remaining days here you will have another taste of the bullwhip.
"
Judy and Dianne took me to the barn. There was a ceiling hoist and they
attached my wrists to it. They attached 200 lbs of weights to my ankles. They
raised me by the hoist until the weights were off the ground. The pain was
unbelievable as my body was stretched almost to the point of breaking in two.
Goddess Demoness entered with the group of ladies. They all stood around
watching as she selected a bull whip from the wall The whip was six feet in
length and had a vicious snapper at the end. Mistress Demon advised the ladies
not to get too close of they may be hit with the whip.
" This whip is for ian and tonight I'm going to skin him alive from the waist
down. On other nights his chest will feel the whip."
She stood behind me. I heard the whistle of the whip as it cut through the air
and the viscous crack as it landed across the centre of my buttcheeks. It
opened me up like a knife, and I could feel the blood flowing toward my
ankles. The assault continued. Goddess Demoness is very accurate with the
bullwhip. A half hour later, she had applied a hundred strokes to my
hindquarters and I could feel my skinned hide and the blood flowing to the
ground. Every muscle and joint in my body hurt from the weights which
stretched my body to the limit. The lashes on my stretched body hurt even
more. I was screaming in agony The ladies assembled enjoyed the spectacle and
many of them orgasmed at the sight. From the waist down, I most closely
resembled a bloody side of beef.
They let me down and I crumpled into a ball on the floor. I couldn't move and
was screaming intensely. The pain was unbelievable. I wasn't aware that this
type of pain existed. Judy and Dianne dragged my body to my cell. I couldn't
sleep that night because of the intense pain.
Page Nine
The next day I was taken into the dungeon and fastened spreadeagled between
the four posts. Goddess Demoness, Judy, Dianne and Shelly. They each took
their turn on my face and later after the face dildo was attached, they each
rode my face wile I watched them pleasure themselves on my face.
Later, I was subjected to flames licking at my body and to cigarettes butted
out on the palms of my hands and soles of my feet. Goddess Demoness devised a
diabolical torture. She inserted a metal rod into my anus and place a metal
band around my penis. She fastened the alligator clips from the Ball Fryer to
the ends of the metal in my anus and on my penis. She pressed the momentary
button and I screamed in pain and agony
" Since you no longer have balls, we must find other areas to torment. The
current flowing from your penis to your anus will keep you awake. "
She turned on the on switch and I was left to suffer while the ladies went
upstairs for tea. About an hour later, They returned and I had screamed myself
horse and passed out from the pain. my body was still convulsing violently
from the current flowing.
I begged Goddess Demoness, " please no more, I can't stand it. "
" Oh, really do you think I care, little man. "
She laughed very loudly and soon the other woman joined in a round of laughter
at my expense.
" Then, please put me to death to end my suffering. I just can't bear anymore.
"
" you're here to suffer, ian and you're not going to get off that easily. I
intend to make you suffer as no man has ever suffered before.
Afterwards, I was treated to a display of lesbian love among the four Women. I
became erect but the intensity of my erections was quickly diminishing. I was
experiencing hot flashes in addition to the agony I was kept in.
That evening, my chest and back were the targets for the bullwhip My lower
body was still sore and skinned from the previous night's assault. Each
consecutive night my upper or lower body were whipped. The area being whipped
was only starting to heal from the whipping the night before when my wounds
were opened up again. Each day I was again subjected to the flames to
cauterize my wounds, cigarettes butted out on the palms of my hands and soles
of my feet, and of course a daily dose of the Ball Fryer.
On the following Sunday, I was bandaged up.
" Well, ian, what do you have to say before you leave? "
Page Ten
Thank you sincerely Goddess Demoness. You have made my fantasy and dream come
true. I will remember the time I've spent here and the pain for the remainder
of my life.
Goddess Demoness went with Shelly and me in a limousine to the airport. There
Shelly and I boarded Goddess Demoness' private jet for the ride home. When we
arrived, another limousine picked us up and drove us home.
Six months later, Goddess Demoness visited our home. By that time, sexuality
and erections was only a memory for me. My penis had atrophied and was
permanently flaccid. I was a totally sexless being and the only sex i was
allowed is oral satisfaction of Shelly and her Female friends. For the
slightest infraction or omission, I was severely whipped.
Goddess Demoness and Shelly engaged in a long session of Lesbian lovemaking
while I was permitted to watch. Shelly had several lesbian lovers since I was
no longer able to satisfy her needs. Goddess Demoness was our house guest for
three days. Although She had inflicted unbelievable pain on me and ended my
sexuality, I was very glad to see Her and have Her in our home.
Author's Note: If you are in need of castration, penectomy or total
nullification, and if you are prepared for life's most agonizing experience,
you should contact Goddess Demoness at .
Page Eleven
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Wife calms husband (translated in German) | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES | Translated Version of Wife calms husband by AnonymousEhefrau ist den kleinen unfruchtbaren Pimmel ihres Mannes leid. Sie läßt sich von anderen Männern vögeln, schneidet mit ihren Freundinnen seine Eier ab, und lässt den Schwanz für immer schlafen. Ihr Mann darf jetzt ihre vollgespritzte Pussy ausschlecken... | ` Frau beendet Sexualtrieb ihres Mannes `
Original Title: Wife calms Husband
Author: ANONYMOUS
Es hatte alles ganz harmlos angefangen. Meine Frau war vor unserer Heirat
sexuell sehr aktiv, während ich nur sehr wenig Erfahrung hatte. Ich fühlte
mich unheimlich glücklich, daß ich Jenny kennengelernt hatte. Als sie begann
über ein geregeltes Leben nachzudenken, und als die Frage der Heirat aufkam,
fühlte ich mich, als hätte ich in der Lotterie gewonnen. Sie hat einen
großartigen Körper mit riesigen festen Brüsten (38DDD), ein sehr hübsches
Gesicht, und Augen die verraten, daß sie immer bereit für Sex ist.
Ich fand es unheimlich erotisch, wenn sie mir von ihren früheren Liebschaften
und ihren diesbezüglichen Erfahrungen erzählte. Zuerst war sie mit ihren
Erzählungen nur sehr zurückhaltend, aber auf Grund meines Drängens (dauernde
Aufforderung) begann sie ihre Geschichten lebhaft und anschaulich zu erzählen.
Bekanntschaften für nur eine Nacht, heiße Affären, Gruppensex, ungeschützten
Verkehr mit einigen Abtreibungen, harten Gewaltsex also das ganze Alphabet auf
und ab, und das mit sehr großer Häufigkeit. Sie sagte, daß es mehr als einmal
beim Gruppensex passierte, daß sie mit Sperma vollgefüllt nach Hause gegangen
sei, was von Kerlen herrührte, an deren Gesicht sie sich nicht erinnern
konnte.
Wenn ich nach Hause kam, geschah es oft, daß sie von mir verlangte sofort ihre
saftige Muschi zu lecken. Jenny forderte mich auf, mir vorzustellen, ihre
Pussy sei voll von Sperma anderer Kerle, und ich müsse es schnell ganz tief
aus ihrer Lustgrotte herausschlürfen, damit sie nicht schwanger würde. Dies
war für mich so erregend, daß ich kam, wenn sie von meiner Zunge befriedigt
war, und von mir abließ. Sie fing damit an, mich immer mehr ihren Wünschen zu
unterwerfen und verhöhnte mich mit meinem „kleinen Schwänzchen“ wie sie es
verachtend nannte. Sie begann meinen Schwanz zu reiben, wenn sie von ihren
früheren Affären erzählte. Sie sagte ich sei viel kleiner gebaut, als die
meisten Kerle die sie hatte, und hätte den dünnsten Schwanz und die kleinsten
Eier die sie je gesehen hätte. „Deine Eier gleichen denen von kleinen
unterentwickelten Jungen, und das scheint mir auch der Grund für dein seltenes
Verlangen nach Sex im Vergleich zu anderen Männern zu sein.“ Sie sagte die
Tatsache, daß ich wenig Sex bräuchte sei eine gute Eigenschaft für einen
treuen Ehemann. „Dein kleiner Schwanz ist zu winzig, um mich zu befriedigen,
aber deine Zunge gleicht diesen Mangel wieder aus.“ Diese Kommentare
erniedrigten und stimulierten mich gleichzeitig.
Nachdem ich sechs Monate versucht hatte sie zu schwängern, war sie sehr
unzufrieden mit unserem Geschlechtsleben. Eines Tages als sie gerade meine
Eier in meinem Sack knetete sagte sie: „Vielleicht bist du gar nicht fähig
Kinder zu zeugen mit diesen unterentwickelten Eiern. Wenn deine Spermien in
der Anzahl so niedrig sind wie dein Testosteron Pegel, dann wird es nie
gelingen.“ Mit der Zeit geschah alles nur nach ihrem Kopf, und ich fickte sie
nicht für drei Monate lang. Ich bemerkte, daß ihre Muschi jedesmal gerötet,
weit offen und sehr saftig war, wenn ich sie abends nach meiner Rückkehr mit
der Zunge befriedigte. Sie beruhigte mich, und sagte mir, das sei von ihrem
riesigen Dildo mit welchem sie sich tagsüber befriedigte.
Nach weiteren zwei Monaten ohne Ficken, sagte sie mir ich solle mich gemütlich
hinsetzen und ihr zuhören. Sie eröffnete mir, daß sie ein paar frühere Freunde
wieder getroffen hätte. Die Saftigkeit ihrer Muschi sei das Sperma dieser
Freunde. „Es ist der einzige Weg, wie wir zu einem Kind kommen können,
Liebling, und ich fühle mich richtig scheußlich, mich als verheiratete Frau
von anderen Männern befruchten lassen zu müssen.“
Sie erklärte mir, daß ich mich bestimmt viel wohler fühlen würde, wenn mein
Sexualtrieb beseitigt würde, denn dann würde mir die Erniedrigung erspart,
meine Frau nach meinem Abspritzen frustriert ohne den erlösenden Orgasmus, der
Geschicklichkeit ihrer Finger zu überlassen. Ihre Freundin Mary hätte ein
ähnliches Problem gehabt, und dafür eine Lösung gefunden. Sie hatte seine Eier
durch einen Arzt in Mexiko entfernen lassen. Ich habe ihre Bemerkungen als
Verhöhnung gewertet, und sie nie ernst genommen.
Jenny hatte immer mehr Verabredungen, und manchmal blieb sie die ganze Nacht
hindurch weg. Es wurde für mich zur Routine ihre Muschi zu rasieren, kurz
bevor sie wieder zu einer Verabredung ging. Ich leckte auch öfters ihre Clit,
wenn sie zu mir sagte: „Es würde vieles anders sein, wenn ich nach Hause käme
und glücklich darüber sein könnte, du seist Vater.“ Manchmal ging sie an
unseren geliebten Platz, und ich konnte zusehen, wie sie ein anderer Kerl
fickte, während ich mich zu Hause mit dem Wichsen und Abspritzen in das Klo
zufrieden geben mußte. Es war sehr erregend für mich zuzusehen, wenn ein
anderer Mann in sie eindrang und sie wild fickte. Ich mußte immer abspritzen,
wenn der andere seine Ladung in sie hinein schoss und sie beide am Höhepunkt
vor Lust stöhnten. Obgleich ich sehr ängstlich war, er könnte sie befruchten
und schwängern.
Jenny verhöhnte mich weiter: „Vielleicht gehen wir nächsten Monat nach Mexiko,
das würde dich von einer großen Belastung erlösen.“ Sie hatte mir auch
Informationen aus dem Internet zukommen lassen, bezüglich anderer Paare in
ähnlichen Situationen wie der unsrigen, welche sich für die Beendigung des
Sexualtriebes ihrer Männer entschieden hatten. „Sie alle sagen, daß es für die
Männer sehr hart ist das zu akzeptieren, aber wenn ihre Männlichkeit
verschwindet, vermissen sie die fehlende Erektion und das erlösende Abspritzen
nicht mehr.“ Mary’s Mann mußte eine harte Phase der Depression nach der
Operation überstehen, da es gegen seinen Willen erfolgt war. Er hatte gedacht
er sei nur zur zeitlichen Sterilisation in der Klinik, und mußte während einer
örtlichen Betäubung zur Belustigung seiner Frau zusehen, wie man ihm die Eier
abschnitt. Er war sehr verbittert, und es bedurfte der großen Anstrengung
eines Psychologen, bis er sich mit der Tatsache abgefunden hatte. Mary sagt er
fühle sich mittlerweile viel glücklicher, und sei zufrieden damit seine Zeit
zu Hause mit den Kindern zu verbringen, während Mary und meine Frau sich auf
Partys amüsierten.
Nach Monaten ihrer Klagen und ihrer Frustration eröffnete mir Jenny an einem
Freitag, daß sie mich am Abend von einer großen Belastung befreien würde.
Jenny verabreichte mir ein tolles Abendessen, gekleidet in einem
durchsichtigen Gewand, welches den Anblick ihrer riesigen großen Brüste nicht
einschränkte.
Als Dessert gewährte sie mir erstmals seit Monaten die Erfüllung der oralen
Befriedigung durch ihren warmen Mund und ihrer zarten geschickten Zunge. Ich
war so erregt, es dauerte nur ca. dreißig Sekunden, bis ich abspritzte. Sie
versuchte meinen Schwanz wieder aufzurichten, aber es war zu spät, ich war
bedient und konnte nicht mehr. Sie war sichtlich enorm frustriert und sagte:
„wie immer, der alte schnelle Schuß. Ein kleines schnelles Abspritzen, und die
wöchentliche Pflicht ist erledigt.“ Sie stand auf, und rieb ihre nur spärlich
bedeckten Brüste in meinem Gesicht. Ich holte ihre rechte Titte heraus, und
begann an ihrer herrlich großen Knospe zu saugen. Jenny nahm meine freie Hand,
und legte sie auf ihre Muschi. Ich bearbeitete ihr Clit, und fuhr mit zwei
Fingern in ihre feuchte Spalte, als sie zu stöhnen begann. Ich hatte in den
ganzen Jahren nie bemerkt, daß sie das antörnte, aber sie schien sichtlich
erregt zu sein.
Jenny fuhr mit ihrer Hand nach unten, und rieb meinen schlaffen Schwanz.
„Vielleicht können wir ihm mit der gebotenen Sorgfalt einen letzten Schuß
entlocken.“ Mir war zu dieser Zeit nicht bewußt, wie der „letzte Schuß“
wirklich gemeint war. „Laß uns zusammen in das Schlafzimmer gehen, ich werde
dir ein paar höchst erregende Tricks zeigen.“
Wir zogen uns beide aus, und sie dirigierte mich so, daß ich mich auf den
Rücken in das Bett legte. Als sie ihre schweren Titten über mein Gesicht
gleiten ließ, bemerkte ich, daß sie mir Riemen um die Handgelenke legte. „Nur
eine kleine Vorbereitung für besonders geile Spiele,“ sagte sie zu mir, als
sie aus dem Bett glitt, und auch meine Fußgelenke mit weit gespreizten Füßen
an je einem Bettpfosten mit einem Riemen festband. Sie reichte zu ihrer
Ankleide hinüber, packte ein zusammen gerolltes Handtuch, und entnahm ihm
Rasierschaum und einen Rasierapparat. „Heute nacht werde ich dich rasieren,
bald wirst du genauso zart wie ich zwischen deinen Beinen sein,“ sprach sie zu
mir, als sie mit ihrer Hand zu ihrer Muschi fuhr, und ihre Schamlippen teilte.
Sie seifte dann meinen schlaffen Schwanz gründlich ein, und begann mich zu
rasieren. Jenny quetschte meine Eier nach unten zu dem Sackboden, und begann
vorsichtig die empfindliche Haut zu rasieren. „Ich werde dich dieses Mal sehr
gründlich rasieren,“ bemerkte sie mit merkwürdigem Unterton in der Stimme.
Auf Grund all dieser Zuwendungen wurde mein Schwanz wieder hart. Jenny
reinigte mich mit einem warmen feuchten Handtuch von den Resten des
Rasierschaumes, und saugte mir den Schwanz auf die volle Erektion, „zweimal in
einer Nacht, wow welch ein Zuchthengst.“
Sie erhob sich, und brachte ihre Muschi über meinen Schwanz. Ich konnte es
nicht glauben, aber sie schob meinen Schwanz in ihre Pussy, und sogar ohne
Kondom, das war etwas, was sie mir lange nicht zugestanden hatte. Sie führte
meinen Schwanz in ihr Loch ein, und glitt bis zum Anschlag herunter, so dass
unsere beiden Gabelungen direkt aufeinander trafen. Jenny bewegte sich heftig
wie besessen auf und nieder, so dass unser geiles Fleisch jedesmal aufeinander
klatschte. Sie lehnte sich dabei zurück, und traf vereinzelt hart meine Eier,
welche durch die Quetschung ähnlich weh taten, als wenn man unglücklich vom
Fahrradsattel rutschte. Sie aber lächelte nur, wenn sie sah wie ich
zusammenzuckte, und stieß noch härter zu, so dass ich noch mehr stöhnte. Ich
hatte etwas auszuhalten, bis ich zum Orgasmus kam, ja, ich kam diese Nacht
zweimal, und sie sah, daß meine Erektion jetzt nachließ. „Bleibe hart
Liebling, du mußt heute Nacht noch einmal in mir kommen.“ Sie neigte sich
vorwärts, und ließ ihre schweren Titten quer über mein Gesicht schleifen, dann
reichte sie nach hinten, und quetschte heftig meine Eier, um sie anschließend
sehr hart weit weg von meinem Körper zu ziehen. „Die meisten meiner Freunde
ficken mich, und füllen mich ab, drei bis viermal in einer Nacht. Manchmal
spritzen sie ab, und ficken mich weiter, bis sie eine zweite Ladung in mich
hinein schießen. Das ist so etwas berauschendes, den Schwanz eines Kerles in
der Muschi spritzen zu lassen, und nur durch die Ringmuskulatur der Muschi
langsam leer zu melken. Danach im Bett zu liegen, sein Sperma in meinem Schoß
schwimmend und aus der Muschi laufend, noch heißer wird mir, wenn ich daran
denke so nach Hause zu kommen und dich das Sperma aus meinem Schoß saugen zu
lassen. All dieses geile Gerede, gemischt mit der rauhen Behandlung meiner
Eier erregte mich derart, daß ich ohne weiters Zutun in meiner Frau
abspritzte, das erste Mal seit Gedenken.
Jenny kam hoch zu meinem Gesicht, brachte ihre nasse vollgespritzte Muschi
über meinen Mund und sagte: „Mach das, was du so gut kannst!“ Nachdem ich in
meiner Frau abgespritzt hatte, fühlte ich mich wie ein Zuchthengst, begann
ihre Muschi regelrecht aufzuessen, und lauschte den Erklärungen meiner Frau,
welche mir erläutern sollten, wozu sie das Ganze veranstaltete. „Der Grund,
warum du überhaupt ohne Schutz in mir abspritzen darfst liegt darin, daß es
für dich zur Zeit unmöglich ist mich schwanger zu machen.“ Da sie weiterhin
ihre Muschi an meiner Zunge und an meinem Mund rieb, hatte ich nicht die
Möglichkeit sie um eine genauere Erklärung zu bitten. Ich würde sagen, sie war
dem Orgasmus nahe, als sie fortfuhr: „Ich war beim Arzt und erfuhr ich bin
schwanger! Du wirst Vater, wenn auch nur ein Stiefvater!“ Sie lachte laut auf,
und ich hörte sofort geschockt auf sie zu lecken. Sie war aber schon so nahe,
und brauchte ihre Pussy nur noch ein bißchen an meinem Kinn zu reiben, als sie
einen gewaltigen Orgasmus bekam.
Sie ließ von mir, legte sich neben mich, und lächelte nur über meinen
geschockten Gesichtsausdruck. Sie sagte: „Wir wollten ein Baby, aber diese
beiden Dinger da,“ wobei sie verächtlich auf meine Hoden deutete, „waren
unfähig eins zu ermöglichen.“ Ich konnte nicht glauben, daß sie so verletzend
gegenüber meinen Gefühlen sein konnte, und sprach zu ihr: „Frauen sollten sich
nicht von ihren Kerlen schwängern lassen, und dann glauben ihr Ehemann würde
ihren Bastard akzeptieren.“ Jenny antwortete: „Ich weiß, das wird dir nicht
leicht fallen, aber du wirst es akzeptieren müssen. Du fühlst aber nur
männliche Eifersucht, und wir werden dir heute nacht helfen diese zu
überwinden.“ Sie blickte zur Türe und rief: „Hallo Mädels, seid ihr bereit?“
Herein kamen ihre Freundin Mary und eine Frau, welche sie ebenfalls als
Freundin mit Namen Carlin vorstellte, und die von Beruf Krankenschwester war.
Mary sagte: „Wir haben uns selbst geöffnet, und legte einen Schlüssel auf der
Umkleide ab, während Carlin einen Matchsack auf das Bett stellte. Ich fühlte
mich erniedrigt, da sie mich hier so nackt und gefesselt sehen konnten, und
auch unsere Unterhaltung mit angehört haben mußten. Ich verlangte von Jenny
daß sie mich befreien solle, aber sie widersprach, da sie noch nicht fertig
seien. Jenny sprach: „Das was wir jetzt vorhaben, wird ein großer Spaß für uns
Frauen sein, aber es ist kein Spaß für dich mein Liebling. Du wirst für eine
ganze Weile sehr erschüttert sein, aber mit der Zeit wirst du dich daran
gewöhnen, und es wird dir leichter fallen zu akzeptieren, dass das die einzig
richtige Entscheidung meinerseits war.“ Ich begriff, dass sie über meine
Kastration sprach, aber mein Gemüt konnte eine Entmannung nicht akzeptieren.
„Heute nacht werden wir deine Eier ernten, du wirst dann kein Mann mehr sein,
und dein Geschlechtsleben wird zu Ende sein. Das eben war möglicherweise deine
letzte Erektion, und dein letzter Orgasmus. Von jetzt an wird dein Schwanz
schlaff bleiben und mit der Zeit immer mehr schrumpfen,“ sprach Jenny. Mary
fügte hinzu: „ Kastration ist etwas, was Männer nur selten akzeptieren können,
aber es ist das beste was eine Frau für ihren Ehemann tun kann, besonders in
einer Ehe wie der eurigen.“
Carlin hatte ein Tablett mit chirurgischen Instrumenten zwischen meine Beine
gestellt, und begann meinen Sack abzutasten. „Ich muß noch einige kleine Dinge
lokalisieren, bevor wir schneiden,“ lächelte sie. „Ich habe das auch mit
meinem Mann gemacht, nachdem ich jahrelang mit ansehen mußte wie er anderen
Frauen nachlief. Er ist für mich jetzt ein besserer Mann, und muß jetzt
zusehen, wenn mich andere Männer ficken.“ Sie lachte über mich, und lächelte
Jenny ermunternd zu.
Mein anfänglicher Schock hatte sich gelegt, und ich versuchte Jenny zu bitten
mir das nicht anzutun. „Bitte kastriere mich nicht, ich werde mich nie mehr
beschweren, und ich werde auch das Baby anerkennen, ich könnte Medikamente
gegen meinen Sexualtrieb nehmen.“ Ich bat sie unter Tränen, welche mir die
Augen herunter liefen. Ich fühlte eine Nadel in meinem Oberschenkel, und
bemerkte, daß Carlin mir mit einer Spritze ein Medikament verabreichte. “Das
wird ihn beruhigen, und macht ihn gefügiger.“ Ich fühlte wie sich ein warmes
und entspannendes Gefühl in meinem Körper ausbreitete. Carlin fügte hinzu: „In
dieser Situation würden sie alles versprechen und unterschreiben, nur um ihre
kostbaren Eier zu retten.“ Jenny sprach: „Liebling, als Mann erscheint dir die
Kastration als Schicksal schlimmer als der Tod, aber glaube mir, nachdem dir
deine Eier abgeschnitten wurden und du ein Eunuch bist, wird es dir nichts
mehr bedeuten. Nach dieser Nacht beginnst du ein völlig neues Leben.“
Carlin füllte eine andere Spritze, und nachdem sie meine Eier in den Sackboden
gequetscht hatte, stach sie in die Mitte jedes Eies, und injizierte in jedes
eine Menge der Flüssigkeit. Zuerst brannte es schrecklich, aber dann wurden
sie taub. „Fühlt sich an, als seien deine Eier dem Feuer ausgeliefert, nicht
wahr? Aber bald werden Eierschmerzen für dich für immer vorüber sein.“ Sie
lächelte verhöhnend, und die anderen Frauen kicherten.
Mir blieb nichts anderes übrig, als zuzuschauen, wie sie rund um mein Sackende
mit dem Skalpell einschnitt. Sie hatte meine Frau aufgefordert den Sack
anzuheben, als sie den Schnitt auf der Unterseite fortführte, und den Schwanz
wegzuhalten, als sie jetzt den Schnitt entlang der Vorderseite weiter
vertiefte. Vorsichtig entfernte sie den dicht am Körper abgetrennten Sack,
indem sie ihn langsam nach unten über die Eier zog. Sie schnitt noch hier und
da nach, um überstehendes Bindegewebe zu entfernen. Meine Frau setzte sich
hinter meinem Kopf, und hob ihn an, damit ich meine Kastration besser
verfolgen könne, wie sie sagte. „Es wird für dich leichter sein es zu
akzeptieren, wenn du die Handlung bewußt verfolgst,“ meinte sie. Es sah so
unwirklich aus, zu sehen, wie mein Sack von der Hand Carlins ganz einfach nach
unten weggezogen wurde, und meine purpurfarbenen Eier einfach so an ihren
Versorgungs-strängen in der Luft hingen. Sie werden mich also wirklich
kastrieren. In einer kurzen Zeit würde ich ein dreiunddreißig Jahre alter
kastrierter Mann sein.
„Bitte tue es nicht, bedenke doch was du mir da antust,“ bettelte ich bei ihr.
Carlin hob meine rechtes Ei an, und zog die Versorgungsstränge stramm. „Du
kannst sehen, wie dein Blut durch den Strang in deine Eier gepumpt wird. Noch
funktionieren sie, aber das würden sie nicht mehr lange tun in dieser
ungeschützten entblößten Art frei in der Luft. Nein, sie müssen jetzt ab!“ Sie
zog an den Strängen, und zog sie so weit als möglich aus meinem Unterleib, und
hatte Mary aufgefordert sie festzuhalten. Mary sprach: „Das wird mich immer
wieder aufgeilen, obwohl ich schon vor meinem Ehemann bei drei anderen Männern
geholfen habe sie zu kastrieren. Es ist immer wieder ein unglaublicher Kick,
und eine innere Befriedigung, wenn man so der Zerstörung ihrer Sexualität
zusieht, und man selbst sich noch von Tausenden von anderen Kerlen ficken
lassen kann. Sein Schwanz aber wird ihm nie mehr das befriedigende Gefühl des
Abspritzens gewähren, sondern nur noch zum Pissen zu gebrauchen sein. Er wird
das schlaffe Ding noch nicht einmal mehr durch die Schamlippen einer Frau
stoßen können. Nein, wie das in meinem Unterleib vor erregender Geilheit
brodelt.“ Carlin band die Versorgungsstränge beider Eier mit einem speziellen
medizinischen Garn so weit oben als möglich, nahe des klaffenden Loches wo
mein Sack angewachsen war, ab. Sie gab meiner Frau ein paar Scheren in die
Hand, und sagte zu mir gewandt: „Du kannst gerne die Ehre haben das
Sexualleben deines Mannes zu zerstören, und seinen kleinen Schwanz für den
Rest seines Lebens schlafen zu legen. Genieße es, und laß dem Freudensaft
deiner Muschi freien Lauf. Jenny packte noch einmal meinen Schwanz, und fuhr
mit der Hand auf und ab, als wollte sie mir noch einmal einen wichsen. Dieser
begann wunderbarer Weise anzuschwellen, und sie küßte mich noch einmal auf die
entblößte Eichel. Sie sprach: „Das Leben wie du es kanntest wird gleich zu
Ende sein, aber du wirst lernen dies zu akzeptieren, und den neuen Platz in
unserer Ehe einnehmen. Sag deiner Geilheit lebe wohl, und verabschiede dich
von deinen kostbaren Eiern. Sie führte die Schere zu den Versorgungs-strängen
meines rechten Eies, und schnipp, war es abgeschnitten. Sie führte die Schere
zu den Strängen des linken Eies, und beendete genüßlich mit einem Schnipp
meine Männlichkeit. Die abgeschnittenen Enden der Stränge schnappten zurück in
den Unterleib, und Mary hielt meine abgetrennten Eier in ihrer Hand. Sie
quetschte sie mit Daumen und Zeigefinger, und ein paar Tropfen von Samen
fielen auf meinen harten Schwanz, „schau, das ist dein letzter eigener Samen,
den du je sehen wirst. Aus deinem noch harten Schwanz wirst du keinen Samen
mehr abspritzen können.“
Ich schaute zu, als Carlin die Wunde wo mein Sack für dreiunddreißig Jahre
gehangen hatte, vernähte und versorgte. „Schau nicht so verdrießlich drein,“
sagte sie, „in einigen Monaten wirst du zuschauen, wie deine Frau von anderen
Kerlen gevögelt wird, und wirst dich wundern zu was alle dieses Theater
überhaupt gut war. In der Zwischenzeit, wichse und spritz ab, so oft du nur
kannst. Natürlich wird kein Samen mehr heraus kommen, aber ein paar Tropfen
Flüssigkeit sollten schon zu sehen sein. Nach einer Woche oder so, wird es
immer schwieriger werden ihn zum anschwellen zu bringen, und er wird auch
nicht mehr so hart werden. Eines Tages wirst du dich an dein vergangenes Leben
zurück erinnern und ein letztes Mal gegen dein Schicksal ankämpfen wollen,
aber du wirst feststellen es rührt sich nichts mehr.“
„Es war ein betrüblicher Tag, als der Schwanz meines Ehemannes letztlich
aufgab,“ erzählte sie weiter. „Er hatte gerade zugeschaut wie ein anderer Mann
mich fickte, und wollte wirklich seinen schlaffen Schwanz bezwingen, indem er
ihn hart und unnachgiebig wichste, aber er konnte ihn nicht mehr zum Spritzen
bringen. Seine Hand beendete langsam das grausame Spiel, und er schrie vor
Frust. Aber nach weiteren drei Wochen fühlte er sich besser und zufriedener.
Er begann den Sex tagelang vollständig zu vergessen, und er konnte mir beim
Ficken zusehen, und mich oral befriedigen ohne jede erkennbare Gemütsregung,
und ohne in irgendeiner Art und Weise bedrückt zu sein.“
Diese Nacht besuchten Jenny und die Mädels diverse Partys. Ich war völlig
erschöpft, und schlief bald ein, nachdem mir Carlin alle Wunden gut versorgt
und verbunden hatte. Ich wurde von meiner Frau bei ihrer Rückkehr am nächsten
Morgen geweckt, und war bereit ihre volle Muschi auszuessen. Niemals habe ich
ihre Pussy mehr benutzt gesehen, als in dieser Nacht. Ihre Schamlippen standen
weit auseinander, und sahen sehr wund aus. Samen floß aus ihrem Fickloch, und
hatte bereits ihre Oberschenkel verschmiert. Ich durfte ihre Klitoris nur ganz
leicht lecken, und vorsichtig saugen, um sie zu einem Orgasmus zu bringen. Den
aber bekam sie augenscheinlich nur, weil sie sich an dem Anblick weidete, wie
ich all den Samen der vielen Männer die sie gefickt hatten, aus ihrem Fickloch
herausschlürfte, und ihr wunschgemäß auch die verschmierten Oberschenkel mit
meiner Zunge säuberte.
Charlin kontrollierte um die Mittagszeit meine Wunden und meinen
Allgemeinzustand. Sie sagte Jenny hätte die letzte Nacht wirklich von ihrer
Vergangenheit los gelassen, indem sie ihre Befreiung auf ihre Art und Weise
gefeiert hätte. Das alles gipfelte in einer großen Party, wo sie der Ehrengast
war und vereinbarungsgemäß uneingeschränkt von dem Anteil der anwesenden
Männern benutzt werden konnte, was zu mehr als zwei Dutzend Ficks führte.
Die Wochen vergingen, und mein Sexualtrieb verschwand allmählich. Eine Nacht,
als ich gerade die Lustgrotte meiner Frau von dem Sperma ihrer Liebhaber
sauber geleckt hatte, lag sie neben mir, streichelte mich dort wo mein Sack
gehangen hatte, und forderte mich auf zu wichsen und abzuspritzen. „Besser du
machst es noch solange du das überhaupt kannst, denn es könnte für dich jedes
Mal das letzte Mal sein.“ Sie grabschte nach meinem schlaffen geschrumpften
Penis, umschlang ihn mit Daumen und Zeigefinger und sagte: „Los, beweise dir,
du schaffst es noch ein letztes Mal. Gib nicht auf!“ Sie rieb ihre
gigantischen Brüste in meinem Gesicht, und gab mir ihren Brustnippel zum
saugen in den Mund. Sie redete weiter in geiler Art und Weise auf mich ein,
und ermunterte mich aber ohne Erfolg, mein Schwanz war endgültig tot!
Letztlich beendete sie das grausame Spiel, und ließ meinen schlaffen Schwanz
auf meine Oberschenkel fallen. „Gott sei Dank, Clarin hatte recht. Dein
Sexleben ist vorbei, dein unfruchtbarer Schwanz ist tot. Er war es jedoch im
Prinzip schon immer, denn er hat nur eine unbrauchbare Brühe verspritzt. Und
das ist jetzt das einzige, was er auch heute noch tut, nämlich pissen. Aber es
gibt ja Tausende von anderen potenten geilen Männern mit harten dicken langen
Schwänzen...“ Sie hopste aus dem Bett, und ging unter die Dusche. Alles was
ich tun konnte, war still in mein Kissen zu weinen.
* * * |
Hilltp Academy - Part One | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES, MINOR | Story of a coed academy for dominant girls and submissive boys. Before graduation, boys are used for hands-on experience for the girls, and are tortured and castrated in class | Hilltop Academy
Part One
Derek sat alone in the boy’s locker room, nervously awaiting the
summons he knew would eventually come. He, and approximately
twenty other boys made up the male half of the student body of
Hilltop Academy, a small ultra-exclusive facility for raising and
training boys and girls in the FemDom lifestyle. Hilltop was owned
and operated by a group of dominant women who long ago saw the need
for a formally structured training and educational facility. This
would be a place where dominant women could bring their sons,
daughters, nephews, and nieces to be formally and professionally
educated in the many aspects of absolute female superiority and
male submission.
Boys were housed, trained, and educated in a separate, locked
section of the academy, but when not actually attending classes or
training sessions, were used as general laborers around the
campus. Boys were generally admitted at age 12, and graduated at
age 16. Girls were admitted at age 10, and graduated at age 14.
While at the academy, boys were thoroughly indoctrinated in the
concepts of natural female superiority, the logical and moral
arguments and proofs of male inferiority, and in the inherent
correctness of obedience to females in all things. Classroom
education was supplemented by training in household and domestic
skills, and in their last year at the academy, training in personal
slave services.
Boys knew that at age 15, they would be summoned to the girl’s side
of the academy, and would never again return to the boy’s side
before they left the facility at age 16. It had been briefly
explained that during a boy’s last year he would be introduced to,
and then thoroughly trained in the more personal and intimate
aspects of serving a female. Up until that time, their training
consisted of housekeeping skills - cleaning, cooking, laundry,
sewing, and other areas of like nature. There were also half-hints
and rumors of some deep, dark secret that would transpire at the
time a boy was summoned, but no boy really knew what would happen
when he finally did receive that call.
Derek had come back to his dorm cell yesterday to find a note on
his cot. It instructed him to be in the boy’s locker room at 9:00
AM the following day. He was to leave all of his normal clothing
behind, and wait in the nude for the escort who would take him to
the girl’s side of the academy. His mouth was dry from nervous
fear as he obediently sat naked on a locker bench. Then, he heard
the doors at the far end of the gym open, and heard footsteps as
they drew nearer and nearer to the locker room. The locker room
door swung open, and Derek recognized Ms. Stafford, an instructor
for both boy’s and girl’s classes.
“Well Derek, are you ready?” she asked.
“Yes Ma’am” replied Derek.
She ordered him to stand, and slowly walked around him.
“Hmmmm”, she mused. “I believe you’ll do nicely for my girl’s
class this afternoon.”
Half of Derek’s mind was trying to figure out what she meant by
“her girl’s class” and half was on the embarrassment caused by his
nudity. It was not often that boys had to appear nude in front of
staff, and Derek found himself blushing furiously as he was
examined by Ms. Stafford.
Like all boys at the academy, he was uncircumcised and had been
infibulated with a ring through his foreskin on the day of his
arrival at the facility. It allowed for normal urination, but
caused considerable pain if he tried to erect or to masturbate.
Both were expressly forbidden to Hilltop boys. Derek was quite
surprised when Ms. Stafford took a cutting tool from her gym bag,
snipped his penis ring in two places, and removed it.
He was further surprised, but even more dismayed when she removed
an enema kit and hose from the bag and filled it from a sink
faucet. She ordered him to bend over the bench as she applied
Vaseline to the nozzle tip. Derek groaned in embarrassment as she
inserted the nozzle up between his buttocks into his rectum, and
then released the flow control. Soon, he was groaning in
discomfort as the water gushing into his bowels began to cause
aches and cramps. She made him hold it for five minutes, and then
directed him to a toilet stall to get rid of it. When he had done
so, she directed him into the showers to wash himself thoroughly
and to make sure he was clean shaven all over. This was not
unusual as all Hilltop boys were required to keep their bodies hair-
free.
“Oh, and one thing more”, she continued. “Make sure you pull back
your foreskin and clean thoroughly under it.”
As Derek showered, it was with a sense of nervous apprehension that
he pulled back his long, loose foreskin as it had been over three
years since his ring was installed. While doing so, Derek was
unused to the sensations this caused and he began to erect. Just
then, Ms. Stafford came around the end of the shower stall to tell
him to hurry, and saw his penis pointing straight up. Derek
panicked and tried to explain what had happened.
Ms. Stafford said, “Never mind; this happens just about all the
time when boys first have their rings removed.”
“Just hurry it up, dry off, and get out here.”
Derek rushed to comply, and was shortly back out in the locker
room. Ms. Stafford again looked him over again, made him spread
his legs, and bend over. Then she had him stand straight, took
hold of his penis, and pushed back the foreskin. He gasped at the
sudden sensations this caused, and prayed he wouldn’t get another
erection.
“Looks clean enough”, said Ms. Stafford as she pulled the foreskin
back down over his glans and released his penis.
“Now, turn around and place your hands behind your back.”
Derek obeyed and felt a pair of leather wrist cuffs being applied.
A moment later, leather ankle cuffs were also fastened on him, and
then a leather collar around his neck. Then, Ms. Stafford used a
double-ended snap to fasten his wrist cuffs together, and attached
a chain leash to his neck collar. That done, she started out of
the locker room with Derek in tow behind her. With rising panic,
Derek realized they were heading out of the building with him being
totally naked except for his cuffs and collar.
To his immense relief, they crossed the courtyard without running
in to anyone, and entered a side door in the girl’s side of the
academy. Ms. Stafford led him down a corridor and turned a
corner. Suddenly, Derek was in the middle of a crush of female
staff and students. He closed his eyes and let Ms. Stafford lead
him on, and they finally stopped before a door. Derek opened his
eyes and saw that the door was lettered “Male Anatomy &
Physiological Responses.” Ms. Stafford opened the door, and they
went in.
At Hilltop, girls went through an education program designed to
instill and reinforce the knowledge of their inherent female
superiority, and of their natural right to have authority over all
males. When they reached 13 years of age, they began their last
phases of training in which they learned how to discipline males
and inflict strict punishment. As a preliminary, Ms. Stafford
taught a course in male anatomy and responses to various
“stimuli.” The first half of the course had already been completed
using books, diagrams, charts, and other teaching aids, but Ms.
Stafford knew that there was no substitute for actual “hands-on”
experience. Derek was to be the hands-on training aid for this
particular class.
As they entered the room, Derek was stunned to see six young girls
sitting in a semi-circle at the front of the room. He had not
known what to expect upon being moved, but it certainly wasn’t
this. With another shock, he recognized his own younger sister Amy
in the center of the row of girls. His mother and his Aunt Mary
had enrolled both himself and Amy at the academy three years
before, but he had seen her only twice in all that time. From
early childhood, he had grown up having to obey her under the
supervision of his mother and Aunt, but he was still extremely
uncomfortable with her presence in the room.
As Ms. Stafford led him up to the front of the room, Derek could
see on the walls all the charts, posters, and diagrams of males and
their various internal and external anatomy in full color. He was
again blushing beet red as Ms. Stafford had him stand before the
now giggling girls and introduced him.
“Now girls, let’s be a bit more mature in our behavior, shall we?”
“Derek here is going to be our live training aid for this portion
of your class, and I don’t expect to hear any more giggling out of
you.”
Derek’s mouth and throat were now parched from nervous fear as he
stood facing the semi-circle of eager young feminine faces. Ms.
Stafford turned to the class and said, “It’s time we began.”
“As you know, we have studied the major parts of the male anatomy,
the mechanics of the male erection, and the multi-step process of
ejaculation.”
“Today, we are going to have the opportunity to actually watch
those processes in action, as well as some rather specialized
physiological responses later on.”
Ms. Stafford went to the side of the room and began to operate a
hand-cranked winch that was mounted on a bracket. Derek looked up
and saw a horizontal metal bar descending that was attached to the
winch cable. The bar was about three feet long and had snap clips
fastened to both ends. When it had been lowered to a point just
over Derek’s head, Ms. Stafford came over behind him and unclipped
his wrist cuffs. She told him to raise his hands, and re-clipped
the cuffs to the snaps on the bar. She went to her desk and
returned with two eyebolts. She knelt down and screwed them into
threaded sockets in the floor, that Derek had not noticed before.
She pulled each of his legs out to the eyebolts and clipped his
ankle cuffs to them, and then returned to the winch and began to
crank it up. Derek’s arms were slowly pulled up over his head, and
Ms. Stafford continued cranking until he was slightly stretched up
and out into an “X” pattern. His ankles were apart approximately
three feet, the same as his wrists. He found he could scarcely
move, and suddenly realized that he was utterly helpless to prevent
or avoid anything that might be done to him. Apprehension settled
on him like a cold fog, and he steadily grew much more afraid than
he was ashamed of his situation.
Ms. Stafford returned to the front of the class and continued her
lecture.
“Since you have all studied the male anatomy, you theoretically
know all the parts and how they work; it’s time to put actual
experience with that knowledge.”
“If you will all come up here, we will start first on the structure
of the testicles.”
“I want each of you to thoroughly examine Derek’s testicles. Cup
them in your hands and heft them, take your time and get to know
the size, shape, and weight by feel. Move them around so you can
get a sense of the inner structures, the main body of the testicle,
the epididymis on the backside, the attaching spermatic cord which
contains the vas deferens, the main nerve, and the blood vessels.”
One by one, the girls stepped forward and grasped Derek’s scrotum
and testicles. They were not exactly experienced at this and Derek
was soon gasping and groaning as the young girls squeezed too
tightly and pulled too hard as they felt and rolled his testicles
in their strong young fingers. By the time the last girl had
completed her examination, he was in considerable pain; the
erection that had begun with the first girl’s manipulations had now
withered completely.
Ms. Stafford now grasped the limp organ and said, “Okay girls,
you’ve seen the pictures and so forth showing how the head or glans
of a boy’s penis is covered by this long, wrinkled tube of skin.”
She pushed the foreskin back and continued, “When the foreskin is
retracted, you can see the actual glans or head of the penis with
its urethral opening slit.”
“You will note that it is rather dark in color and shiny in
appearance. Being covered constantly by the foreskin, it is also
exquisitely sensitive to stimulation.”
She began to gently massage the purplish-pink knob and in spite of
the ache in his balls, Derek felt his penis swiftly rising. The
girls gave a few gasps and “oohs” and “aahs” as his penis exploded
upwards to its full length.
“One thing you all should remember”, said Ms. Stafford, “is that an
erect penis has no conscience; all any boy wants to do is stick
that thing up between your legs and ejaculate.”
The girl’s faces showed their disgust at this news and at the
thought of some inferior boy even daring to think about such a
thing.
“You have all also studied the mechanics of erection, and know that
a boy’s penis has two bodies of erectile tissue inside. In
response to stimulus, either mental, visual, or physical - the
blood outlets for these erectile bodies close off. The male’s
normal blood pressure fills the erectile bodies, but the blood is
trapped and can’t get out; thus, the penis erects.”
“Each of you come up and take hold and feel just how stiff and hard
a boy’s penis can get.”
As before, one by one the girls came up and examined Derek’s
erection with their hands. They pulled on it, twisted it, squeezed
it, and pushed it down to see it bob up again when released.
“Now”, said Ms. Stafford, “we will examine his responses to other
stimuli.” From her desk, she took a large cardboard box filled
with various implements.
“First of all, lets examine the response when I apply a thong whip
to his backside.”
She began to gently use the whip across Derek’s backside and
occasionally up between his legs and buttocks to lightly flick
against his scrotum and penis.
“You can see, there is virtually no lessening of his erection. In
fact, it usually works to make males even harder than before.”
“But watch now as I increase the stimulation.”
She began to forcefully whip Derek and he flinched and twisted
under the stinging blows. His erection began to slowly go down,
but he did not go completely limp. Now she began to whip him very
forcefully and he started to cry out in pain. In only a few
moments, the erection was completely gone and his penis hung limply
down over his testicles. Ms. Stafford now moved around in front of
him, and began once again to lightly flick his penis and
testicles. Derek groaned as he felt his penis betray him, and once
again begin to erect.
“So you see girls, there is a fine line between pleasure and pain;
between what causes a boy to erect, and what causes him to go
flaccid. It all depends on the circumstances, the boy himself, and
on the stimulus being applied.”
“Now we will observe the process of the male ejaculation.” Ms.
Stafford took from her box a large, bulbous headed dildo that was
attached to a battery power supply by a cord. She lubricated the
dildo with Vaseline and went around behind Derek. |
THE TIES THEAT BIND XVII~Sampling The Wares | GAY, PENECTOMY, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION, CONSENSUAL SLAVERY | PART XVII~Beau gives Button and gift. Visitations start. Beau reveals more of future to Yoshie. Yoshie has surprise for Beau.Relaxed weekend with Sam & Yoshie and Master. Next weekend at Beryl\'s & Blaine\'s. Whole Family shows up. Carnival, campout, partyatmosphere! Great fun! Beryl takes Beau to the deserted barn again.This times it ain\'t so deserted! Grainger & Bull make an appearance.Master Zack proves to be a Whip Master! | ` **THE TIES THAT BIND
By Waddie Greywolf **`
PART XVII~SAMPLING THE WARES
Part I~The Wizard’s Gift
what if a much of a which of a wind
gives the truth to summer's lie,
bloodies with dizzying leaves the sun
and yanks immortal stars awry?
Blow king to beggar and queen to seem
(blow friend to fiend: blow space to time)
when skies are hanged and oceans drowned,
the single secret will still be man.
e e cummings
That evening I retired early to the Dungeon to my salve Journal. I wanted to
record my feeling and memories of the Ceremony which seemed to me simple yet
elegantly symbolic of giving up one life for another. I had said good bye to
almost everyone but I asked Master Zack if he would be so kind to bring Button
down to the Dungeon to say good bye when they were ready to leave. I had
something for him. There seemed to be a steady stream of well wishers and
those wishing to say goodbye one more time. Dirk and Allen came down with
Oscar, his new Master, Master Bert, and Billy . They all had tears of joy and
I joined them. Master Bert told me he couldn’t wait for me to visit them and
they would surely kill the fatted calf. I told him hamburgers would be fine.
He laughed.
Finally Master Zack came down the stairs with Button. Master Zack hadn’t told
Button that I had something for him. I got up from my desk and knelt in front
of Master Zack and kissed both his boots and licked them a few times as well.
I found his hand waiting and I gently kissed the back of it, then placed it to
my forehead. “Rise good slave and show this grateful Master love!” I arose and
threw my arms around his neck and gave him a good kiss.
“Thank you Master Zack, that was _nice_!! I’m really looking forward to my
visit with you and Button.” With that I hugged and kissed Button who told me
he loved me again. I asked them to sit down for a minute. Button sat as close
to Master Zack as he could.
“Master Zack would you mind......?” I held my arms out to Button. “Of course
not slave...!” Button was already in my arms and sitting in my lap. I leaned
over and kissed his little bare spot and then each of his little balls.
“Master Zack ! You don’t know how good it is too hear you call me slave! Now I
know, when a Master calls me a slave, that it’s the truth. I would be honored
to be your slave and help my Little Brother serve you for a weekend. I have
something for you Button.” I reached into the desk drawer and pulled out a
small gift wrapped package with a card attached. Read the card first
sweetheart!” I instructed him.
I had made the card and it said on the front: Not every day is going to be a
great one!
You open it and inside it said:...“.but this will get you through the bad ones
by just rubbing it between your fingers. It is blessed with a powerful Magic!
It has been blessed by your Big Brother who, in a former life, was a Wizard!
All my love to you Button and Master Zack! On the occasion of Beau becoming a
slave!”
He read the card to Master Zack who was almost in tears.
“Now you may open it Button!” He opened it and it was a gold chain with a
small St. Christopher statue embossed into a small round Medallion.
“Read the back to Master Zack,”
“It says: I belong to Master Zack. My Master loves me and my Big Brother Beau
loves me. Nothing can hurt me! I love you Little Brother, Beau 6/30/72
Button was in tears and so was Master Zack. “Oh thank you Beau! Thank you!
It’s the most wonderful gift! I love you so much!”
“He’s not alone Son!” Said Master Zack choking back the tears.
“May I put it on Master?”
“Of Course you can, will you help him Beau?”
“Sure! Let’s let Master Zack take a look, what say Darlin’”
“I’m sorry Master I didn’t mean to forget you.”
“He knows that sweetheart, he knows your excited!”I tried to calm Button.
“Beau, this has to be one of the nicest things that anyone has ever done for
us. It will not soon be forgotten Son!”
“Well, I wanted to do something special for my becoming a slave and this was
the thing I most wanted to do. Now when I can’t remember the date I became a
slave I can call you and Button and say, ‘Please see what the date on Button’s
Medallion is for me,’ and then I’ll know!” We all laughed.
I had put the Medallion around Button’s neck and he was admiring it in the
mirror. It looked handsome against his dark skin. Master Zack motioned for me
to stand and he put his arms around me and embraced me.
“Thank’s once again my Friend, you have my heart as well! We’re so looking
forward to your visit. It’s all he can talk about. We’ll have fun. We have a
place in Joshua Tree not too far from Beryl and Blaine’s so you can expect the
Family.” He laughed. “It will be a relaxed weekend of rest for you and a
special guest from Silverlake! It’s our way of saying ‘Thank you!’”
“Come.” I said, “With your permission Master Zack, I’ll walk you out and see
you off. I’m through with my writing for tonight anyway.”
“You have my permission slave!”
“Master Zack I have come to really admire and respect you. I cried under that
leather skin listening to your words last night. I can’t tell you how much I
appreciated the kind things you said.”
“I’ll be honest slave! I’m scared to death of public speaking but I thought it
was only going to be just the immediate family! We walked in there and , My
God, hundreds of people. I told Button I didn’t know if I could do it. He told
me I had to! That I must be brave for him and do it. It was very important to
him! He has never been that insistent on anything since I bought him. He gave
me the courage and strength. I knew I had to do it!”
“Then I thank you to Button for backing up your Old Man like that. We slaves
sometime have to tell our Master’s we believe in them! Right?!” **“Your right
Beau! See I did remember what you told me!”** The cute little imp winked at me
and smiled sweetly.
We came upstairs and Oscar, Billy and Master Bert were still leaving. Button
turned to his Master. “Please Master Zack! May I show everyone what Beau gave
me?”
“Of course Son, go!”Button ran to Billy and Oscar to show them. He showed them
my card and exclaimed, “Look Beau made this card just for me and gave me this!
Isn’t it wonderful? And he told me the Medallion has Magic properties!”
They read the card then the medallion. They were oooing and aaaing over it.
“Button this is 18 caret gold. This is a treasure! Don’t lose it!” Said Master
Jeb.
“Button it looks like it was made for you. It’s so handsome on you.”Oscar told
him.
“It is indeed a treasure and if Beau told you it has Magic properties you can
take that to the bank, little one! You’re one lucky little slave to be loved
that much by two wonderful Men!” Said Billy Billy came to me and hugged me,
kissed me , and groped me again. “That’s the present I want some night!” “You
may have it however my wonderful Mr. McGee would like it. It would be the
fulfillment of a dream! Of course you have to promise to use a very large
rubber husband on me after that!” I thought Billy was going to bust a gut
laughing and Master Zack was too.
“You’re a piece of work Beau!” He patted me on the back. Button was in Big
Beryl’s arms and showing him , Blaine, Big Jim, Chief, Master Sam and Yoshie
his treasure. He read it to them and said ,“And Beau told me it has Magical
Powers. That all I have to do is rub it between my fingers!”
“Let me tell you Kiddo!” Big Beryl looked at him in all seriousness “If Beau
told you it has Magical Powers it does and they be strong Magic too! Don’t use
it unless you absolutely have too. It is some powerful Magic!” Big Jim the
Dungeon Master told him, “I’ve seen the Magic Beau can do Button and Beryl is
right. It’s powerful shit, Son. Just be careful with it and how you use it!
Don’t use it to harm anyone because all of Beau’s Magic is for good and it
will backfire on you!” Boy I couldn’t believe the shit these guys were heaping
on Button but I thought about it and it was a very loving thing to do. Magic
is what we think we believe. If we can believe it hard enough it will be!
Remember Dumbo? He could only fly if he had that Magic Feather in his snoot!
It wasn’t Magic at all but he believed! O.K., so it was Disney! Sue me! If
these big Men reenforced that belief in Button, that it truly was a source of
strong Magic, then he would believe. It could do wonderful things for him.
I leaned close to Master Zack and whispered, “Can..you. **believe**..this
Master Zack?” He just chuckled and whispered back, “He needs this love from
them! Look what you’ve done slave! He hasn’t been this open with people since
I bought him two years ago!” I grabbed him, hugged him and kissed him good.
Master Zack! Could I ask a favor?”
“Anything Beau! You know it!”
“Will you began calling me slave more often than Beau! I don’t know why but
when I hear it from you it makes my dick hard! Just look!” He looked and
started laughing. I didn’t think I was going to get him to stop. He had to
grab my arm he was so doubled up.
“What the Hell has that slave said to you Master Zack to get you going like
that! I’ve haven’t seen you laugh like that in a long time! It’s good to see
Son!” Bellowed Master Beryl.“I’d pay a handsome penny to know what that was
about too!” Roared the Dungeon Master. Master Zack just shook his head and
waved his hand over his head as he was still laughing.
“I’m... not.. though... Master Zack!” I tried to sound frustrated and hurt. He
got himself together and said,
“I would be proud to grant the first part of your request slave and ....?” “I
just wanted to add that you make me feel like a real slave when you call me
that and it makes me feel good all over Sir! That’s all!” He got serious and
said,
“I had no idea! Of course I will grant your request slave. You’ve become a
good slave to me of your own will and I’ll always love and think of you that
way! You’ve become a Big Brother to Button and , to be completely honest,
thinking of you that way isn’t bad for my old dick either, just look!” He had
a roaring hard underneath his leathers! Nice one too! We both fell out
laughing as Button ran to his Master’s arms.
Chief walked up behind me and put his arms around me and spoke to Button,
“I’m a full blood Yavapie Indian Button and I’ve seen Magic done by the
Shamans of my tribe but I have never seen any Magic anywhere as powerful as
the Magic that Beau can put into an object. So remember what the Dungeon
Master said! Only use it for good!”
“I will Chief! Are you a real Chief?”“I’m next in line Button, I’m a prince of
my tribe!” “That’s close enough for me, Chief!” Button said. Everyone laughed.
“Come on little one we have to get on the road. We got an hour and a half ride
ahead of us!” Everyone walked them out to Master Zack’s Harley. Button put on
his helmet and Master Zack put his on too. They waved and were gone!
Then they started in on me. “Gees that was a sweet thing to do for the Kid
Beau! That’s gonna’ mean more to him than you can ever imagine.”
“I wondered who you were buying that for that day? I had to pay for it but he
wouldn’t tell me who he was buying it for! You Guys have any idea how much
that thing cost?!”
“ I do!” Spoke up Billy. “Eighteen caret Gold ain’t cheep!”
“I do too!” Said Yoshie.
“Please Master Jim!”
“Well, let’s just say it cost two more clams than a basket full! And you
bought it before you even knew what you’d done for him! You didn’t know until
last night! Did you?”
“No Sir!” he grabbed me, hugged me and kissed me on the neck!
“I’m fucking proud of you slave!”
“Hell we all are! “ Chimed in Master Beryl. I knew I picked a winner that
night in the barn Son!”
Everyone said their good byes and left but Chief! He had to be into work
tomorrow so he said his good byes to both of us! He really didn’t want to
leave and Big Jim knew it. Why don’t you stay Chief! My slave here will loan
you a pair of his coveralls! You can go to work from here in the morning. I’ll
even let you fuck my slave if I can watch and maybe play with your Butt a
little. Hell! I own him now! He can’t say no!”
“He’s right, you know, Chief! I no longer have a say in the matter but orders
like that from his Master are easy for a slave to obey!
“I’d love for you to stay Chief. The Dungeon Master here is a real slave
driver and gets me up at the crack of dawn!” They started laughing and it
dawned on me what I’d just said. “Another Beaverism?” I asked Big Jim.
“Wait ‘till Jeb hears this one!”
“No! Like Master Zack said last night. I know when to back off. I’d love to
stay but I’m afraid I wouldn’t get much rest. We got a big day tomorrow and
I’m taking more and more of your job to help Jake! He hardly comes out on the
floor anymore except to help if we get backed up. He’s good about that! I do
all the assignments. I need to be sharp tomorrow.
I’ve never met a group of people that makes me feel more welcome and
comfortable. Beau, I haven’t been to a Gay bar since I met you! See what
influence you guys have on me! I think all day about all of you and it makes
my days fly by. And meeting Master Beryl with Blaine! I instantly loved the
both of them. I get grilled at work by Jake as to how you’re doing, what’s new
with the group, when were you becoming a slave? When and where will the
Ceremony be? He really loves you Beau! On and on and on Chief talked as Big
Jim and I walked him to his bike. He gave us each a hug, got on his Norton,
and waved on his way down the hill.
The Dungeon Master playfully picked me up in his arms on the way in and
carried me into the living room.
“Dungeon Master of all the Boots, Cock’s and Balls I kissed last night there
was one set that I most wanted to pay homage to and never had them offered to
me!” He looked and opened his mouth to speak then thought, “Oh Shit! You’re
right! I was getting in line and something came up! I went to take care of it
and never got back. I am so sorry! I will make it up to you right now”. He
carried me to the Auditorium to the front of the hall and there was Master Jeb
sitting in the dark.
“Jeb you alright?” Big Jim asked his friend.
“Oh yeah! I’m fine! I come out here a lot and sit in the dark to collect my
thoughts. What brings you guys out here?”
“I have a gross error to correct as Dungeon Master!” He sat me down on my
feet.
“Master Jeb wasn’t in line last night either Dungeon Master!”
“You’re right slave I wasn’t! I had to go in the house and lay down but I was
there for all the Ceremonies and they were the best we’ve ever had. The crowd
of people was wonderful. I’m willing to make up for it now if you’ll forgive
me slave.” I went to him and said,
“Please my Master. I’ll escort you to the stage myself!” I helped him up and
took his arm and helped him climb the steps to the stage. The Dungeon Master
had lit three candles. A symbol of the three souls present. I knelt in front
of Master Jeb first and kissed each of his big boots and then sat back on my
feet,
“May I Master....?”
“You have permission slave!”
“I undid his leather pants and gently pulled out his beautiful cock and balls.
I kissed the head of his thick cock and then raised each of his heavy balls
and kissed each of them lovingly. I licked them clean and kissed the shaft of
his cock and watched it engorge with blood.
“Do you wish more Master?”
“No that was more than enough homage for tonight as both of you can see!”He
said laughing.
“I am now your property Master! If you need me you have but to snap your
fingers Sir and I will come to your bed to pleasure you best I can!”
“I will slave but not tonight! You have your Dungeon Master to take care of
tonight! I dare say he’s earned that right from you tonight and has my
blessing for a job well done!”
“Master Jim was next! He had already ripped off his cod piece and shoved it
into his back pocket. I kissed, licked and cleaned those giant boots and he
let me without saying a word. When I was finished I sat back and ask if he was
pleased with my cleaning job.
“Quite pleased slave! Now show me the homage that is due me!” I kissed Babe
and couldn’t stop kissing him. I held the Dungeon Masters balls in my hand and
kissed each one of them with love. I licked and cleaned them and sat back
again.
“That was fine slave! I know it’s late but it might be better this way. I got
paid a hell of a lot more respect than time would have allowed last evening.
Now, get up here and show your new owner love. He was right! It was better. I
hugged and kissed him passionately.
“Congratulations slave you are now our personal possession.” Said Master Jeb.
“We haven’t owned a better one Jeb!” The Dungeon Master sighed.
“We need to get him to bed! He has a hell of a day coming tomorrow.”
We helped Master Jeb into the house as he wanted to get to bed.
“Do you need me to help you Master!”
“Just with my boots Son!” I didn’t hesitate! I got my leg around them and felt
his other big boot on my ass as he gently pushed! That boot eased off and then
came easily. I did the same for the other and it was off.
“Thank you slave!”
“It’s an honor to serve you Master!”
“Gimme’ a hug Son!” I did and he asked softly as I was hugging him, “Happy?”
“You didn’t have to ask, you can tell!
“It’s so good to see! I’m so happy for you. I love you Son!”
“I know Master and I owe my happiness to you! How can I ever thank you!”
“Are you kidding! You do every day! You’re a fucking joy to have around. Look
what you did for that Kid this evening. I couldn’t believe you did that! It
was wonderful. You impressed the shit out of everyone with your
thoughtfulness! Who does that reflect on Son? I ask you? Who?”
“You and Master Jim?”
“Exactly! So you see in a way seeing you happy is a greater happiness for him
and I. You should understand that! To see Button happy was a greater happiness
for you!”
“It was indeed Master! I know what you’re talking about. Thanks for the
lesson!”
“Get out of here you scamp. I already told you I loved you!” He laughed as I
was leaving.
I got to the door and turned and spoke to him, “I love you Master and I’m
proud to be owned by you. It’s an honor Sir!” I turned and walked away.
I ran down to the Dungeon to shut every thing down and found the Dungeon
Master reading through my slave Journal. He motioned for me to sit down on the
bed in the cell that I was using for my personal get away. It was neat. I had
found an old picture of Master Jeb’s and put it up on the wall. It was cozy. I
had even spent a couple nights down here when I just need to withdraw from
everybody. They both were wise enough to give me my space. I found, much to my
amazement, that I needed time to myself. One night to myself and I would be
like new ready to take on the world. Maybe we all need our private space.
Trouble is too many people withdraw into themselves because of hurts, real or
imagined. They get lost in their own quagmire and are afraid to venture out or
take someone’s hand that has reached out to help them. No Man is an island.
For best results the Rx for life should be: Take two people per day as needed
with a grain of salt.
“I want to apologize for reading from your private Journal at the Ceremony
last night Son!” “No apology necessary Master. I was flattered that you
thought enough of it to read from it!”
“I wanted to tell you why?”
“You don’t have to Master. I didn’t mind.”
“Well, I’m going to anyway. So just sit there and listen.”
“Yes Sir!”
“I have been the one reading your Journal all this time. Jeb has really been
sick. I give him the oral, high spot, version and then he can relate to you in
your talks. It’s about all he can do these days Beau. While reading your
accounts of people, places and things they jump off the page at me. Your
descriptions of people that I have known for years are sometime a deeper more
knowledgeable portrait than I could ever have imagined writing. I’m fascinated
how you do that? The section I read in the Ceremony was one of the best
descriptions of going from despair to hope I’ve ever read! Furthermore, it
said more in the fewest possible words about Masters and slaves than anything
I ever read. I was not alone. I was approached by twenty, twenty five people
that asked me if I would ask you for a copy of what I read. It impressed the
shit out of a lot of people. To say nothing about the people who stood and
spoke on your behalf. You are the only person that knows my Education level
and you should know that I don’t tell you these things because I ‘thunk it wuz
perty!’”
“When I read it the first time I was a basket case. I thought, ‘Get a hold of
yourself you old romantic son of a bitch. You’re just to close to the trees!’
and satisfied myself with that explanation. Then when I read it to Jeb, when I
looked up after reading it to him, **he** was a mess. We both had a good laugh
at ourselves when I told him I responded the same way. You couldn’t see the
audience but I doubt there was a dry eye in the house. So in my estimation you
earned the Ovation you received.”
“Thank you Master.”
“My point is this. I come down here sometime after I’m sure you’re asleep and
read what you’ve written. I have never been disappointed with what I read.
Have you ever considered taking a course in writing?”
“No Sir.”
“I want your blessing to talk your Master about this. I’m going to anyway! As
my slave you have no say in the matter but I’m wise enough, and love you
enough, to ask for that. I know you tend to keep your creative talents to
yourself but you shouldn’t. I would like to share this Journal with your
Master. It will give him a leg up in his personal training. It’s almost a
blueprint of you. In short, it’s one of the most remarkable things I’ve ever
read from a novice untrained writer. Some have it! Some don’t. You definitely
have a talent.”
I sat there for a long while thinking. Quiet. Looked at him and told him,
“Certainly you have my blessing. I’m a bit embarrassed but I’ll get over it!
You’ve done a lot to get me over some large self doubts Master. Like telling
the story this morning about Josh Cochran’s dick. I could have never done that
without your encouragement!”
“Master Jeb tells me I’ve come a long way. Do you think so?”
“Absolutely slave. You are not the little cocky ‘Butch Bottom’ that walked in
here two months ago. For one thing you’re now a slave. You wouldn’t even
consider it that first night. I really didn’t think Jeb was going to convince
you of your needs and the best road for happiness. Especially after I scared
the shit out of you!”
“It wasn’t Master Jeb that convinced me.”
“What was it then?”
“When I left that night I knew, no matter how hurt I felt because of your
rejection, no matter the cost, not having you in my life was not an option.
Even if you were not going to allow yourself to love me, I was going to love
you and at least serve you for a while. I even took the position that I would
obey you, respect you, pleasure you, but I would do nothing to try to change
your mind. You had laid it out for me! You were not going to get involved
because when training was over I would be sold! End of story! How many times
did you tell me that?
“If it was more than once, it was too many!” Admitted Master Jim.
I may be a slave but I’ll be damned if I will beg any Man to love me. That I
should love you, was my business as long as I didn’t try to manipulate you. I
think it confused you for a while. Now don’t think I’m all that selfless,
remember, I had few if any options! Master Jeb knew that I had come to the end
of the road and I was ready to check out. I even bought a gun.”
“Whether any thing came of it or not I would have had the pleasure of being
used and being around someone I needed! At least for a while. I would deal
with the future when it came. Then I met Master Earl. I’ve asked myself if I
would have fallen in love with him if you hadn’t opened that door? I went
through the tortures of the damned with guilt! How could I love him so much
and have my heart want to jump out of my chest every time I looked at you. I
couldn’t even sit beside you and smell you without getting hard. So I tried to
chalk it up to lust! Yeah! I don’t love him! It’s pure lust for a very sexy
big Man. That dog didn’t hunt long! That weekend we went to Beryl’s I knew I
was lost. Again, I couldn’t NOT have you in my life in some way!”
“I took one last chance that Friday night I spent that weekend here. You had
opened up a little to me and seemed regretful. You floored me by putting your
cards on the table. Took a Big Man to do that! I only loved you all the more
for it. I have grown so much with you that we will never be apart for long.
It’s only because of you and your blessing that I think I can be a good slave
to Master Earl. Master Earl knows that you are Family. Not in the sense of the
‘Group” Family but my own extended Family. He knows my feelings for you and
accepts them. He knew that you and I would even bond more though training, yet
he insisted I go through with it. He’s not a small Man Master!”
“He has shown me nothing but love and respect. I know you’re right about
that!”
“Look! Master! I am now officially a slave! I have several other titles as
well! I am your Little Brother! I’m you’re ‘oley oley in free Buddy’ and
several others. I haven’t stopped being those things according to your
‘personal needs’ speech in the Gym the other morning!” “Your right Son! That’s
another! You are my first born slave! My Son!”
“I’m not gonna’ call you Dad! I already call fifteen people in the Family
Dad!. I can’t keep track of which Dad’s on First!!” He roared with laughter.
“I’ll call you D.M. for Dungeon Master! No! On second thought, add an ‘O’ to
the middle of that and it isn’t too respectful. “I am so proud of you as
Dungeon Master and to be your first. I’m going to tell you this but it must be
a confidence between us, I was laying under that leather sheet listening to
your voice and was so proud that it was you that was conducting my slave
Ceremony. You were really good!
“Think so?”
“Don’t milk it!!”
“I’ll milk you! You little shit!!” He grabbed me and turned me across his knee
and proceeded to spank my ass hard. I yelled at him! I warned him! He wouldn’t
stop! He wouldn’t listen! Just kept on laughing the harder he spanked me and I
shot all over his leathers and boots. Then that hard nosed Old Man made me
lick him clean. Damn near came the second time doing it!
“Come on Tiger! Let’s get you to bed!”
**Part II~Visitations**
what if a keen of a lean wind flays
screaming hills with sleet and snow:
strangles valleys by ropes of thing
and stifles forests in white ago?
Blow hope to terror; blow seeing to blind
(blow pity to envy and soul to mind)
whose hearts are mountains, roots are trees,
it's they shall cry hello to the spring
e e cummings
By the way!” Big Jim asked on the way up the stairs, “What was it you said to
Zack that nearly killed the poor man.
“Well, I was trying to make him a complement and I fucked it up. I asked him
if he would consider a request from me. He agreed and I asked him if he would
start referring to me more as slave instead of Beau. because I didn’t know
why, and don’t know why, when he calls me that it makes my dick hard. Then I
showed him my dick was standing straight up!” Big Jim roared with laughter
then said, “No wonder he was doubled up!” “Well, that’s not the best part!”
“There’s more?” “When he responded that he would be please to do so he told me
it didn’t do his old dick any harm either and he showed me! His was rock hard
too!” We both fell out laughing.
My big blue Ox was tired. He’d had a full day. I took his boots off and helped
him off with his leathers and he headed for the showers.
“Master Ox!”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t shower tonight!”
“I’ve been sweating all day in those leathers. I never stopped long enough to
come up here and change!”
“I know!”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure!” Was I ever. He still had that healthy male odor mixed with the
lingering smell of old leather. Sleep was going to be sporadic. I already had
a roaring hard on.
“I’ll jump in the shower!”
“No you won’t! Get in this bed! Now! You’re not the only one that’s hooked on
body odors Sometime you walk by me and I smell you and my old dick gets hard
instantly! All I can think about is how soon I can get into that little butt!”
“Yes Master!” I giggled and put my backside to him. He put his big furry arm
around me and I felt like you do when you’re on one of those amusement rides
and the big padded bar comes down and locks you in! I was locked in for the
night. No chance of this slave falling off the bed. No Sir! Few Beasties,
Goulies, or things that go bump in the night would take on my Giant. I was
safe! I could always count on a good nights sleep in the arms of the Giant or
my Master! The dragons of horror wouldn’t come around when I was in their
protection.
**MASTER SAM & YOSHIE~**
That week was indeed a full one but we repeated nearly the same schedule like
clock work every day! It was over before I could turn around to catch my
breath. My body was growing by leaps and bounds. The testosterone pumped into
my Butt by a couple of loads of Man come per day was taking it’s toll at the
Gym. Even the owner whistled that Friday morning when he walked in and we were
pumped. We did extra shit for him on Fridays ‘cause we couldn’t come in
Saturdays and Sundays. We washed and folded enough extra towels so he wouldn’t
run out over the weekend. He was shocked that we would even bother.
Friday came and Master Sam arrived at exactly 5:30 to pick me up. He rode up
on his Harley and asked where my leathers were. I told him they were in my
cell. He instructed me to wear them. I went to put them on as he chatted with
Master Jeb and Jim. I returned in about ten minutes with no shirt, my vest,
chaps and boots on. I had a small bag of extra clothes. Master Sam said,
“Take that vest off for a minute slave I wanna’ see!” I did and he told me to
slowly turn around. Then he just smiled real big and stuck out his hand to
Master Jim.
“Well done, Dungeon Master! Well done!” Big Jim sort of bowed to Sam.
“Come on slave! Dr. slave is on pins and needles waiting for us to get back.
Can’t wait to see you! Boy do you have a fan! Woah! I just don’t see it! He
threw back his head and laughed.
Holy shit! Sam could ride a bike. Never have I ridden on the back of a bike
that the owner was in that much control! He just seemed to become a part of
it! With the slightest move he was in and out of traffic, up and over, under
and around, he moved the bike with the grace of a ballet dancer. Impressed the
shit out of me! Who would think....? My boss? I was learning to appreciate
this man more and more. Yoshie adored him. Couldn’t do enough for him. Worried
about him! Fussed over him! He LOVED it! It had been Yoshie’s first week as a
rookie Intern in the ER at the Hospital and I couldn’t wait to hear the gory
details.
We arrived and as I got off his bike I complimented Master Sam on the ride
over.
“You really know how to ride a bike Master Sam! Impressed the shit out a’ me!”
He smiled. “Years of riding Son! Wasted years! Taught by the best!”
“Who?”
“A Horny Old Goat that lives in the desert!”
“Master Beryl?”
“The best!” I did remember riding laying back against Big Beryl’s hairy chest
with that one huge arm around me riding back from the barn that day and he WAS
good on a bike. The Old Man was good at damn near everything he did!
“Beryl’s motto: Ride the damn thing! Don’t carry it on your back! He just
taught me how!”
We walked into their beautiful home and Yoshie came to greet me in the raw
with his collar on. We hugged and kissed and started in talking and poor Sam
was just left to shake his head in mirth at us. He did interrupt and said,
“Here’s the drill Kid! Tonight with us alone! We deliver you to your Master’s
place around noon for brunch! You stay over with him! He brings you over here
Sunday before noon for brunch! We have you back to Jeb’s and Jim’s by 9:00P.M.
How’s that?
“Sound wonderful Master Sam. I can’t thank you and Yoshie enough. Underneath
your gruff exterior beats a warm, giving and caring heart. I love you Master
Sam!”
“Here! Here! Don’t get mushy with me!” He laughed then eased up, “We love you
too you little shit! Come here!” He grabbed me and hugged me and swung me
around the room. Yoshie had left for a moment and returned with a small
carefully wrapped package
with a small ribbon tightly and elegantly tied around it.
“For you Beau!” Yoshie said as he held it out to me.
“Gosh! What’s this?”
“Open it!” I did and what I saw took my breath away. It was Joshua Cochran’s
cock perfectly sculpted to the outline of his real dick with approximately one
quarter inch of the acrylic left all around. It was perfect to the proportions
of his cock! I was truly stunned! I knew his Dad was a craftsman but this was
beautiful work.
“Isn’t it beautiful Beau?” Yoshie asked with a huge smile.
“Beautiful? My God Yoshie! It’s a fucking work of art! I am speechless!
Stunned! It’s beyond beautiful wouldn’t you say Boss Man?”
“I’ve seen a lot of his Dad’s work and that’s one of his best!”
“What do I owe your Dad, Yoshie? I’ll have Master Jim send him a check from my
account!”
“Don’t be silly Beau! He did it for you! It’s his gift to you!”
“Then I must do something nice for him! Can you think of anything he might
like that I can get him to show my appreciation. I hope someday I may get to
thank him in person and shake his hand!”
“I’m sure you will! I have him over quite often for dinner. We’ll make
arrangements some evening. Let me think on that and I’ll get back to you. He’s
funny, he doesn’t tell his Kids very often that he wishes anything. I’ll get
back to you.”
“This is too perfect! If I ever do run into Josh Cochran I hope he can
appreciate the love his cock has had since it left his body.” They laughed and
I didn’t mean it to be funny but then laughed too. “I guess that came out
wrong but you both knew what I meant!” They laughed again. So did I.
“Show Beau were he can get undressed Yoshie!” Said Master Sam.
“Yes Dad! Come Beau, bring your bag, we have you in the guest bedroom.”I
followed Yoshie and got undressed as we talked non stop about everything. He
helped me with my collar and locked it and carried the key to his Master. I
walked back into the living room and went to Master Sam, knelt in front of him
for my ritual greeting. When he told me to rise he gave me the biggest kiss
right on the mouth. I didn’t hold back, I kissed him too. “Damn!” I said still
in his arms “I fell so comfortable here! It’s like a second home to me!” Sam
smiled real big and patted me on the butt. “That’s how we want you to feel!
Glad you do! You’re more than welcome here Son! You know that! Guess who
wanted to stop over later to say ‘Hello!’?”
“Dad Jake?”
“You guessed it! I told him around eight! He can’t stay long but he didn’t get
to talk much with you at the Ceremony but I have to the give the redneck son
of a bitch credit. He swallowed all his prejudices to come there and do that
because of his love for you! Takes a big Man to do that! He’s working out
better than we hoped in his new job and Chief has all but taken over your job.
He knows so damn much more than all the other mechanics combined. Even hard
nose Jake has to admit that Chief knows his onions. Every day he comes back
off the floor from break with Chief, shakes his head and says, my Son can pick
‘em. We just roar with laughter at him! He’s lightened up a lot. Finally met
Yoshie! Loves Yoshie!”
“Well, maybe you should think about making Chief Foreman Boss! I would step
down for him!”
“Did I tell you he’d say that!” He said looking at Yoshie.
“Yes Dad, you did!”
“You’re our new Foreman and you will be when you get back! Is that
understood!”
“Thank you Master Sam! I understand!”
“Someday but I have reasons for you being Foreman you don’t even know about!
We got our eye on Chief! He’s doing a great job. He’s doubled the output since
Jake was Foreman and I know you will do as well. You already were that last
week!”
“How do you like your hamburger Beau?” Master Sam yelled from the patio.
“Medium is fine!” I yelled back from the kitchen talking to Yoshie.
“He’s cute!” Said Yoshie,“He always asks everyone how they want their
hamburger then
they always come out the same. Done! But their good! He’s a pretty fair cook.
Although we do a lot of take out food.”
“Yeah! Master Earl and I live on take out during the week. He doesn’t feel
like cooking and after crawling under those trucks all day I don’t either.”
“With an Education like yours Beau how did you end up a mechanic?”[br“I walked
in off the street and told Sam I’d o anything for any amount of money!”
“He put a broom and a mop in my hand and said here!”
“I had money when I got out of the service but I wouldn’t touch that. I didn’t
care what I did I just wanted to make enough to have my own apartment and a
few essential.. Glad I never was a collector ‘cause I didn’t have a lot to get
rid of.”
“Look at me. When Master Beryl and Blaine brought me to Master Jeb I had the
clothes on my back. I didn’t have money for a phone call! I was so miserably
in love and I mean misery! I still love Breed to this Day. But I love the idea
of love and not what I had! It was a living nightmare. Still, I know it wasn’t
his fault, Beau! He use to scare me to death when he’d wake up in the middle
of the night screaming at the top of his voice. He was reliving the hell he
went through in Nam.
“I’m so happy with Sam that Breed doesn’t cross my mind much. Did you remember
seeing in the cards where I would run into Breed ?”
“Yes I remember I just didn’t want to tell you because what you were telling
me about not entering Internship for three months didn’t make sense. Now it
does! You just started. You sure you want to know?”
“I’m going to meet him at the hospital?”
“Yep! I don’t know how but you will!”
“Beau a chill just ran up my back ‘cause when I walked into that ER last
Monday morning all hell broke loose and I was up to my asshole in victims of a
run away bus accident on the freeway. I thought one of the men was Breed. I
saw his face and turned. When I turned back it was someone else. Weird!”
“No it isn’t! It was precognition. You saw his face in the ER because you will
see his face in the ER. Don’t know when! Wouldn’t do either of us any good nor
him either to try to warn him. What’s gonna’ happen is gonna’ happen!”
“Thank sweetheart!” Yoshie said to me.
“Just don’t be frightened when it happens remember you have the love of a good
Master to give you courage that is responsible for you being there in the
first place, second you have my blessing that nothing can harm you!” I laid my
hand on his head and touched it lightly. “Damn! I felt something go through
me!”
“It was my protection! You are now protected but you won’t need it. You will
know how to handle the situation. Besides Breed had a big shocker to tell the
Family!”
“That he has decided to become a slave to some Man?”
“How did you know?”
“I always had a gut feeling that’s what he was meant to be and he was beating
me up because he was hating the part of himself he knew wanted to be a slave!
The worst beating he ever gave me, the one that made up my mind to get out or
he was going to kill me, I accused him of that! He went into such a rage you
would have thought a Demon had entered his body. I don’t think he remembered
doing those things to me! I was right! I knew it but I didn’t even want to
face the truth ‘cause I was imprinted and thought I loved him. I did and I
didn’t!
He had killed most of the passionate love I had for him and what was left was
loving him out of fear. That’s sick! I was sick! It took Master Jeb and Jim to
nurse me back to health. Those Men are Saints. I lived there and worked at a
small job in Hollywood. I can’t tell you the number of nights, even before I
began slave training, I would cry myself to sleep in Master Jim’s or Master
Jeb’s arms. They never once scolded me nor told me to shape up. They just let
it run it’s course. One morning I announced to them I was through being
miserable that I wanted another life, make me a good slave and sell me!
They did precisely that. How I lucked out and got the greatest Goddamned Man
God put on this Earth to buy me is a mystery. I go to sleep every night
thanking him for my fortune. After we got together he ask what I wanted to do
with my life and I told him ‘To be your slave Master!’ He said ,’No! No! As a
vocation! What did you ever truly want to be. I told him an M.D.! I was
working toward that when I met Breed! He just said fine, get catalogues from
U.S.C.! My slave will be a Doctor! There was no further conversation, Nothing!
I obeyed and he put me through Med School at U.S.C.!
Master Sam walked back in the house with a platter of Cheeseburgers and told
me to run into the guest bedroom where I was staying and get his sweater out
of the closet for him. I immediately obeyed, walked in to the room, there
sitting on the bed was my Master in all his leathers. I instantly fell to my
knees and kissed his boot. He let me go though the ritual and hugged and
kissed me then asked,
“Surprised?”
“Yes Sir!!” I took him by the hand but before I left I saw a sweater in the
closet. I looked at it and he knew what was going through my mind.
“Do it! He said!” As he reached for the sweater. I walked back into the room
with the sweater and handed to Master Sam and said .
“Gee Master Sam! Those burger look great and I’m hungry.” This wry smile came
across Sam’s face as he thanked me for the sweated.
“Think your gonna’ put one over on me don’t ya’ Kid!” And I started laughing
and went to hug him and thank him for the wonderful surprise!
“Get in here Earl! The very idea of you going along with a prank like that!”
He said laughing. “Had me going for a minute though!” We all laughed. The
evening was Magical. We relaxed, ate dinner, talked and just enjoyed each
other. Yoshie told me all about the Bus accident and he hadn’t been there more
than half and hour. He didn’t know were anything was and had to keep asking
nurses for stuff. He said he got through it with a second year resident that
took him under his wing. He said it’s steady paced work all day long and he
loves it. He asked if he could tell Master Sam and Master Earl what we
discussed about the cards. I said sure. He did and Master Sam said, “Well, if
it has to happen at all that would be a good place. I don’t wish the Man harm
but he would be very vulnerable at a time like that. Think you can handle it
Son!”
“With your love, our Family’s love, and Beau’s protection.....? I can handle
it Dad!”
Yoshie and I cleaned up and finished in the kitchen. Our two Master’s were
sitting in Master Sam’s spa and invited us to join. The key to your collar is
on the table there Son. Give it to your Master so he can take it off! I did
and sat by Master Earl as the took my collar off.
Yoshie was curled up in Sam’s big arms. I did the same with my Master and was
in heaven. “Nephew indeed!” I winked at Sam. He smiled and shrugged. and
replied,
“Yeah! Isn’t it strange! He has a Nephew named Yoshie!” He and I fell out
laughing and Yoshie and my Master didn’t understand until Sam told them the
story about finding me laughing at something Jake had tossed of to me about
Sam. Then they laughed too.
The door bell rang and Sam ushered Jake out to the patio. I got out of the tub
and got him all wet on his coveralls hugging him.
“Dad did you get to meet my Master at the Ceremony. You were out of there so
fast I didn’t get to introduce you.”
“I met your Master on his Cop bike at work that day! You introduced me then!
Hello Master Earl how are you!” He and Master Earl shook hands.
“I’m fine Jake, won’t you join us?”
“I can’t stay long but what the hell, sure I’d love to for a while!” Sam
offered him a beer and snapped his fingers at me to get him one. I rushed to
the kitchen. I handed Dad his beer as he eased into the hot water. I hugged
him again and thanked him for giving me into slavery. “That was a really sweet
thing to do Dad.”
“What’s a Dad for if he can’t give his favorite Son into slavery?” Then he
started laughingWe all did at the absurdity of the statement.
“Damn Son! We really miss you at work! It’s just not the same without you!
I’ll admit you picked one hell of a winner in Chief. Man knows as much or more
than I do about some of them Damn trucks. He’s sharp Beau and is generous with
his knowledge and help. He can explain something to the dumbest guy there and
he gets it! Besides, I keep tabs on you through him. He’s good natured and
puts up with my shit.”
“It’s good to see you Dad!”
“You too Kid! Stand up a minute!” I did and he whistled.
“You got bigger tits than my wife Son!” Sam almost drowned in the tub
laughing. So did I. “Well, thanks Dad! I think!” He just laughed. True to his
word he drank his Beer and had to leave. I got out with him to see him off. At
the door he hugged me again and snapped his fingers as he winked at Sam. I
dropped to my knees and kissed each boot, found his hand waiting and completed
the ritual. Get up here slave and give your Old Man a hug for the road. Love
ya’ Kid!”
“Love you too Dad. Thanks for everything!” He was gone.
“He really loves you Beau!” Said Sam as he put his arms around my shoulders
and walked me back out to the patio. “And you probably do have bigger tits
than his wife!” We laughed again. It was a wonderful evening . They had to go
to bed early as Yoshie had early morning at the Hospital but would be home by
11 or so. Master and I stayed in the water for a while longer enjoying each
other. Just being quiet and him doing outrageous things to my tits.
“Your Dungeon Master said he thought these tits, that I will soon own, cry out
for heavy gage rings. How do you feel about that slave.
“You know how I feel about that Master! If you want heavy gaged rings in these
tits then I will have them. End of subject.”
“Good answer slave! I have to say, I’m leaning to the Dungeon Master’s point
of view. I think I could really get into seeing you with them. They would be
great to play with! And perhaps and cock piercing. A Prince Albert I think!
That would round off your tit piercing’s very nicely. I can use it as an
alternative place to connect your leash to lead you around. I know Billy would
get a charge out of that.” We laughed.
“What ever you decide for me is what I want Master! I would give you anything,
I love you that much!”
“Well, let’s get out of here and you can give me a piece of that sweet ass of
yours!”
“There is a God!” I said under my breath and he slapped me on my Butt!
It turned out to be an idyllic laid back weekend. We spent the next day at
Master Earls and I got to see Monty again. You remember Pussleene. Well, we
named her Montgomery because Master Earl referred to her as his Ward. We call
her Monty for short. A boy’s name you say. Well, she’s had her itch removed so
she doesn’t know the difference. She was glad to see me , I think! As glad as
a Cat can get, I guess! It was nice to see something that was familiar to me
from my past. It was as if she was telling me, “So nice of you to visit. I’m
happy here. Come back soon. Love ya’ Write when you get work!” She too had
fallen in love with my Master, the tramp!
Master Sam had me back to Mt. Washington at 9:15 P.M. P.S.T. I couldn’t thank
him enough.
“Didn’t I tell you your Family would take care of you Son! That you had Family
now!” “Yes Master Sam!”
“You didn’t understand when I told you that did you!”
“You understand it now Son!”
“Yes Master Sam!”
“Love you!”
“You too! My love and thanks to Yoshie!”
He waved as he headed down the hill. I had tears in my eyes but my Giant had
his arms around my front and held me tight. I was glad to see him even if I
had another hellacious week coming! Believe it or not I was looking forward to
it!
**MASTER BERYL & BLAINE**
I continued to write more in my Journal. I would bring it to bed with me so
the Dungeon Master didn’t have to hunt for it. Several times I feel asleep as
he was reading it. . I tried to log all the feelings and responses to
personalities that I could cram into it during the time I had to write. I
somehow managed to get in an hour every morning by getting up an hour and a
half earlier than the Dungeon Master. In the evenings I would get in a couple
hours during a free period before I had to start helping with dinner. Sometime
we relied on take out and I even got more time in. I had filled almost three
quarters of the Journal.
The Dungeon Master didn’t comment again about it . He felt it might make me
nervous about recording my true feelings. It didn’t! I was who I was now! I
didn’t care what the rest of the world cared. I was not writing for him to
like me nor anyone who should read it. I was writing with a vengeance now
against what I saw as great injustices. Not only in my life but in human kind.
It was doing something to the Dungeon Master. He was looking at me through
different eyes. I was becoming something more than just his toy salve boy.
He was invited out to the dessert to visit with me. He wasn’t lied to. He was
told that Master Earl would be invited as well. He told them he would bring me
out and stay Friday evening but he had to be back sometime Saturday morning to
check on Jeb. Master Jeb had been in bed for several days and I would have to
take him his meals. Our continuing conversations were held in his bedroom. He
was now reading every word of my Journal when the Dungeon Master left it on
his night stand. His attitude towards me was changing as well. I was a slave
yet there was a new unspoken respect that felt good yet I felt I’d lost
something too. Maybe it was the accepting and earthiness of Master Zack
calling me slave that turned me on so much. I began to think of him and get an
erection every time I recalled him calling me slave. As Einstein once
observed: Something was moving!
I recorded just that in my Journal and added that I had worked this hard to
achieve something I really wanted only to find out that the thing I most
needed was being taken away form me because of my intellect. That didn’t seem
right! I recalled the Dungeon Master’s personal need speech from the Gym and
his need for me being a little less formal in private. Should I expect the
same? I didn’t say I should I just presented the conundrum. It had it’s
desired effect. I was beginning to get ‘that old feeling’ again as I said good
bye to Master Jeb for the weekend. He referred to me as his total slave and my
old dick went ‘sproing’! Yep, they had gotten the message. Good! I needed
that!
The ride out to the dessert was glorious. We left about 4:30 in the afternoon
to be there by 6:00. I had been looking forward to this all week. We no sooner
passed Kellog hill than a fellow biker pulled up along side and gave us the
high sign. It was the Chief and he had been invited to the dessert as well.
Great! He must have left immediately from work. I could just imagine the
questions he had to answer for Dad about the coming weekend. I laughed to
myself. Master Jim yelled over his shoulder. “He cuts a handsome figure on his
bike with his leathers on!” I had to agree! Little did I know that he was
beginning to go in the evenings to the same Gym and was working out hard.
We arrived to find twenty or thirty other bikes spread around their house.
Tents were thrown up everywhere. Big rocks were gathered in various places for
campfires. It can get cold in the dessert at night even in June and July.
Everyone was there except my Master’s bike. He was not coming until tomorrow
morning. He had not been invited for Friday night! The Horny Old Lovable Goat
knew what he was doing. He didn’t just fall off the Turnip Truck! “It’s the
Dungeon Master, Beau and the Chief” Yelled Button as he turned to look at
Master Zack who nodded his approval to go ahead. He ran up to me and I
gathered him in my arms and kissed him. Then spun around with him. He was
getting a dark tan with no clothes in the dessert and he held up his prized
gold Medallion for me to see. I kissed it for him!
“You look gorgeous with that Medal on. You’re gorgeous without it but it just
looks so handsome on you little one.” I kissed him again. He thanked me and
told me he loved me again. I assured him that I still loved him as he led me
by the hand to his Master. There in front of all assembled I dropped to my
knees and kissed each of Master Zack’s boots lovingly and found his hand
waiting. I kissed it lovingly as well. He spoke firmly, “Arise my good slave
and kiss your Master!” Sproing! I leap to his arms and kissed him a good one.
He didn’t hold back and he moved my hand to his crotch. I did the same with
his and we ended the kiss by breaking up laughing in each others arms patting
each other on the back.
“Forgive me Master Zack for not taking my clothes off first. No! Master Zack,
please don’t forgive me and make me do it all over again when I do get my
clothes off.” We started laughing again and it was obvious that there was
something special between the three of us. “Then you are **not** forgiven
slave!” He winked at me and we laughed again! Button knew the joke and laughed
too. He was so happy Master Zack and I had become Master/slave friends. I was
wondering if Button would get upset if I offered to please his Master. I
wanted to bad! There was just something about Master Zack! Button felt it too.
He knew the magnetic attraction his Master held and wanted to serve him more
and better.
Would I help him, teach him some things! Would I?? I thought to myself, “You
hold him down Button and I’ll rape him here in front of all these people.
We’ll show them how two good slaves can pleasure a Master!” I told him that
later in the afternoon and it set him off on a giggle spree that everyone
wanted to know what I had said to him. He wasn’t about to tell a confidence
his older Brother had shared with him. Not even his Master! Again Zack knew
when to back off! Button was really coming out of his shell and everyone was
falling in love with him. He had an impish personality, a delightful sense of
humor and a biting wit! He didn’t use it often but when he did he leveled the
camp. Master Zack was blooming he was so happy with Button. He was beginning
to be attractive to a lot of people. Even Master Beryl told me he had never
seen Zack this handsome and happy. He radiated! Chief even noticed.
I had spotted Master Grainger and Master Bull coming towards us! Both drop
dead handsome straight Men. They had been the only two straight Men I had ask
to stand up for me at my Ceremony. They had big smiles on there faces and were
followed by their ladies. I was about to drop to my knees in front of both
when I heard this booming Basso Profundo voice barking behind me: “What the
Hell is going on here! I am Master of this house and it is my due to be kissed
first by any pretty slave!” Then Big Beryl started laughing as I dropped in
front of him begging him forgiveness for my breach of etiquette! I went
through the ritual greeting with him and jumped into his big arms telling him
how great it was to see him again. He was in tears! He started me crying! “I
have a small gift in the house for you later. Go greet everyone and welcome
slave to our home!
I immediately turned to Master Grainger winked and fell to my knees. He
allowed me to go through the ritual then gave me the hottest fucking Kiss I’d
gotten in days. Then I hugged and kissed his lady who was groping me all the
while making old swinger very hard. She stood me back and pointed to my crotch
for her mate. Look at that, “You’re a fool not to bid on this one!” We all
laughed at her joke.
Master Bull was next and he looked just like his name. He was a fucking good
looking Bull. I had heard that was not how he got his name but for other
attributes. When he kissed me he held me tight and I could feel the Bull
rising. Woah! Doggies! He was a Bull!. I kissed his lady and told her she was
one lucky lady. She just giggled.
I must have kissed fifteen pairs of boots, kissed fifteen Masters, straight
Men and Women in Clan Mc Innis. I was so glad to see them all again.
Surprisingly a lot of them commented on the passage from my Journal that the
Dungeon Master had read. They said they were moved to tears and wanted to know
if they could get a copy. I told them to ask the Dungeon Master as he had
final say. He had asked my blessing to print it and I had given it!
I finally got into the house and there were two or three more including the
handsome Chief that Button had just gotten through with the ritual greeting. I
too went through it with him! “You know you don’t have to go through that with
me!” He whispered as he kissed me on the neck. “Of course I do Master
Redfeather! You before others. You are my Savior, and a very important Master
to me. Please don’t deny me my place Chief!” He smiled and said, “You becoming
a slave has made you wise beyond your years! You’re right!”
Finally I got to my Brother in the kitchen who had no clothes on and was
talking to Master Zack. I hugged and kissed him and apologized for not getting
to him quicker. He just smiled and told me, “Honey I know you well enough to
know if there is one Master left with a decent pair of boots to kiss old
Blaine can take a number!” Then we all three exploded with laughter. He was
funny and knew me too well.
“Slave!” The Dungeon Master snapped his fingers for me to follow him to the
bedroom. I did as ordered and he and Master Beryl were alone with me. I
started taking off my clothes. “Master Beryl wants you to put your boots,
chaps and vest on for the afternoon slave. He got his collar out of his bag
for me and put it on then snapped his leash on to the front of it. I quickly
dressed as the two big Men chatted. When I finished Master Beryl turned around
to check out my plug. He pressed on it telling me to push back and I did!
“Good Dungeon Master! Nice tight fit! Seated well! Good job!” He grabbed my
leash and pulled me to his big face and gently kissed me again. I loved this
Old Man!
He led me back out into the crowd of people to ooohs and aaaahhs. Some one
started applauding and they all picked it up. I just blushed. They were all
gathered around.
“Now slave! Take off your vest for your Family to see!” I did and there were
audible gasps! Then they applauded again. “Is this the same slave you met out
here a couple of months ago?” “ Noooo....” They all agreed. “You’re looking
good Son!” He gave me a big bear hug. I noticed even Master Bull and Grainger
were impressed. To say nothing of their ladies. The one just kept shaking her
head goading Master Grainger, “I told you he was gonna’ be a prize but
noooooo!” She winked at me wickedly.
I put my vest back on and sat at the bar with Master Beryl. Blaine handed us a
Beer and Master Jim one too. He sat down to join us. Big Beryl pushed this
tiny gift rapped package with a tiny bow. “ This is for you Son!” I opened it
quickly and found a tiny card inside. I read the card and it said simply,
“Spend them wisely!” I pulled the cotton padding off the top and underneath
were two brand new freshly minted pennies. I threw my arms around him and ask
him how he knew what I wanted?
“‘Cause I knew where you’d spend ‘em slave!” Then roared with laughter. I
handed the box to Master Jim who almost fell off the bar stool laughing.
Blaine had this silly grin on his face. He was pleased at my reaction.
“Could I spend one in the barn Dad! If we can find the time to get away!”
“Hell we’ll make time to get away! You betch’um Little Beaver! You need
another this soon?”
“If you could find it in that big heart of yours to spoil me a little....?”
You have become wicked again. Yep! We just gotta’ take care of that Son!” He
couldn’t stop laughing. What do you think about asking Master Zack to come
along and watch Dad? Not Button , just Master Zack!”
“I think that’s a fine idea Son! Zack’s special to me!”
“I know he is and he’s become so to me! I would really love for him to watch!”
“Done! I’ll talk to Zack and set it up. Blaine can occupy Button. Button’s
gotten so loved that the whole Family will keep him occupied. You don’t want
to ask Jim?”
“No Dad he has his time with me! Please consider this for Master Zack’s sake
to be included!”
“Good idea! Good idea Son! He could use that right now! Make him feel special
with us, right!” “Exactly Dad! Please clear it with the Dungeon Master first!”
“Of course Son! Leave it to me! It’s good as done! We just have to find the
time!” He chuckled.
Button ran up and grabbed my hand and wanted to take me for a walk through the
camp site. I took my Beer and he led the way. We were greeted by everyone
asking us to sit with them. We stopped an he crawled in my lap, played with my
cock and balls as we chit chatted . Others brought their chairs over to join
and it was a wonderful evening with Family. These rugged gentle folk were fast
becoming my Family. I cared about these people and began to learn about each.
The sun was going down. It must have been about eight o’clock. Stays light on
the West Coast later due to time changes.
Button was getting restless and wanted me to go for a walk with him. I knew
when he wanted me alone so I walked with him into the huge rocks in the
dessert. The late afternoon colors were making the dessert magic. He had put
on his heavy pair off boots and a pair of chaps that fit him like a glove and
his little ass looked like a cherry on top of a Sundae.
“Beau, my Master hasn’t said anything to me but I know he would like for you
to pleasure him. Would you consider it! Please! For me!”
“Button darlin’ you are one hell of a good little slave to love your Master
that much to want him to have pleasure from someone else. If I am going to be
his slave for a weekend you must consider I have no choice if he wants me that
way. I must obey! I’m not saying it wouldn’t be a pleasure for me as well. I
have come to love your Master very much. I respect and admire him. My question
for you would be, could you watch? Would it upset you to watch?”
“Oh God no, Beau! If Master Zack would let me I would love to watch to learn.
I haven’t been a good slave for sometime to Master Zack but what you said to
me woke me up! I have a good Man who loves me and has gone through Hell with
me! He deserves the best Goddamn slave I can be to him. I’m working every day
to become that Beau. He’s happy with my progress but I know I need to learn
some things about pleasing him. Watching and asking questions later will help
me. I would be so grateful!”
“Alright! If I get off alone later with Big Beryl and your Master for a while,
do I have your permission to share what we’ve just talked about with him!”
“Sure Beau! I sometime have a hard time talking to him because I know how my
heart feels but I can’t find the right words. Maybe, it’s because I am too
much in love with him I’m so afraid of fucking up. I end up doing nothing when
I wanted to tell him what was in my heart.”
“It will come! Button! It will come! Just give it time! He loves you more than
you can know and is patient with you to a fault. Give your Old Man the benefit
of the doubt. I’ll get Master Beryl to have him take a ride with us later and
I’ll talk to him”
“Oh thank you Beau. I love you so much for what you’ve done for me and him!”
“You’re welcome Sweetheart! Now let’s get back! You’re getting chilled. Here
take my vest. I put it around him and it hung almost to his knees.. He looked
cute in it. I led him by the hand back to the camp fire where Master Zack was
sitting. He got up and saw I had given Button my vest and he smiled warmly.
“Master Beryl asked if I could take a brief ride with the two of you as time
permits. I’ll would be pleased and honored to slave!” “Damn Master Zack you
did it again!” We started laughing, the three of us. I have a few things to
talk about with you when we do withyour permission my good Master?” “You
certainly have my permission slave!” “Woah! Doggies! Do you realize what a hot
Dad you have Button?” “I do now Beau and I really love him!” He grabbed Button
and kissed him. “Now give Beau his vest and let’s get some more clothes on you
scamp! Thanks slave, that was thoughtful of you! I’ll add that to your list!”
I put my vest back on and headed for the house. It was getting cool in the
dessert. My buns were cold!
“It’s a go! All systems checked out and the bird flies sometime tomorrow
afternoon. You don’t think Earl will mind, do you?”
“Not if you tell him the truth! That you feel I need a booster and I even
requested it! Tell him you’re teaching Master Zack the whip. Which you are
doing, aren’t you Dad?” “Hummm, Oh yes,...yes! Definitely Son! Definitely!”
“Besides, what am I worried about! I paid to have you as my slave for the
weekend. You’re not officially his slave yet! I’ll just tell him the truth
that I’m going to get away for an hour or so with you and Zack. He doesn’t
need to know what for!
“He’ll know Dad! Not much gets by that Man! Better just be honest with him,
he’ll respect you a lot more.”
“I think you’re right young’un! I’ll take care of it! Leave it to me! Just be
ready when I give you the high sign!”
“Can’t wait Dad!”
“Neither can Zack! Thought he was gonna’ drop his load when I invited him and
told him you requested him be there! He asked, ‘Did he really say that?’!” I
assured him you did then he said, ‘I really think a lot of that slave! I would
love to watch.! He said he was pretty good with a Bull Whip too. You want me
to test him and if I think he’s good enough...... “Absolutely Dad! Look at my
dick!” He roared with laughter.
I said goodbye to Master Jim early the next morning. He wanted to get back to
check on Master Jeb. I really think he would have preferred to stay. There was
a party mood all day Saturday and people were in and out of the pool. Most
were running around in the nude. Even the Straight Folks were in the buff. The
Straight Men that were in my Ceremony were two fine looking specimens of the
masculine Male Sex.. A credit to their gender! They were not the least
intimidated by the Gays and one or the other had Button up in their laps all
day long. Because he was small and cute he could get away with a lot of shit
others couldn’t. He quickly learned to use it to his advantage. Clever boy! He
did look funny with just his balls hanging down. Now I knew why he wanted to
be smooth. The Straight Men he adored were less threatened and would show him
more attention because of not having a penis. He wanted it all gone! Don’t
blame him. I would have felt the same. Bull and Grainger were outstanding
looking Men.
Master Earl arrived and had said ‘Hello’ to Big Jim on the way up the road. He
was sorry to hear that Jeb was down. Being the official Dungeon Master, Big
Jim told him to bring me back to Mt. Washington so Beryl wouldn’t have to make
a special trip. Earl D. promised he would as he’d like to see Jeb for a few
minutes to see how he was doing. He arrived and all Hell broke loose. “It’s
Earl D. everyone!” He was instantly mobbed. Everyone knew our story by now!
They were glad to see him and for me as well. I walked to him and dropped to
my knees in front of him and went through our ritual. Everyone was going
Auwwwh! When he finally pulled be up to him and kissed me they all went nuts
whistling and cheering. They were good caring Folk! Damn he looked hot in his
leathers and high boots. Even the straight ladies made damn sure they got a
kiss from handsome Earl D. Several of the Straight Men gave him a kiss!
Grainger and Bull weren’t shy that way! It seemed even the Straights displayed
more affection in that group than any other group of people I ever
encountered.
I had left Josh Cochran’s cock with him to bring to the dessert to show Beryl
and Blaine. Master Earl could pack it away safely in his saddle bags and I was
worried carrying it in my bag it might get broken. Yoshie had found two blocks
of styrofoam. He and I scooped it out so that it fit tight inside and was
protected on all sides. Then we tied it together with heavy twine. Still I
wanted him to bring it. He did.
He took it into the bedroom and called Beryl, Blaine, and Master Zack in as
they had all seen it in block form at brunch that day. I carefully opened it
to show them. They were amazed!
“That’s a fucking work of Art!” Exclaimed Blaine. I told him I had the same
reaction. Master Zack held it and turned it over and over. Then asked,
“How in the hell did Yoshie’s Dad get it this highly polished?! It’s like
looking at a real cock inside a glass cock!” He was impressed .
Beryl said, “I hope we can find the Man some day! It would be ashamed to put
that much love into an object and not be able to present it to him.” He
exclaimed. “It’s fantastic!”
“I couldn’t believe it when they showed it to me!” Said Master Earl. I was a
wonderful idea of Beau’s and Yoshie’s to have it done that way! I never would
have thought to do it!”
“Neither would I Son.” Spoke Big Beryl.
“Is Master Sam and Yoshie coming out Dad?” I asked Big Beryl.
“Yoshie has early morning shift at the Hospital and won’t get off ‘till around
noon and then they’ll be out! Breed won’t be here! He’s somewhere up in Oregon
still riding with his buddy, Captain Nemo! He gives us a call every Sunday
morning to let us know he’s O.K.! He took a leave of absence from his job and
wants to spend a couple months on the road with this guy. If you want to know
what I think, I think he’s got something going with this guy and because the
Man is a hard charging Master doesn’t want us to know. I met him before I met
Blaine and he was one rough Motherfucker. Didn’t take shit off nobody. Wasn’t
a hell raiser just don’t fuck with him. When you got to know him a little he
was a quiet, decent Man. Wait’ll I tell Breed you’re here! He’ll wanna’ talk
to you for sure!” “I’d like to say ‘Hello’ to him too.” I told Master Beryl.
“Come guys! Let’s leave these two alone for a bit!” Master Beryl left with
Blaine and Master Zack.”
Master Earl was in good spirits. He seemed on top of the world. He held me and
just stood there for a moment. “I know it’s only been a week but I’ll be
honest! The weeks seem longer and longer without you. You remember that last
week before training you devoted to me and the weekend we spent together. That
was one of the happiest times of my life! I can’t wait for all this to be over
and settle down as Master and slave.”
“I’m glad to hear that from you! I feel the same except the way the Dungeon
Master has me going from before sunup to about eight o’clock in the evening,
the days go by fast”. I took my vest off for him to admire.
“Damn slave! You are popping out all over your body! You look fucking great
Son! He really knows what he’s doing! Do you want to keep it up after
training?”
“I’d thought about it! Depends on our scheduling. Maybe if he and I can keep
up the early morning routine. I wouldn’t want to be away from you in the
evenings. Have you noticed how big he’s getting.”
“He is indeed! When he took his clothes off and got in the pool that Sunday I
was impressed. He’s getting massive!” Responded Master Earl. I mentioned that
Big Beryl had said something about taking me for a brief ride later. He wanted
to show me something! “Yeah! He just wants to take you back to that barn! Oh
well, you’re his slave for the weekend. I’m lucky to get to see you at all!
Just tell him to leave some ass for me!”
“I will Master.” Then we both laughed.
“Are you afraid?”
“No Sir! I can’t wait!”
“I love you slave!”
“No any more than I love you Master!” Then we kissed.
“I’ll get the lotion ready. I brought some good stuff just in case!” He
laughed.
The day went by and everyone was having a good time. I noticed bikes coming
and going. I saw the two good looking Straight guys take off for a ride. Then
about six o’clock I got a signal from Big Beryl and ran to get on his bike. I
just had my chaps, boots and vest on. Master Zack was already on his bike and
winked at me as I climbed on in front of Big Beryl. He didn’t want me on the
back! He wanted me laying on top of him on the front. I wasn’t gonna’ argue!
Button waved to us as we went down the back way.
After a while we reached the deserted black top road that was never used
anymore and Big Beryl took off again like a bat out of hell. Master Zack kept
right up with him. Big Beryl was a good rider and so was Master Zack. I’ll bet
Beryl taught Zack! We turned off on the other dirt road and finally came upon
the deserted old barn. Except it wasn’t deserted today. There were two bikes
out to the side. Grainger’s and Bull’s! Big Beryl followed by Master Zack
pulled right into the center of the big barn and there they were naked as jay
birds having sex.
They didn’t get upset! They knew Beryl didn’t give a shit nor Zack.
You boys playing off on the girls ?” He asked with a wry smile on his face.
“Yes Sir Dad! You caught us!” Bull laughed. “ We just wanted to try it with
each other. See what you guys were all raving about. To tell you the God’s
honest truth! I could fall in love with Old Charlie here real fast!” “Same
here!” Said Charlie Grainger. “Bull fucked holy hell out of my ass this
afternoon and I loved it! Makes me wonder why we put up with those bitches!”
“It’s like your new slave there Dad! We both talked about sandwiching him in
between us!”“Well, you never know! Be careful what you wish for......!”
“What brings you guys up here Dad!”
“ We’re going to perform a little private Ceremony. You gentlemen are welcome
to stay and observe if you like. That all right with you Son?”
“I would be honored if these two respected Masters would stay!”
“How ‘bout it Bro. Wanna’ stick around.” Bull nodded yes to Grainger.
“Do we have to dress Dad!” Bull asked laughing.
“Hell no! You may wanna’ have you cock’s handy when you see our Ceremony.”
Big Beryl led me to he center of the barn to the overhead pulley. “Stand next
to me Son! You two pull your boots on and get your ass’s over here. They
quickly did as they were told and stood next to Master Zack. “O.K slave! We’re
ready for you to show your Masters respect! I kissed and cleaned Master
Beryl’s big boots and went through the ritual with him. He looked me in the
eye and asked, “You know I’m doing this ‘cause you’re my Son and I love you?”
“Yes Sir Dad!”
“Now show these Masters you’ve invited your homage and respect!”
“Thank you Master!”
“I licked and partially cleaned Master Zack’s boots next and got a roaring
hard on. When he ordered me up and called me slave. I noticed his cock inside
his Cod piece pants was peaking out the top. I stood up and he fell out
laughing and so did I. I had to hold on to old swinger to keep from poking him
in the stomach. He grabbed me and kissed me passionately. “Thank you for
asking me to come along. In a way your doing for me the same damn thing you
did for my love! I’ll enjoy this more that you’ll ever know and we’ll giggle
about it for years!” He laughed then said, “You have two more fine looking
Masters to pay homage to.
I started on Bull’s boots next and did a good job on them. They were really a
hot pair. After the ritual he ordered me up gruffly, “Get you ass up here
pronto slave and give me a kiss!” He snapped his fingers. He gave me one hell
of a kiss and worked his hands down to play with my Butt Plug. He got roaring
hard too. We were both drooling on each others bellies. He let me go and
turned to Grainger. “Look what the little shit did to me? Fuck Bro let’s stop
talking about it and rape the shit out of him some night!” They laughed.
I was working on Grainger’s boots when I felt his big hand on my Butt. He
slapped it pretty hard a couple of times and then pushed in on my Plug. After
my ritual I stood up and he was stiff too. He grabbed me and kissed me
passionately. Turned to Bull and said, “I’m with you Bro! We go for it!” Then
they both laughed again!.
They watched as Master Beryl tied me to the over head rope. He had driven
stakes in the ground and had short ropes tied to them. He attached them to
each ankle so my legs would be kept apart. He then pull me up so my feet were
barely touching the floor. He left me there. He sat an old Beer bottle on a
post in another section of the barn. He walked to his bike and got out his
eighteen foot ‘Blacksnake’ bull whip and shook it out. Grainger and Bull’s
eyes got really big.
“You gonna’ use that on the Kid Dad?”
“Yeah! He’s had it before. He knows what to expect.” He handed the whip to
Master Zack. “Let me see what you can do Son! That Beer bottle is
approximately seventeen to eighteen feet away. Let me see you knock it off.”
“You want me to knock it off or retrieve it Sir?”
“Retrieve it? What the hell are you talking about Son?” With that I heard
Master Zack take a practice swing with the whip to get its feel. The next shot
leaped out rapped around the bottle without damaging it! With one well timed
swift yank it flew back! Zack caught the bottle in his left hand, as if it was
something he had done every day of his life, and smiling handed it to Master
Beryl.
Beryl’s mouth hung open and the other two men were holding on to each other in
laugher. Big Beryl stuck out his hand to Zack and asked,
“Teach me that sometime Son?”
“Any time Dad!” They shook on it!
“O.K. I’ll go first and you can get him off. He’ll take about ten and then he
shoots.”
“What da’ ya’ mean he shoots Dad?” Bull asked. Big Beryl smiled and said.
“Just watch and learn Gentlemen!”
I heard the whip crack once. I knew he took two warm up swings. I heard the
second and knew the next one was for me. I braced myself and positioned my ass
in the air for him.
Kracckk! I lunged forward! It was a damn good first lick. One Sir! Thank you
Master!
Kracckk! “Two Sir! Thank you Master Beryl.”
Kawhack! “Three Sir! Thank you Sir . Thank you.”
Kathwack! “Four Sir! Thank you Master! Thank you!”
Kawwaacck! “Five Sir! Oh! That was a damn good one Sir! Thank you Sir! I
Yelled.”
He came to me and rubbed my ass gently. Grainger and Bull stood in front and
to the side of me both with roaring hard ons. “Can we give him a Kiss Dad?”
“Sure, he’d appreciate that about now! They both kissed me gently and told me
they were amazed and proud to be a part of this Ceremony. Big Beryl came
around front and I could feel Master Zack’s hand gently caress my ass and play
with my plug a bit. Big Beryl kissed me gently and said to me, “It’s better
this time, isn’t it slave!” “Yes Sir! I love you Master Beryl!” He hugged and
kissed me again, “I love you too Son! Now I’m giving Master Zack the honor of
getting you off! You’d like that wouldn’t you?” “You been reading my mail
again Dad?” He just howled. Zack’s hand had stopped all the pain.
He came around front and held me, kissed me again passionately, and spoke,
“You know this is gonna’ bond us tight slave! You will forever be my slave in
my heart, you know that don’t you slave?!”
“I couldn’t wish for a better Master and friend Master Zack! Take me to be
your slave I will serve you with pride in my heart!” I knew that he understood
I was meant for another but he wanted this closeness with me and I damn sure
wanted it with him! He had become one hot fucker to me! He kissed me again
quickly and whispered before he walked back to the other Men, “I take two warm
up strokes!” I thanked him for that!
I heard his two warm up strokes and knew the next one was mine.
Karraack! Oh God! Six Sir! Thank you Master Zack! That was a good one Sir! He
was better than Big Beryl and I could feel it.
Kaarracck! Seven Sir! Good one Master Zack! Thank you Sir!
Krraacckk! Eight Sir! Another good one Sir! Thank you Master Zack!
Krraaackkk! Nine Sir! Oh Sir! I can’t hold it any longer.......
Krraacccckk! I yelled Ten Sir as I shot six feet into the air. “ANOTHER PLEASE
MASTER ZACK!!”
Krraccckkk! Aauuugggh! I shot another spurt three feet into the air. Thank you
Master Zack . ONE MORE PLEASE!
KKAARRAACK! It was a damn good hit and I emptied the rest on the ground.
I begged for one more from Master Zack. He looked at Beryl and he nodded to
Zack.
KKRRAACCKK!! It lifted me off my feet and I spurted more! From where I don’t
know.
They all three were on me holding me. Untiing me.
“Now do you understand ‘shooting’ Gentlemen?”
“Fucking unbelievable!” Said Bull “If you’d told me it was possible I would
have called you a liar. Yet I witnessed it for myself. You can’t tell anybody
about this! They simply won’t believe it! Right Grainger!” Grainger was
speechless. Just shook his head.
We’re not through yet. Dad and Master Zack helped me to Dad’s bike and I
straddled the banana seat. Big Beryl popped my Plug out and wiped me with a
tower he brought along. With no Ceremony he popped off his Cod piece and was
rock hard he spit in his hand and lubed his rod stroking it as he did. Then in
one swift stroke he was in me.
I lay back on the seat and hung my head back and pulled Master Zack to me and
licked his Cod piece.
“What are you waiting for Son an engraved invitation?” Master Zack popped off
his Cod piece from his leather pants and let his handsome cock and balls out
on my face. I kissed his balls and cock then ask if I might take it.
“Permission granted slave!” He got even harder as I took him all the way down
my throat. I pulled him into me with my hands pulling on his Butt.
“Put you hand under his neck Son to support him and then fuck him just like
I’m gonna’ do!” Master Zack put his hand under my head and found it was a good
way to stabilize his stroke into to my throat. He took it slow at first then
saw I wanted it hard and begin to give it too me! I could feel Dad plowing my
red earth in the lower forty good and strong and knew the Old Man wasn’t
gonna’ take too long. Grainger and Bull were on opposite sides of the bike
watching and pounding their meat getting near exploding.
Master Zack was almost there too when I felt Big Beryl’s flow start and he
yelled to me ,“GET IT SLAVE! I KNOW YOU HAVE ONE MORE IN THERE! I’m not gonna’
stop fucking you until you DO! I shot and felt one final lunge from Master
Zack as he emptied into my stomach He stopped and just rested with it all the
way down my throat as Grainger and Bull moved in closer to empty their come
heavy balls on my chest and face.
Master Zack was so far down my throat his low hanging balls were resting in my
eyes covering my nose and I could smell his maleness and his sexual pheromones
as he lay resting pumping the last of his fluids down my throat.
“I better pull out slave I gotta’ piss bad! I reached up and behind his ass
and held him locked into my throat.
“Give it to him Son! He wants it! From you it will be an honor! Look at the
slave’s dick!” It was standing straight up again. I held Master Zach even
tighter to impress him I wanted it in the worst way.
I felt his flow begin and he didn’t stop. It was far enough down my throat
that I didn’t have to swallow nor would I have a gag response. Big Beryl’s
cock was still soaking way up in my ass. He rubbed my belly as Master Zack
filled it with his hot piss!
“Damn Grainger look at that! If you could learn to do that I’d dump that bitch
and Marry you tomorrow! Hell, he’s filling his belly up! Holy shit, that’s
hot!” Master Beryl continued to rub my belly as Master Zack finished. I still
held him tight!
“He knows you’ve got a couple squirts left Zack and he doesn’t intend to let
you waste ‘em!” Master Zack rubbed my head gently.
“He’s right! There..........he just got some more! I might
have...........yeah......awwwwwh! That’s so fine a feeling your hot piss going
down a slave’s throat that not only knows how to take a Man’s piss but enjoys
it too! Your top slave in my book slave!” I patted him on both cheeks and he
slowly with drew allowing me to suck the last drops of piss and clean him at
the same time. I even got one final squirt to taste and he was strong. A
strong Man flavor that made me know I was gonna’ want more of him.
The way he enjoyed it I knew it was a priority to talk to Button about. I was
going to teach that little slave to take this Man’s piss or know the reason
why.
Slowly Master Zak pulled out and leaned over and kissed me upside down. Hot!
Big Beryl started to withdraw Big Cecil and I didn’t want him to
“That’s one none of us will forget any time soon!”
“You got any piss in you Bull?”
“Yeah ! I need to piss right now! What of it!”
“I’m calling your bluff Motherfucker! Right here in front of God and members
of our Family. I may not take it as well as the Kid! I’ll drink as much of you
as I can to see if you mean what you say or if you’re just shooting your
Goddamn mouth off.”
“On your knees slave! ‘Cause if you take me you **will** be my slave! Make
_no_ mistake about your decision. We’ll ride back to camp and dump those
bitches as fast as we can so’s not to ‘cause too much hassle to Dad here. We
come back to Zack’s and Dad here does a Ceremony and you become my slave for
life. Mean time you move in with me as soon as I kick out my old lady! Take it
of leave it Son! That’s the way it’s gonna’ be!”
Grainger hit his knees and managed to get Bull’s thick cock way down his
throat as he had seen me do. He gaged a couple of times but Bull encouraged
him and talked gentle to him and he took more until he was past the gag and
swallow zone. We watched as he placed his hands on Bulls Butt and gently
squeezed.
“Here it comes Sweet Baby! You’re no longer my Bro anymore Charlie, you’re now
my slave for life!” And we could see the flow began. Grainger took all of
Bull! Filled his gut more full than mine. He looked pregnant. When Bull got
the last several squirts out he lovingly rubbed Grainger’s head and slowly
pulled out to his mouth!”
“Gonna’ give you a little to taste your Old Man, your new Master on our ride
back!”
He pissed just a little more into Grainger’s mouth and you could see Charlie’s
surprise that the taste wasn’t as bad as he thought and then began to suck
Bull for more.”
“Alright! Just a little more slave!” He got it and enjoyed it! Then Bull
instructed Grainger! “Alright slave, show your new Master your homage and
respect! You know the drill!” Grainger kissed and licked and tried as best he
could to clean Bull’s big boots and found Bull’s hand waiting. Grainger gently
and lovingly kissed the back and put it to his forehead.
“Rise my new slave and show your new Master your love for him!” Damn! Charlie
was in his arms in a heartbeat and they kissed a kiss that almost set the damn
barn on fire. Big Beryl said he thought he was gonna’ have to throw a bucket
of water on ‘em!
“Who are we kidding Bull! I want you and you want me! Let’s quit saying we’re
gonna’ do it. I’ll be your slave. You know it!” Bull grabbed Grainger again
and kissed him hard.
“I was just wanted to hear those words from you slave!” He kissed him again
hard. Big Beryl had this wry smile on his face.
“Oh shut up Dad!” Bull laughed.
“Didn’t say a word Gentlemen!”
“You didn’t have to! Your mind was shouting it at us. Give us your blessing
Dad. On your knees slave!” He snapped his fingers and Grainger was on his
knees in front of the Old Man, Bull was on his knees beside him!
Beryl placed a hand on each of their heads and spoke! Charlie and Bull. You
have my blessing on your union. You have a strong love for each other! Don’t
deny it any longer! Celebrate it and live in peace as Master and slave!” Bull
snapped his fingers at Charlie and spoke, “Show the head of our Family your
homage and respect slave, now!”
Charlie kissed and licked Master Beryl’s boots and found his hand waiting.
Charlie kissed the back of it with passion and held it to his forehead. He had
a roaring hard on and had to pull it out of the way to hug and kiss Master
Beryl.
Then they both hugged and thanked him. They shook hands with Zack and
complemented him on his whip work. I was cleaning myself up when Dad turned to
me and asked,
“You all right Son?”
“Oh Dad!” I grabbed and hugged him! “It was perfect! Thanks! Remind me to give
you both those pennies. It was worth every cent!” He roared with laughter
knowing what I meant but it came out wrong!
Grainger and Bull were all over me hugging and kissing. Then my new Master
walked up and I fell to my knees and kissed his boots again. After the ritual
and he was holding me I thanked him and thanked him. “I’m so proud you
consider me your extended slave Master Zack and am really looking forward to
help serve you with Button. I have some things to share with you that he and I
discussed last evening. With your permission.
“Granted slave!” I looked at him and winked as my old dick that had just been
drained twice sprang to attention again! He smiled and just shook his head. I
told him what Button and I had talked about and he listened intently. He told
me he knew that Button had trouble opening up to him and maybe I could be a
bridge. He was thrilled at the prospect of Button watching me pleasure him.
I’ll talk to him too and tell him not to feel left out ‘cause he’ll be right
there watching. “I don’t think he will Master Zack! He loves both of us so
much that he will be pleased to see us together!” I knew it was going to work
out fine.”
“Gentlemen, slaves!” Bull addressed us . “So there isn’t a lot of strained
feelings in camp tonight, we have decided not to tell our women until we get
back. We know you will be discreet!” We agreed.
“By the same token, not a word about what you’ve witnessed here today!” Said
Big Beryl.. “That’s easy enough.” said Grainger “Nobody would believe us
anyway!”They laughed. We all climbed back on our bikes, me in front of Big
Beryl, and headed back. I was glad.
The Sun was going down and it was getting cooler. Dad pulled over for a minute
and told me to reach in his saddle bag. He had one of those small airline
blankets he threw around my front and we took off again. Thoughtful Old Cuss!
My ass didn’t hurt as much as the first time. It stung a little but not bad.
Master Zack really laid on some good licks. They felt good. I was happy for
Button! I knew from the look on Master Zack’s face he was going to get fucked
so hard tonight his eyeballs would take a week to refocus.
Master Earl was there to greet us when we got back. I wrapped the small
blanket around my waist feigning chilliness. Master Earl followed me into the
bedroom.
“Let me see!” I dropped the blanket. “It’s not so bad!” He laughed.“It was
worse the first time!”
“Can we sit in the hot water Master?”
“Don’t see why not slave, the sulphur in the water might sting a bit but it’s
a natural healing property. Should be good for you. Take off your leathers and
I’ll shuck mine off. No! I don’t think you should try to take my boots off.
I’ll make do! Grab us a couple of towels out of the bath there.”
I had my leathers off and got the towels for us wrapping mine around my waist.
No one was in the hot pool. Most were in the regular pool. Master Earl laughed
as I eased my ass down into the water. Wouldn’t you know, along comes Big
Beryl and Blaine, Master Zack and Button, Grainger and Bull all for the hot
water. I know they didn’t see us get in. No one was around. Must be
telepathic. They all looked at each other and fell out laughing. I did too.
Master Earl didn’t get the joke.
I explained the details later to him and he laughed his ass off about Grainger
and Bull. Said he’d known them for years and they always rode together with
their ladies. Never thought anything would ever go on between them. They were
both so Macho and straight acting. Although they were tolerant to a fault with
their Gay Brothers and would come to their aid in a second if they were in
trouble. They all got in with us. There was room for all. Master Zack sat next
to me and Button next to him. Beryl was next to Master Earl.
“You’re going to have yourself one hell of a slave there Earl D.!”Stated Big
Beryl.
“I agreed wholeheartedly!” Said Master Zack to him.
“You are one hell of a lucky Man!” Spoke Grainger.
“What can I add except to say I’m happy for you! I’d trade you that cunt of
mine for him in a New York minute! I’d even bend over for you and squeal like
a pig!”Laughed Bull.
“Thank you Gentlemen! I know you mean all that in the best possible way! I
think I’m pretty lucky too. I just hope his ass heals for my weekend with him
next.” They all fell out laughing again. Master Zack reached up and patted the
back of my head.
“I really enjoyed the ride with you and Beryl slave! Button and I are looking
forward to you and your Master visiting with us in Joshua Tree. These Guys
should be there too. You Guys still coming to our place that weekend?!”
“Try and keep us away!”Laughed Bull. “We’ll be a lot less uptight then I
promise you. Ain’t that right slave?”
“Yes Master Bull!” Grainger replied to him. Bull reached over and kissed him
behind his neck. Then relaxed and grabbed his new slave’s dick under the
water.
“You Guy’s have something you want to share with me?” Asked Master Earl
innocently. “Yeah!” Bull said, “Grainger became my slave today! I love him and
we’re dumping the broads. He’s a much better fuck than they are anyway! I
figure in about six months I can train him to be the slave I won’t him to be.”
“Don’t know that it’ll take six months Son!” Said Big Beryl “ The way he looks
at you I’d say you have a pretty damn good start. That Man would eat your shit
just to find out where it came from! No offense Grainger! That was suppose to
be a compliment! I can see it in his eyes.”
Charlie Grainger a handsome, masculine Man himself responded to Big Beryl.
“None taken Dad! When you’re right! You’re right! I would indeed! I didn’t
realize it until the night of Beau’s Ceremony. I became so jealous of Beau
laying under that leather sheet. I wanted it to be me and have Bull buy me!
Didn’t tell him though until after he’d fucked me up one side of that barn and
down the other. I could tell when he kissed me he loved me. We just wouldn’t
admit it to each other until............ well, you know!”
Bull reached over and kissed him again behind the ear and spoke softly to him
but loud enough for us to hear,
“You gonna’ be Big Bull’s little pussy-ass slave boy Bro.?”
“That and what ever else you want me to be Master!”
“What if I want you to have a cunt like Blaine’s?”
“To be your slave means I don’t have much say in the matter, now does it?! If
you want me that way, do it! Blaine seems to enjoy the hell out of his! As
long as I can have you in one hole or the other and serve you I don’t give a
big rats ass what you choose to do with me! I’m tired of putting up a front
with those bitches I just want to be with you. I trust you to do the right
thing when I become your slave. If that’s the price I have to pay to be with
you I’ll pay it!”
“Now! Now Bro! Let’s take one step at a time Darlin’, what say” Bull backed
off soothing over his ‘Bull of the woods’ attitude.
“You know I love you Charlie! I’m not a bad ass and you know it! Haven’t I
always been good to you?”
“Yes Master Bull!”
“Well, I’ve just started to be good to you my slave. You’re gonna’ see just
how good Old Bull can be!” They kissed a quick peck.
“Ah! Ain’t love grand! Sighed Big Beryl. We all broke up ‘cause we’ve all been
there at one time or other. They had just discovered each other’s love! They
had been hopelessly in love with each other for years! Never spoke the words
until today! It was like watching a supernova in a far away galaxy! An
explosion of love like their’s doesn’t happen too often.
“Well, I’m happy for you Guys. Congratulations!” Master Earl stuck his hand
out and they both shook it! I thought for sure they were gonna’start making
out right there but they calmed down and cooled it. I looked over to my left
and Button was laying in Master Zack’s arms and Zack was stroking and petting
him whispering little things to make him giggle. I hoped they were nasty!
Button deserved a good fucking tonight. He got it too!
“Will you give us a Ceremony Dad at Zack’s, the weekend that Beau is scheduled
to visit, in front of the Family, after we dump the broads?!”
“Be happy to Gentlemen! Being in this family now for almost twelve years it’s
gonna’ be a shock to a lot of folks. You might have to take some good natured
ribbing.”
“Bring it on! We both deserve it for letting this go on between us for that
many years and never doing anything about! We deserve what we get! Ain’t that
right sweetheart!” Said Bull.
“I agree with my Master!”said Charlie.
“A good slave would!” Laughed Big Beryl.
It was early evening and Master Sam and Yoshie finally pulled up. Yoshie had
to work over as they had a rush in the ER and asked him to stay several more
hours. We were all glad to see them. Some other folks were seeing to Dinner
for everyone. Hot Dog and hamburgers, good hot German Potato Salad , Chips and
Dips of all kinds. It was a treat. Like camping out. Everyone had a good time.
The hot water helped my ass a lot and I asked Master Earl if we could get back
in after we ate. He agreed. We got back in the water and were joined this time
by Master Sam and Yoshie.
“Stand up salve!” Sam ordered me. I stood immediately facing him.
“Turn around slowly slave.” I did and heard him and Yoshie start laughing.
“The Old Man got you again! How funny!”
“I asked him for it Master Sam!” He stopped laughing and just looked at me and
shook his head then said thoughtfully,
“You know slave, that may be good for you! If you can’t slay your Dragon’s one
way have them beat out of you. No! No! I’m not being nasty! I’m dead serious.
It may be a way you need to get rid of a lot of baggage!”
“I always feel better for days afterward Master Sam! So perhaps you hit on
something!”
“There’s something to that Sam.” continued Master Earl “I remember Wes use to
beg me to take him to the Dungeon and beat his ass when his Demon’s were
getting to close.
Straighten him right out for a couple of weeks or more. He would be the
sweetest little slave boy. The closest he could ever get to letting me know he
truly loved me! Then since he was killed he has showered a lot of love on me.”
Master Earl left it at that. We all knew what he meant.
The hot water was doing my ass a lot of good. I was tired and wanted to get to
bed early but didn’t want to interrupt my Master’s good time . I lay in his
arms and he was laying almost straight out so I was sort of laying in between
his legs with my head on his hairy chest.
He was stroking and petting me. It felt so good. But I started to go to sleep.
I didn’t want to go to sleep I wanted to serve him. I had neglected him the
greater part of the afternoon for my selfish needs, I wanted to take care of
him. The next thing I knew I was being carried by Big Beryl into our bedroom
and deposited on our bed. Master Earl proceeded to dry me off and I tried to
wake up. I told him I wanted to pleasure him. I didn’t want to sleep!
“Shhhuuu...calm down! That’s an order slave!” I calmed right down. That Man
meant business. “I’ll tear off a piece in the morning! Let’s get some rest.
I’m tired too.
He pulled me to his arms and I don’t remember anything until he was knocking
at my back door with his big snake the next morning.
“Let me run to the shower a minute Master Please!” He excused me and I
returned as quickly as possible, clean! I got his big snake slathered up with
my spit and he took me hard. Damn he felt good inside me. I could use a good
comfortable ride on my Cadillac this morning. He didn’t disappoint me. He
never did! He hit his just before I got mine and emptied himself in to my gut
as my ass chewed on his big dick!
I lay there in his arms thanking him for the good fucking and how much I
appreciated having his seed up inside me. We got up and he dressed. He had me
put on my Cod piece leathers with the piece removed and the ass opened. He
plugged my ass for the day. Put his collar on me and leash and led me to the
kitchen. A number of folks were up having coffee. Blaine was busy in the
kitchen. He handed us each a cup of coffee but before I drank I kneeled in
front of Big Beryl and kissed his boots. He allowed me to go through the
ritual and then hugged and kissed me.
He whispered to me, “You keep those pennies to remind you of a wonderful
afternoon with your Old Dad!”
“Thanks Master, I will! It was special and I just wanted to thank you again.
It was very special. Master Zack is a wizard with the whip!”
“Tell me! I’m going to take lessons from that boy! You didn’t see what he did
with a Beer bottle! I couldn’t believe his mastery of the whip. Felt good
then?”
“Both of you were great!” He rubbed my ass and it really wasn’t too sore.
“That feels good Dad!
Now, I wanna’ help Blaine today! Please!”
“Get your ass in there then!” He patted me on the ass again as I went.
“I asked Master Earl if he minded if I helped Blaine. He gave his permission!”
“O.K. I’m reporting for KP duty Lieutenant Kelley. What’s my assignment?”
“Right Private, slave, hero, honey! Pick one! Make another urn of coffee,
follow the instructions on the side and hit the on switch. I got busy doing
that when the General arrived.
General Oscar! I even called him that and he just giggled. Billy was with him
and Master Bert. We all exchanged greeting! They ran off to the bed room and
returned in a few minutes without a stitch on.
“Now you Guys are in uniform!” I joked with them. The phone rang and Big Beryl
picked it up. Everyone got quite so he could hear. Oscar sized up the progress
so far in the kitchen and laid out his plan of attack. I was just about to
flip the switch on the coffee urn when I heard Big Beryl say ,
“Yeah! He’s here!......Yeah! Sure! You can talk to him!....He wants to talk to
you too! Let me get him! It’s Breed and he wants to talk to you. He handed me
the phone.
“Hello Master Breed”
“Please Beau, just Breed!
“How are you Brother!”
“You don’t know how good it is to hear you call me that. Beau I think I’m
falling in love!” “That’s wonderful Bro! Who’s the lucky slave?”
“He isn’t a slave Beau!...........” Silence
“Bro! Don’t you know that’s all right with us? We’re not gonna’ stop loving
you!”
“I knew you’d say that! I just wanted to hear it from you! He’s a wonderful
Man Beau and if he’ll have me I want to be his slave. Will you help me?”
“Anyway I can Bro! You know that without asking!”
“He remembers you from Nam Beau. You patched him up too. Went through a lot of
shit for him he said! He’s dying to see you again! We’re gonna’ be on the road
a while longer but we should be back in about two weeks. He wanted to cut our
trip short just to come back and thank you for saving his life. I love him
Beau! He a beautiful Man, a wonderful human being and I want to serve him, as
his slave, for the rest of my life! I never could have considered this if it
hadn’t of been for you Bro! Meeting you again and showing me the dignity that
can come from serving another Man really did a number on me Sweetheart!”
“I’m glad Bro. you know that! What’s his name ?”
“Everyone calls him Captain Nemo. He gave himself that name for what it means
it Latin! Nothing or Zero! His real name is Joshua Cochran.”
**End Part XVII~
Waddie Greywolf**
[email protected]
* * * |
beautiful blonde ballbreaker | TESTICLES | i meet a beautiful blonde who loves destroying men\'s balls | One Friday evening I was out clubbing when I met the woman who would change my
life drastically The club I entered was noisy and packed and the music was
loud. After standing to the side and eyeing the females dancing and drinking ,
I decided to find a seat and relax .
The place was packed as I said and I finally pushed my way past crowded tables
to a padded bench which stretched along a wall behind some tables . I found a
spot, sat and began to sip my drink when I noticed that I had sat next to a
lovely woman with short blonde hair and the whitest skin. She was beautiful -
wearing all black –her sheer top revealed the back bra underneath holding
large breasts and her beautiful white legs showed beyond her black min-skirt
she had the loveliest pale white skin I had ever seen.
As I looked at her, she turned and looked into my eyes and smiled and I knew
was gone. She was one of those incredibly sexy baby faced blondes that any man
would sacrifice his left nut for. Little did I know then how many men had
already lost both their balls to this sweet innocent looking beautiful blonde
emasculator.
We began talking and I was entirely enthralled. She seemed to be enjoying the
conversation and I couldn't believe my good fortune. As we talked I noticed
the man sitting on the other side of her trying to get her attention, taking
hold her arm and whispering in her ear At one point I saw her eyes widen and
she smiled at something he said.
"Excuse me" she said and turned toward this man. She began to talk to him and
even leaned closer to him with her back toward me. At one point I saw her put
her hand in his lap, unzip his fly and reach inside. I was disappointed to put
it mildly. I figured I had lost her for good.
While I nursed my drink and wallowed in my disappointment I could feel her arm
moving back and forth as she apparently played with the other man's genitals.
If only it could have been me! I realized then that I still had the tremendous
erection I got when she first looked into my eyes.
After a bit I suddenly felt her elbow jab sharply into my side and looked to
see what was going on. I leaned forward as felt her elbow again shoot back
into my side and, looking around her to the man on the other side I was amazed
to see she had expertly gotten her fingers around the man's balls and was
yanking on them with great force.
I could see his balls in her hand bright red and swollen as she yanked his
scrotum a good 6 inches out from their base. She had managed a unique grip,
evidently slipping her had behind and beneath his ball bag, and it appeared
that she had two fingers closed on either side of his scrotum at the base with
her thumb going over the top of his balls and locked between her fingers so
his balls were separated and compressed inside the sack itself. I was to
become all too familiar with this grip in time.
With each powerful yank on his balls the man's body arched forward and I could
see his scrotum stretched out from his body a distance I would have thought in
possible. This petite sexy blonde was obviously stronger than she looked. Over
the noise of the club I could hear the poor man let out a deep and agonized
grunt as his head was thrown back and his eyes were rolling back. I heard him
begin to beg her "please please stop - no more please - oh my balls oh my
balls oh my balls!" But she paid his pleas no mind and continued to yank on
his nuts with incredible force and he continued to beg her to stop, repeating
the plaintive "oh my balls oh my balls oh my balls" over and over as this
merciless blonde kept at his tortured balls.
For her part, this sexy blonde seemed to be enjoying all this immensely, i
could hear her commenting after each pull things like "how's that?" "feel
good?" . Finally the man passed out and slumped off to the side down on the
bench, apparently unconscious. She finally stopped yanking his testicles but
she did not let go of them, not yet.
Now she began to squeeze his ball bag violently, twisting and mashing them. It
was then I noticed that incredibly his penis had flopped out of his pants and
was amazingly erect even though he was out cold! With each violent squeeze of
her hand a long jet of sperm shot out of his dick, though it didn't look white
like it should have, but pinkish. As she continued to squeeze his nuts
violently his body would convulse and his dick would squirt out another long
jet of pinkish cum. I'd never seen so much cum –it didn't seem possible!
This lovely girl seemed to be totally into what she was doing as she went at
it with workman-like dedication, determined to completely mash the poor mans
balls until there was nothing s left. I noticed then that his cum had turned
entirely red but he was still spurting out an incredible amount of material
allover his shirt-front and even occasionally on his face, when she squeezed
them particularly hard.
Finally his dick went soft and the blonde stopped crushing his ball bag,
evidently feeling nothing solid left, so there was no more she could do to
him. The man's body fell off the bench when she let go of his nuts and he lay
unconscious on the floor twitching as the agony of his ruined balls coursed
thru his body. He lay on the floor a bloody sticky mess covered with cum and
the crushed material of his testicles that had been forced out thru his dick
by this lovely ball destroying blonde.
She then turned back to me breathing heavily from her exertions and apologized
for the interruption "I don't like inconsiderate men –especially when they
make rude comments" " I can see that -remind me never to be inconsiderate or
rude to you!"
She smiled and said "don't worry I will" "You destroyed his testicles – I hope
he survives. Maybe someone should call an ambulance" I told her "He doen't
deserve to live, just let him lie there like the piece of garbage that he is -
and I can tell you for sure his balls are gone" Just then we heard an awful
rattling groan come form the man still lying unconscious on the floor As I
looked over I saw his balls had swollen to an enormous size – as big as a
cantalope – and they were the wrong color - a horribly discolored black and
blue. She followed my gaze and seeing his hugely swollen balls she swung her
body over and gave his now giant ballbag several vicious kicks with her
sharply pointed high heel pumps. His body convulsed violently as his swollen
bag rebounded with each kick I was amazed at this sweet blondes viciousness.
"See," she said, "he'still alive" And with that she turned and kicked him
several more times in the balls until his wretch ruined ballsack swelled even
larger – to the size of a volley ball!- and his body convulsed as a terrible
rattling sound came out of his throat.
As she turned back to me I observed to her that I was amazed he seemed to be
enjoying his balls being crushed for part of the time as he was erect and
ejaculating. "Oh he was too out of it to enjoy anything she replied, it's just
something that happens to men when their balls are being destroyed -they spurt
out everything - their cum, blood, and their liquefied testicles – one last
attempt I quess to procreate while they are being neutered" I wondered at the
time how she knew that but only said "I didn't know that" "Now you do" she
smiled.
To be continued
* * * |
Fly Boy | GAY, PENECTOMY, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION | A flight attendant meets an unusual passenger and learns the real meaning of "Something Special in the Air" | My name is Paul Urban and I am a flight attendant for a major
"American" Airline. I fly the European routes in the summer and
the Hawaii flights in the winter. My most memorable flight
happened about a year ago. This is my story. I was strapped into
my jumpseat ready for takeoff when I saw him out of the corner of
my eye. The first class cabin was only about half full and most of
the passengers were stuffy CEO's and demanding rich bitch
socialites who really enjoyed treating male flight attendants like
their personal slaves. But todays flight from Paris to Chicago
just might be a bit different. In the last row of first class sat
one of the most beautiful men I had ever seen. Dressed in a tight
black t-shirt and jeans he didn't look like the usual first class
passenger, but he did look hot. I checked the manifest and saw
that he was an upgrade. His name was Barry Flynn. It looks like
Alexander did me another favor at the gate in giving this stud a
first class seat. I will have to give him a special thank you on
my next trip to Paris.
As soon as the plane was in the air I got out of my seat to prepare
the service. The food and beverage service in first class overseas
is great and can take a couple hours but I had it all done and
cleared in an hour on this flight. The FA's in coach were all busy
with their service so I had a bit of time before they would come up
to bother me. I went back to Barry's row and started to make small
talk. You know the usual, bla...bla...bla... Were you on
vacation, business, whatever. I didn't usually try to pick up
passengers but there was such a calm peaceful beauty about this man
that I had to get to know him better. We sat and chatted and I
plied him with our best wine for hours. He said he had been in
Paris for some cosmetic surgery. I found that amazing because I
saw no indication of any recent surgery and believe me I have seen
some old cows come through after their facelifts and nose jobs and
I can spot them a mile away. Barry exused himself to use the
restroom and although I was tempted to follow I thought better of
it and freshened the drinks of my other neglected passengers. When
he returned to his seat I looked him over pretty good and was
suprised to see that in spite of the rather perfect package and
tight jeans there wasn't much of a basket showing. By this time he
was a bit drunk and our conversation and flirting had become a bit
more daring. I finally asked him what kind of surgery he had and
he didn't say a word. He just took my hand and pulled it to his
crotch. There was nothing there. I was sure he was just pulling
my leg and he had just tucked everything between his legs. He said
that he was something called a "nullo". I had never heard the word
before and Barry explained that he was part of a small but growing
group of men who desired the complete removal of all genitalia. I
could not believe he was being so open about this. I am sure the
look on my face said nothing but complete shock, but my throbbing
cock told another story. I couldn't believe that I was so turned
on by this. We talked for the rest of the trip. He had been
looking for a doctor to do this since he turned 18 ten years ago.
He finally located a clinic outside Paris which usually did sexual
reassignment but was branching out into this new field. Barry said
he had desired castration since he was about 12 and even years of
therapy didn't get rid of the desires. He finally decided that he
was going to go for it no matter the consequences. The surgery was
done about 6 weeks ago and he had spent his recovery time in the
French countryside. The fasten seat belt sign came on and I had to
prepare the cabin for landing. I never lost my erection the rest
of the flight. I couldn't believe how I felt. When the plane
landed I invited Barry to come to my apartment for a drink as I
didn't fly again for two days. I felt like I was still flying when
he said yes.
We didn't waste much time getting undressed once we arrived at my
apartment. I explored every inch of his smooth hairless crotch and
let my tongue linger in its exploration of his new little pisshole
half way between where his cock and balls had been and his firm
tight ass. I had never experienced such orgasms again and again as
he sucked my cock and I fucked his tight ass. We fell asleep
exausted in each others arms and when I awoke in the morning I was
sure that I didn't want to let this one go. But strange desires
were stirring in me too. I had fantasies of my own but nothing
this severe or permanent but I couldn't get it out of my mind. As
it turned out Barry lived just a few blocks from my apartment and
we got together about once a week when I wasn't flying. I slowly
began to realize that I wasn't just attracted to Barry I wanted to
be like him. With much prodding on my part Barry finally relented
and gave me the info on the clinic. I arranged to take all my
vacation at once and gave away a few more trips so that I could
have six weeks off at once. I had saved up enough money for both
the surgery and to pay all my bills for this extended stay in
France. I wanted Barry to be with me so I arranged for a buddy
pass for him and we took off for Paris. I wanted to be awake for
the entire procedure but the Doctor said that as extensive as this
surgery is a local would not be enough and that I would have to be
out under a general. When I awoke Barry was holding my hand. I
felt no pain but just a tightness in my crotch. I guess the pain
medication was working and I was in and out of sleep for the next
two days. The third day I was sore but able to get up and get a
good look at my new self. I was quite a sight with a rubber
catheter tube dangling from bandages straight down between my
legs. I healed rather quickly and still had 3 weeks to explore the
beauty of Paris before we had to return home to Chicago.
We sat in first class on the way home and Neil one of my friends
from home was our flight attendant. After he finished the service
he came back and sat on the arm of my seat. "So what did you do on
your vacation" he asked. I did't say a word, I just took his hand
and..... |
Lost Cock | STRAIGHT | A man finds out that there are many ways to lose your cock. Not a story for minors. | ` Authors Note: This story, unlike so many other erotic stories, is based on
truth, a reality, non-fiction; something that was and is and is still going
on. Yeah, it happened. It did, and while the names have sure been changed to
protect the guilty and I didn't exactly live it myself mind you, still, the
story is real enough and unfortunately, it's not even all that unique. No-sir-
ree it's not. In fact, for more than one man on this planet, it's not even
that unusual even. Lots of men have lost their cocks. Now, I know what you're
thinking, and while your thoughts are working along the right lines, they
probably aren't going where this story is. `
Sure, I know and you know that there are lots of ways that unfortunate men
have lost their penises. Historically, men have had their pricks surgically
removed, chopped off, ripped off, burned off, pulled off, shot off, and even
perhaps, bitten off. But there is another way it has been done. It's not as
messy, and for some of you who read with the critical eye, you might not even
say in these cases that it has been done at all. Well, you would be wrong. The
end result is almost the same, and just as devastating, at least to the man
whose cock has been taken from him.
Lost Cock
I am dripping wet, fresh from the shower. I think of the beautiful blond that
was making the moves at me an hour ago, after my sales presentation, and how I
had to walk away from her as if she was nothing. Yeah, even as she begged me
to come to her room, I had to shake my head and tell her no. Hell, I couldn't
even look at her tits, even though she was flaunting them. Shit. Yeah, I'm
dripping, in more ways than one, and yet the cold shower did nothing to reduce
my frustration. I stare down at my cock and the clear polycarbonate tube that
surrounds it. The fucking thing's even got a name. It's called "The Curve",
and it holds my cock in a clear prison, encased completely and unreachable.
Made in Henderson, Nevada, there is even a website dedicated to it
(http://www.thecurve2000.com/prod02.htm) and it is one of the cruelest devices
in the world.
I can see it, plain as day, and the little slits on the side and the end have
allowed the shower water to bath it and to keep it clean. The end is dripping,
the way it always does, the little bead of pre-ejaculatory fluid oozing out
the tip, an almost constant drip now after these many months when I have
longed to touch it but have been unable to do so. As I think about the woman
and stare at my cock it starts to grow to the full length of the tube, and as
I watch my purple uncircumcised end smashes once again up against the hard
plastic end, which causes me to cringe and limits any further erection the way
it always does.
I want to cry, and I allow myself to think about what has brought me to this
misery. I am forty-one years old, with two teenage boys for son's and a
wonderful Irish Catholic wife that is as beautiful as any woman on earth. I
met her in high school, and fell in love, and we dated like two high school
sweet hearts. She was so beautiful, and she loved to tease, and the more I
wanted her the more she teased. Finally, three years later, in my junior year
in college, I married her and on my wedding night I took her cherry.
She comes from a big family, an Italian family, and while I won’t say they are
all mobsters it wouldn't be that far from the truth if I did. Her brothers are
all goons, plain and simple, and except for the wedding and a very rare visit,
I haven't seen them much. Guido, her oldest brother, is the biggest goon of
them all, and he I especially hate. Her father isn't all that bad, and he
never visits us thank God, although we do bring the two boys to see him at
least once a year. Thankfully, usually it happens when I am out of town and so
I can avoid having to see any of them at all. Still, Pop's not a bad sort
really, at least he didn’t used to be, and he's certainly no godfather, not by
a long shot, but he still heads "the business" as it's called and so I avoid
him.
On my wedding day he made me the one and only offer to join him in the
business, which I refused. I used the opportunity to make sure he understood
me and where I was coming from. After that, it never came up again, and he
never said another thing to me. Still, he sent lavish gifts to my boys as they
grew up, and except for the one threat about making sure I treated his
daughter right he never bothered me, even if he always thought she could have
done better.
Still, I never liked her family, and she knows that. I'm the opposite of them.
Honest. Hard working. I'm Catholic myself, but I'm not Italian, and I'm not
into crime or drugs or selling stolen merchandise. In fact, I've never done a
dishonest thing in my life. I work hard, selling medical supplies for a fairly
big medical supply company, and to keep the food on the table I travel a route
of cities selling my wares to one hospital after another. Yeah, it has been a
good 20 years, and I've been a good husband and am raising two great sons.
I stare at "The Curve." The thick hard plastic ring that is jammed behind my
balls and encircling my sac is tight, and the ring is as much a part of me now
as are my balls. I glance to the little lock, the small plastic one this time
with the random number typed across its face that ties the ring around my nuts
to the cage around my cock. The entire apparatus can slip undetected through a
metal detector, and yet even so it is as secure as if it was made of steel. Of
course, it would be so simple to tear it off---even a dime store pair of
scissors would take care of the lock in just a few seconds. Of course, then
she would know, and that would be my undoing.
I hate it. I think of my two boys, and as I think of them and their growing
bodies I stare at my encased cock and the numbered lock and I am envious. God,
even my thirteen year old is jacking off more than me now! I used to jack off
two and three times a day, and now, all I can do is stare and dream and drip,
and beg for relief when I am home. My boys jerk their meat whenever they want,
going into the bathroom half a dozen times a day to pump out their seed and
enjoy their ecstasy. Normally I would not have even noticed, but now I am so
envious I find myself noticing their long showers and the stains in their
underwear.
It's all missing from my life now, and the ability to hold your cock, to pump
it when you feel the need and to empty your nuts regularly and often is just
more important than I ever realized before. God. Still, even though I want it
and need it it is beyond my ability to obtain. I feel trapped, and I am, and
as I examine the prison that holds my cock the feeling of helplessness
overwhelms me.
Just six months ago everything was perfect, well, almost everything. The only
downside in my marriage was my wife's prudish attitude towards sex. Shit....it
was always the same....she on her back, legs spread, waiting for me, to do my
thing and to get it over with. If only I could have it like it was. Still, she
made it almost like a chore and over time the fun went out of it.
Oral sex was a dream, and I dreamed about it constantly even if it wasn't my
reality. I even begged her to at least try it, but she wasn't into doing
anything "nasty" or "immoral" and sometimes I could have kicked myself for
ever marrying a virgin. She wouldn't let me go down on her either, and there
wasn't anything I could do or say to change her mind.
Still, she brought me the boys, and they are the highlight of my life. But sex
was always the same, and while she didn't deny me she never initiated it. The
only variation was sometimes she would use her hand. If she was having her
period then she would place herself off limits....but back then at least she
would agree to pump me off with her hand so I would not be too frustrated.
Even then, it was less than satisfying, as she would always grab a handful of
tissue and just as I would start to cum she would hold it against the end of
my cock as I squirted out my load. She would always say "There there
there......let me catch that nasty mess now." God! Yeah, she had to catch the
"mess" she would say, and then, with a toss to the toilet, she would chuck the
tissue and flush my load as if my seed was something gross and disgusting that
needed to be gotten rid of.
Life can be boring sometimes. We did it the same way, vanilla sex, day after
day after day. Still, it was always available, the wifely duty as she used to
see it, and so to keep me happy she spread her legs and opened her hole
whenever I ask. Why we didn't end up with ten kids I'll never know. Even so, I
started having trouble even getting it up, and more often than not I'd just
satisfy myself with my right hand and go to bed without bothering to even ask
to fill her pussy. Masturbation was easier, and I never had trouble getting
hard for that. Our marriage suffered, but I didn't need her really to get
myself off, and in my fantasies I'd fuck my imaginary women doggie style, and
pump my cock deep into the open and eager lips of every hot college girl I
would see.
I guess I wanted a blow job so damn bad, and when my friends told me about
their sexual activities God I grew envious. I started reading the porn, even
going on line and dreaming about open mouths and gyrating pussies. On my trips
I would hit the strip clubs, and then go back to the room and jerk my cock
like a jackhammer. My wife doesn’t' believe boy's should masturbate, and she
certainly doesn’t think a married man should. So, obviously, I never did it in
her presence and she never suspected the frequency I was doing it. Still, I
dreamed of open mouths and hot young women as I worked my pole, fucking my
meat with an intensity she would never have understood.
Then, on a stupid trip to Chicago, a hot little stripper offered me a blow,
and shit, I took the opportunity and went for it and let her suck me like a
vacuum cleaner. God I was hard! Five minutes into it I squirted my load down
her throat and screamed out like a teenage boy doing it for the first time.
The feeling was just so intense, and as I was shooting my wad down the woman's
throat the feeling overwhelmed me in a way that still defies description.
Syphilis. That's what the doctor said a week later, and shit, I had to tell
the wife and get the fucking drugs for the both of us. I didn't even think it
was POSSIBLE to get that through oral sex! At least it was curable! But who
would have thought? FUCK. I took my almost perfect marriage and dumped it into
the sewer. Well, I thought the divorce was inevitable, sure as shit I did. I
figured she would take the house, and the BMW's, and the kids and the
retirement fund and the stocks and all the rest.
I begged her....begged her forgiveness for my only transgression. Twenty
years, one blow job, and FUCK! Hell, she cried for days, and yet the kids
never knew. She went home to Pop one weekend, and I took the boys fishing....I
held my breath and when she came home she seemed better....and she started
coming around then and I thought things would work themselves out if I waited
long enough.
Three weeks later, on a Friday night I got up the nerve and I apologized and
begged her forgiveness one more time. I gave her a ring, with a line of
diamonds around it, and told her I wanted her to have it as a present. The
timing seemed right, and she seemed receptive to me, and so I took the dare
and approached her about sex after I gave her the ring. She surprised me and
said OK, and while in hindsight it wasn't any different then all the other
times I never suspected it was going to be my last time where I was in
control. All I figured was that I was off the hook and everything would be OK.
What I never suspected was she too had a present coming for me.
I had a big business trip on Monday, my first trip since THE BLOW, so I was a
little concerned about going, but I had to go back to work if we were gonna
eat. I had promised on a stack of bibles I'd never be unfaithful again, and
she kept saying "I know you won't" and so I just figured it was going to work
itself out. I just never saw it coming. Perhaps I should have. Justin, my
sixteen year old, was off to a soccer camp for the weekend, and when she let
Jeremy, my thirteen year old, stay at a friend's house I just never suspected.
So, Saturday afternoon I was working around the house, gathering up my shit
for my trip, when the doorbell rang. When I opened it I was caught totally off
guard.
Standing in the door was her goon brother, and three other men that were built
like freight trains. They were carrying two boxes, wrapped like Christmas
presents, and a small satchel, and when I opened the door they just invited
themselves right inside. I hadn’t seen her older brother in more than a year,
and the other three men I had never seen in my life. I immediately wasn't
happy.
"Ur...uh....well, come on in then.....I see your manners haven't changed
Guido....I'll get Kathy, she's...."
"We didn't come to see sis.........she's been crying her heart out while
you've been messin around....and Pop's not too thrilled with you at the
moment."
GOD! WHAT THE FUCK????? My mind went blank...I mean, shit, her brother KNEW!
Her father KNEW! I was suddenly instantly mad....I mean, she had no right damn
her! Still, I never saw the danger, didn't realize where things were heading,
and so I just stared at them, and as I stared her big brother started to
slowly open the larger box he was carrying.
He turned to me and said "Have a seat stud....right there on the couch. Pop
wanted you to have a little early Christmas present and so we came all this
way to give it to you." I'll give sis her present after I'm done with you.
As he said that, he opened the box wrapped like a Christmas package and pulled
this clear plastic contraption out of it. I had never seen anything like it,
and I had no idea what the hell it was. It looked like a plastic tube, in the
shape of a cock, curving down and hanging. There were a few circular rings of
hard plastic that he dumped out on the coffee table, along with a brass
padlock and a few pink, plastic locks that had numbers written into them. It
was obviously something sexual, but what it was for I just had no idea.
I started to throw them all out of the house, when suddenly they were just on
me....I struggled...fought them, but shit, there were four of them and one of
me and before I hardly knew what was happening they had tied my hands behind
my back and were holding me and there wasn’t' much I could do about it. I
started screaming for my wife, and she came up, and as she came into the room
she stopped and stared and yet she didn't do anything to stop what was
happening even though I begged her to help me.
Guido undid my belt buckle, and there wasn’t anything I could do to keep my
pants up after that. They jerked them down to my knees, and then off, followed
by my Joe Boxer underwear, and then they dragged me up and over to our dining
room table. It’s a big heavy oak table, and it seats six. They dragged me up,
onto the edge of it, where I normally sit for dinner, with my ass on the table
and facing out, into the room. Guido sat in my chair. They used two Velcro
straps they had brought for the purpose and hooked my ankles to the two table
legs and then one of the goons held me from behind, so that I was sitting up,
staring at them, stark naked from the waist down with my legs spread wide--all
in my own dining room. I was yelling and cussing, and trying to pull my legs
together, but I was really powerless to stop what they were doing.
One of the goons I didn't know pulled out a pair of electric hair clippers,
and as I watched he plugged them in and went right to work on my bush. I
screamed and my wife looked away, and after that I was really scared, and
fought, but all I could do was jerk a little and watch as they man took off my
pubic hair with a few passes of the clippers. All the time Guido said "Get
used to it stud....we are doing you a favor cause the hair can be very
irritating and it tends to get snagged and in your way. Before long you'll be
doing this yourself and in a few minutes you'll be glad it's gone."
The big man finished with the clippers, and as he was putting them away Guido
squirted on the shaving cream. He shaved my balls and mound, and then, with a
damp towel one of the other men wiped off the cream. I looked down and gasped.
GOD! Bald. I mean, my entire pubic mound was missing....just shaved bald and
my cock was shrunk from fear. My two boys had more hair than I did! All I
could do was stare...stare at my bald mound and my scared and shrunkin
cock....and as I watched they pulled out a few of the plastic rings and held
them up next to my balls. Finally, they chose the second to the smallest ring
in the box.
It was thick plastic, and as I looked at it in Guido's hand he pulled it
apart. It was actually hinged, with a rivet through the bottom of the ring, so
that as he pulled the top the two ends separated and the hinged ring opened up
into a giant "U". The ring was about the diameter of a thick pencil, and it
was substantial.
I yelled "Hey..what the fuck....what the fuck is that plastic thing? TELL ME
DAM YOU!"
Guido looked at me, as he held the ring. Then he said "Well stud...first of
all, it's not exactly plastic. It's actually made out of a polycarbonate
polymer, and the strength of the material exceeds that of acrylic and even
lexan, the material they use in bullet proof vests. This one has an inner
diameter of 1 and 5/8 inches, and it looks like it will be a perfect fit.
You've got a huge scrotum...no wonder my sister married you."
As he said that he took the split ring and placed it under my scrotum, behind
my balls and then he started to close the split ring. I stared at him, and the
fit was very tight, but he pulled hard, down on my nuts, and then he slipped
it behind them and against my body. As I watched, with my nuts stretched out,
he managed to get it closed without any real difficulty, so that it encircled
my scrotum, under and behind my nuts and up and over my cock, flush with my
body. It was tight, but not too tight, and it was immediately apparent to me
that when the ring was closed there was no way to remove it.
Next, as I watched, he took a thick plastic guide pen and pushed it from
behind the ring and through the hole in the top of it where the two ends came
together. The pin held the ring closed, tight, around and behind my nuts and
resting on the top of my cock. I gasped.
Guido said "This ring is called the 'body cuff'. I suggest you get used to it
as its going to be here for a long time."
Next, he squirted some baby oil onto my dick, and then, he picked up the big
four inch long curved tube. It was shaped exactly like a cock, and then, to my
horror, he pushed my own prick into the tube, sliding the clear cage over my
cock so that it encircled it and covered it. There wasn't a lot of room to
spare, and with an inner diameter of one and three eights of an inch, it fit
my cock like a glove, tight, a plastic garage that held my pole and gripped it
and trapped it, curing it downward permanently.
I struggled, and jerked my hips and fought the men that held me down. It was
useless...and as I watched the horror of what was being done to me
intensified. The polycarbonate cock cage had two pins at the base of it, which
fit snugly into the big thick ring that was behind my nuts. As they slid home,
the bigger pin, that was running thought the top of the big body cuff, slid
though a hole in the top of the cage. That was all there was to it, and he had
it on me in less than a minute.
With a nod from her brother, Kathy walked up to me next, and as I stared at
her she looked at me and at the cage that entrapped my cock. Slowly, she
smiled, and then, she took one of the pink plastic locks out of her brother's
hand and placed it through the little hole in the end of the pin that was
linking the 'body cuff' to the 'cock cage.' With a click, she snapped the lock
closed, and for the first time in a long time she smiled.
I gasped, stared at her, and at my cock that was locked tight and encased in
plastic. She cupped my balls in her soft hand, holding them, running his thumb
along the outside of the plastic that covered my cock, feeling the hardness of
the material. I could tell she liked it...the cage trapping my manhood, and it
was obvious from her look that she was excited. Her eyes sparkled.
She dropped my balls, and turned around and headed into the kitchen to prepare
some snacks for her brother and his guests. As soon as she was out of the
room, Guido pulled out his switchblade, and with a punch of the button I
watched the six inch blade snap into view. He grabbed the entire polycarbonate
cage that encased my cock, and pulled out on it, hard, until the plastic ring
was jammed into my balls, crushing them from behind. It was immediately
obvious that the device could not be removed without taking off the lock. Then
he said this to me.
"So, you played around on my sister. Well, never again. Sis holds the keys to
your cock now....and only she will decide when, or even IF, your fuck pole
ever gets to breath the air again. One promise...and this one comes directly
from Pop....you ever take it off yourself...EVER.....for ANY REASON, and I
SWEAR TO GOD we will come back and castrate you the very moment we find out.
You got that....we will TAKE YOUR BALLS AND YOUR COCK...and we won't give you
a SECOND CHANCE. And if you try and divorce my sister, I'll take your cock off
in SLICES, starting at the TIP! YOU GOT THAT?"
I stared. I looked him in his eyes, and he was dead serious.
"YOU GOT THAT?" he yelled.
I swallowed. And then I nodded, and just as I did he jerked the knife, hard,
up against my balls, and I could feel the sharpness of the steel right against
my sack, under the plastic ring that trapped my nuts. I
gasped...grunted...feeling the feeling of the blade against the essence of my
manhood. I almost yelled then "YEAH..oh GOD...don't....I GOT IT!"
Sex...or...sexless. With a single sweep of the knife he could change my life
in a moment. Time stood still. I whimpered....thought for a moment he was
going to do it. He obviously wanted to. Then, slowly, he released the
pressure, and I almost feinted as he let me go and my big balls dropped down
under the cage that held my cock.
GOD. That was almost exactly six months ago. Half a year is a long time. Now,
here I am, in a hotel room, on another business trip and coming out of the
shower and feeing sorry for myself. I finish drying off, and dribble some baby
oil down through the slits so as to lubricate my shaft within the cage. It's
more comfortable that way, and it doesn’t hurt so much when it starts to grow
inside the tube. After that, I pull up my white jockeys and slide them over
the cage. I used to wear boxer shorts, but not anymore. I am on my way home,
the trip all but over, and I can hope that she will free me for a few minutes.
I feel my dick stir again, with just the thought of the possibility, and I try
to shift my thoughts before the end of my prick is jammed into the end once
gain like a battering ram.
I've only been out of the cage four times since it was put on, and I got to
cum three of those four times. As my keyholder she owns me, and getting back
to her now is all I can think about. I never used to look forward to getting
home, not like I do now, and yet I miss her so much and need her so bad that
getting home is all I can think about. Still, sex, if you want to call it
that, is anything but a certainty anymore, even though I beg and beg and beg
like some high school teenager out trying to make it with his first girl. Just
like a teen going steady, I send her flowers all the time now, call her on the
phone daily, and open the car door for her on every trip. She loves foot rubs,
and I oil her back and massage in the cream every night when she is getting
ready for bed. At home I iron her clothes and cook her meals and clean the
house like a maid. My boys wonder what has gotten into me, as I wait on her
hand and foot and literally, almost figuratively, worship the very ground she
walks on.
But she holds the key. The KEYHOLDER. MY keyholder. Only she can let me cum,
only she can give me the relief I so desperately need. She has made it clear
now, that only if I am good, and behave myself, and treat her right and buy
her presents and kiss her constantly do I have a chance. She has hinted that
maybe when I get home, this time, she will let me out for a few minutes of
pleasure. I need it, bad, the constant drip in my cock is so continuous now
that it is all I can think about. GOD I WANT TO CUM.
The last time she let me was almost a month ago, and then it was only after I
had been good to her and had bought her roses and chocolates and we had gone
out to celebrate my birthday. I remember that night, the last time I got to
cum. My birthday present. When I came into the bedroom she had the cuffs
there, on the bed, gifts from her father and all set up for me. The rule is
simple, before she lets me out, that first of all my hands are cuffed so only
she can actually touch my cock. If I beg to touch it myself then she puts away
the cuffs and I stay locked up tight. I don't get a second chance.
So, when I saw the cuffs out of the closet and in place on the bed I knew and
she smiled and I almost jumped to get my hands into them. As soon as I did she
locked my wrists into place and at that point all I could do was watch. That
time she cuffed my wrists to the headboard, so that my hands were held wide
apart and useless. Still, I'm not stupid, and I sure wasn't going to argue,
not after the first time, when she put the cuffs away and made me wait almost
a month before she gave me another opportunity. So, even though I am so
desperate, I don't argue...don't dare to. Instead, I beg and beg and hope to
God that she will take out the cuffs and put me in them.
I've only been lucky enough to be cuffed the four times. Like I said, the
first time I made the mistake of arguing, demanding that she free my hands and
my cock, and all it got me was another month of frustration. Yeah, even as I
laid their making my demands all she did was reshave my balls and oil my cock.
She let it bounce hard and stiff and eager, stuck out like a piece of steel,
but she wouldn’t touch it after I started making my demands for freedom and so
all that happened was that it bounced up and down out of the cage while it
dripped and dripped, the clear fluid of my frustration drooling into a tiny
pool beneath my nuts.
While I was cuffed to the bed and making my demands she pulled out a vibrator
that I didn't even know she had. As soon as I saw it though I recognized the
box, as her brother Guido had brought it the same day he had brought the other
box to me. As I watched her, she pushed it in and out of her pussy, having
orgasm after orgasm as she watched and stared and laughed at my jutting cock
that was drooling like a horny teenager's. Finally, she was satisfied, and
then she put away her little toy and came back with a bucket of ice for me.
Five minutes later she got it soft, and back into its cage as I cried and
begged her to at least jerk it off for me before she locked me up. She said
"NO"....I obviously didn't appreciate her, and she told me to "wait a month"
and then if I behaved myself then "we will see." OH GOD it was the longest
month of my life! So, when I got the second chance I didn't dare argue, and
instead just about leaped into the cuffs and let her lock my hands to the
headboard of our bed.
It is so rare now and so special that I can remember each of the three times I
have been allowed to ejaculate like they were yesterday. The first time, as I
sat upright I watched her remove the little lock, and slide off the tube that
has been my cock's home ever since that fateful Saturday. I didn't need any
blue pills anymore, my cock jutted out, stiff and eager and hard as any
teenagers. Rock hard, in seconds.....the end dripping, flared and big and
round and purple. I was as hard as I have ever been in my entire life.
On that first time she took her wad of tissue, and held it over the end of my
dick, and then, with just two fingers of her other hand, as if she was holding
something repulsive, she began to jerk the skin of my cock. It only took six
strokes and I was grunting, the thick semen just shooting out of my dick and
into the tissue, pumping out so thick it was almost like paste. I shot and
shot and shot....the biggest wad of my life, pumping out my seed and literally
flooding the tissue she was holding. All the time she looked disgusted.....and
the intense smell of my spent up semen filled the bedroom. She just jacked me
off, watching my face as I grunted out my load. Finally, after almost a
minute, my balls were empty. Then she made me thank her. After I did, she
tossed the tissue into the toilet, and then, as my cock finally settled slowly
down, she forced it back into its polycarbonate prison and locked it with a
little brass lock, putting the key around her neck after she did so.
I begged her afterwards for more, and all she did was laugh. She likes the
cage, likes the control, likes knowing I am dripping with desire and as docile
as a puppy. The device is well made, and when I'm traveling like I am now the
little plastic locks don't even set off the metal detectors at the airport,
and yet even so they are as secure as if they were made of steel. The only way
the plastic locks can be removed is by cutting them off, and with their unique
and random numbers there is no way to remove them without her knowing it.
The third time she took out the cuffs was at Christmas, and after my wrists
were secure and I was incapable of touching my prick then and only then did
she unlock the lock and remove the cage. As soon as it came off my cock jutted
out stiff and hard like a teenage boy's. That time, with my arms behind my
back, she made me sit while she shaved it bald. Normally I can keep the hair
off my mound myself, but it's always the first thing she does once she does
cuff my hands and removes the cage. Afterwards, she played with it, teased it
a little, and then she laid on her back and invited me to fuck her hole. I
waddled over to her, on my knees, but it was difficult without my hands, and I
probed with my pole jabbing for her hole like a teenage boy trying to find it
for the first time.
She thought that was funny, my desperation, and she laughed at my erection and
the way I tried to jab her pussy. Finally, I lucked out and slid it inside of
her, and she held me up with her arms on my shoulders. Even with my hands
cuffed behind my back I came almost instantly, pumped out my thick seed deep
into her pussy, and yet my pole stayed hard and so I started to fuck her
again. It felt so good, working it in and out, and yet as soon as she had
reached her orgasm she was through with me. Immediately afterwards she pushed
me off of her, just before I could shoot a second time, and then she
dismounted and left me that way, staring at my cock which continued to drip
and bob and jut, hard and eager and right on the verge of being twice
satisfied.
I tried to roll over on my stomach to finish the job, to fuck the bed, but
that made her mad and she rolled me over so I was staring at the ceiling and
then she literally forced my rod back into its cage. GOD IT HURT! I told her I
was too hard to fit, that I needed to cum again so I could fit inside. She
looked at me, and then as I watched she just made a fist and punched my sac.
Oh fuck, it hurt so bad and that little ring behind my nuts held my balls
tight and made her shot even more devastating than it might have been
otherwise. I grunted out, gasping for air, and as I heaved my prick went down
enough that with some effort she was able to force it into the tube, and after
a few minutes she had managed my frustrated cock all locked back into its hard
plastic home.
Often, when I am home and begging for it she will laugh and tell me I need to
learn my manners and practice controlling myself. Sometimes she will ask me if
I want to fuck her, and I always say yes. She will undress me at that point,
and laugh as my cock smashes into the end of the tube in eager anticipation.
Then, she will flash a wicked smile and make me go get her vibrator and slide
it into her pussy. She likes staring at my cock jutting up and smashed inside
its tube, straining to grow when it is impossible to do.
I don't dare get mad. If I refuse to do her bidding I know I'll never get it
out of the cage, never get to cum again, so that isn't even a possibility
worth considering. She likes to watch me work the dildo in and out, fucking
her hole with the plastic, vibrating toy as if it was my cock. It's obvious
she doesn’t really need me anymore, and so all I can do is beg and hope and
prey she will have mercy and let me out and let me shoot at least every once
in a while. Still, I know its not going to happen very often, and in fact it's
so rare it's shouldn't even be something I should hope for. But I do, and it
is always on my mind and it is always in my thoughts.
Ouch! My prick, once again, has bottomed out in the four inch cage. It hurts,
and I know I am dripping. I get one of the pads, just like women use, and
slide it into my underwear to catch the dripping and to contain the wet spot
that will otherwise soak through my pants. I need to leave soon for the
airport, and for my trip home, and I know that before I go I need to call her
and tell her once again how important she is to me. She is too, for she holds
the key and the keyholder is everything when you have lost your cock the way I
have lost mine.
[Authors note: © Copyright December, 2002. All rights reserved. Not to be
copied without the consent of the author.]
* * * |
Unknown Assailant | GAY, TESTICLES | Fantasy, A young man finds himself the victim of an unknown assailant | ` I live in New York in one of those high rise apartments, working a very
stressful job, and not much else. My daily routine consists of having
breakfast, getting to the gym for an hour workout, showering and then on to
work, where I put in an 8 to 10 hour day and then come home and crash. I'm a
six foot four blond, with a little mustache, a muscular hairless body,
rounding out with an eight-inch thick cut cock and fat round balls. My cock
has a nice fat mushroom head, which looks out of proportion to my cock
especially when soft. I've gotten quite a few opportunities to know that once
it's hard, most guys can't deep throat me, without passing out from lack of
oxygen, mine you they go ape shit once it's inside their tight asses. `
Weekend's use to find me in the baths and a number of popular bars, where I
was able to drain my balls dries. After the Aid's scare, and the baths closed,
my action dwindled to an occasional blowjob in the subways and my trusty right
hand. Because of my stressful job, and not getting the action I needed, I was
always in a constant state of horniness. I got a lot of looks at the office,
when I'd walk by various cubicles with a hardon in my pants, I mean even when
soft, I showed a big bulging packing between my legs.
I got home late one night and picked up my mail, noticing a letter with no
return address. Once I got upstairs, I opened it thinking it was just another
piece of junk mail, except it had a first class stamp.
When I opened it and started reading I had to set down, I was so shocked. It
was a typed letter, detailing my daily routine and telling me how hot the
person who wrote me, thought I was. They referred in detail the lewd things
they'd enjoying doing to my cock and balls if they were ever given the chance.
It scared the hell out of me, to think someone had been paying that much
addition to me, but at the same time it was kinda a turn on.
I went into the bathroom and jerked off, while re-reading the letter again. I
had trouble sleeping that night, and woke up several times, dripping wet, with
a raging hardon. I was somewhat rattled the next morning, and looked at
everyone all through the day, to see if I'd recognized anyone, who may have
been stocking me throughout the day. I didn't have a clue, and then the
following week, I got another letter in the mail. It described my week even
down to my jerk off sessions. I really freaked out over that one. I searched
the bathroom and bedroom, but found nothing. I began jumping at shadows and by
the end of the week I was a wreak. My concentration at work had slipped and my
work began to suffer. My boss called me into the office and wanted to know
what was going on. I told him the stress must be getting to me, and he
suggested I take a vacation. That sounded like a great idea and I told him I'd
make vacation reservations, if he could find someone to fill in for me until I
returned. He said that wouldn't be a problem, just make the reservations.
I made arrangements that afternoon for a nice two week Caribbean vacation and
went home feeling great. The next week, my work improved and I left everything
in pretty good shape. The night before my flight, there was another letter in
my box. I began to shake, as I opened it and began to read. Whoever was
writing me, wished me an enjoyable vacation and told me to relax and get a
good all over tan, especially my cock and balls.
I arrived at the hotel, and had my baggage carried up by a very handsome
bellboy. He wanted to know if there was anything else he could do for me and
on impulse, I asked him what he was doing once he got off duty. He surprised
me when he said nothing special, and he'd be more than happy to be at my
service. So we made a date for later on that night, and I went down, ate, laid
by the pool for a couple hours and then went up and took a short nap. I had
just stepped out of the shower and was drying off when there was a knock on
the door. When I opened the door, I was left breathless, standing before me
was one good looking hunk. He'd taken his shirt off and was only wearing a
pair of tight thongs. He entered, shut the door, grabbed the towel and dropped
it to the floor and was down on his knees and sucking on my cock, before I
could say a word. He was an experience cocksucker, but still had trouble deep
throating me. Finally, I was able to pull him off my cock, and move to the
bed, where he dropped his thong, delighting me with a nice long uncut cock and
low hanging balls in a hairless sac. We fell on the bed into a sixty-nine
position and in no time had climaxed together. We spent the entire evening in
bed and I had to admit when he left in the morning, both my cock and ass were
worn out. He left me sleeping and returned to work. Later on that day when I
came down to grab a bite to eat, I ran into him and asked him if he was
interested in a repeat performance. He smiled and pulled my hand over his
crotch and asked me what did I think. I was surprised to find a hard bulge,
straining to get out of his pants.
We made plans for later on that evening. And so it went the entire two weeks.
I never did get out to tour the island, but I certainly explored every crook
and cranny of his body. When I finally boarded the plane, I was more depressed
that before. I'd never had that much sex, and with the same person, ever in my
life. I think, I'd fallen in love.
When I arrived home, I went up to my apartment and crashed. The next morning I
returned to work and was kept busy until lunchtime, when I decided I needed a
break and went to the post office to pickup my mail. Much to my surprise there
was another letter, similar to the others. I decided not to open it until I
got home. No use to upset my afternoon. When I got home I was actually shaking
as I opened the envelope. Much to my surprise, I was welcomed back and was
told how glad they were that I'd fucked my brains out with the bellboy. I
dropped the letter in disbelief. Who was this person and why was he tracking
me. He had to have followed me to the island, how else, could he have known
about my exploits. I was really shaken and freaked out by now. I decided, it
was time to call in the police to see what they could do in finding this
person. I decided I'd stop by the station close to the office during my lunch
break the next day and see what they suggested I do.
That night, I needed to get some sleep, so I took a sleeping pill and hit the
bed. The next thing I remember was waking up to this pain in my balls. I tried
to reach down and see what was causing the pain, when I realized I couldn't
move my arms and then couldn't see anything either. I'd been tied up,
blindfolded, and gagged. I felt something warm being applied to my crotch and
then something sharp, sliding down over my abdomen and around my crotch. For
the first time, I heard someone speak, "now don't move, else your libel to
loose something". I felt a warm towel being applied to my genitals and then
felt rather than saw a presence beside me. Whoever was leaning over and a hot
breath against my ear said "you know I've been watching you for months now and
you have no idea how much I envy you, your good looks, great body and big fat
round nuts. It's just not fair that you have it all, while I have nothing. So
I've decided to take just a small part from you. I'm sure you won't begrudge
me now will you". He moved away and then I felt his presence between my legs,
the towel being removed and then his hot mouth engulfing my hard cock all the
way down to the root. The suction he applied was like being plugged into a
vacuum cleaner. I thought he was about to pull my cock out by the root, the
suction was so strong. Within second, I was shooting a big load down his
throat. He held on until I was drained dry and then I felt something warm on
my cock and balls again, then felt a towel wiping my genitals. He picked up my
cock and laid it on my abdomen and then it felt like he put a piece of tape
over the head and taped it to my abdomen. I felt him lift my nuts up and put
them on some kind of wooden block. Then there was searing pain as something
sharp sliced across the top of the sac. I felt something probing around inside
my sac and then this dull pain as my left cord was pulled up and then what
felt like string being tied tightly around the cord. The same was done to my
right cord, and then more pain as the knife was pressed down on the block and
in one quick slice, I knew that my balls were no longer attached. The next
thing I remember was waking up to sunshine coming through my window, partially
blinding me as I opened my eyes. Immediately, I felt pain in my groin and
raised up on my elbows and looked down between my legs. My cock was still
taped to my abdomen, but my balls were gone and crotch was all black and blue.
I couldn't believe the nightmare had resulted in this, if only I'd gone to the
police with the first letter, hopefully none of this would have occurred. I
finally reached for the phone and called work, telling them I'd gotten food
poisoning last night, and I was in bed. Hopefully, I'd be into work the
following Monday, since it was already Friday. It turned out to be a long
weekend, but whoever had mutilated me knew how to sew me up. I was able to
walk around and on Monday, managed to get to work, made it thought the day and
was about ready to head home, when my boss stopped by. He seemed concerned
that I still looked under the weather, and told me if I needed to take off a
few more days, he'd understand. I thanked him for his concern, but said I was
sure I was on the mend.
That night, there was another letter in my box, along with a picture of my
nuts floating around in a container. At the bottom of the letter, a PS which
read, "My balls are lonely floating here all alone, and would sure like some
company. If you'd like to provide a companion, just leave the kitchen light
on". I rode the elevator up to my floor, opened my door, flipped the kitchen
light on and took two sleeping pills. I knew this was going to be another long
night.
* * * |
Lindas sex toy 3...new friends | WARNING, BI, Urophilia | Linda learns her human dildo husband/ slave is good for more than just sitting on | Linda had known Teri for years, and was comfortable with her sitting on
Dickies hard cock, while they chatted and drank coffee.
"I'm absolutely stuffed!" Teri chuckled, Teri put her finger in her belly
button and grinned..."He's all the way...up here!!" She rubbed and patted her
bulging belly with Dickies cock inside her, and felt him throbbing inside her!
Thats when Teri announced to Linda that she had a new boyfriend. Tom wasn't as
big as Dickie...only about 8 inches hard, but he was a great fuck anyway.
"Getting a 20 minute fuck is great" Teri explained,
"But it's not as sweet as sitting on THIS for an hour or so"
Linda smiled and they continued chatting....then Teri continued.
"Tom loves oral sex...he goes down on me until I have to push him off"
"But?" Linda asked.....sensing there was more...
"I'm not good at giving him head...especially when he cums in my mouth, which
he insists on doing, and he cums so much!!"
While Dickie squirmed below Teri...in response to her milking his cock with
her pussy...Teri grinned at Linda and threw out the punchline...
"I...uh....was wondering....uh..how you felt...about introducing your boytoy
here...to a little deepthroat cocksucking?!"
Linda just grinned and moved to Dickies head. She undid his gag straps...an
pulled a full 7 inch black rubber penis gag from his throat!! Dickie gasped
fresh air, while Linda held the dripping rubber cock above his mouth!
"He's got a throat like a girraffe!" Linda laughed..."Watch this!"
Linda went to the bedroom, and returned with an 8 inch gag, pretty blue in
color...a little thicker with a larger head on it! She showed Teri the hole
down the center of it so Dickie could breathe...then Linda slowly screwed the
penis gag into dickies throat and tied it off behind his head!
Dickie was gagging for a moment...choking on the new intrusion into his
gullet...then he settled down and began to breathe!
"It's also good for feeding him...a slow piss drip...pussy juice injected into
his belly....I think some good man cum would be good for him....tell Tom, he
can feed my little slut, anytime he wants!"
Teri smiled...rubbed her clit for a second...and grunted out a wonderfull
orgasm, soaking Dickie with her juices!
After she finally climbed off...Teri looked curiously at Linda.
"Really?...he drinks your pee?"
"Well...he hates it...but he does it because he has no choice...how HOT is
that?...knowing your piss, is in his belly?!"
"Would....you?...like to contribute?" Linda asked?!
Teri nervously dribbled over a pint....into a glass pitcher....it was dark and
foamy...she'd never really seen her pee up close before...and the aroma was
overwhelming!
Linda poured it into a clear bag, attached the hose to Dickies gag, and they
watched him helplessly swallow her nasty piss!!
"OH!...That IS....so intense!!" Teri moaned! She placed her hand on his
belly....
"It's HOT....I can feel my pee in his tummy!!"
After Teri left....Linda added her on pee to Dickies feeding bag, and mounted
his cock, still wet from Teri's pussy....and rode her slave/hubby....pressing
down on his belly...as he drank!! Linda smiled, feeling the heat of fresh piss
in his belly.
"How badly do you want to keep this thing?" she whispered to Dickey...
"Bad enough to become my little cocksucker?"
Dickie just grunted...at the idea, and gulped noisily.
"Well we'll see...Friday night"
Linda groaned....just as an orgasm began to explode through her pussy.
comments and IDEAS for poor Dickey welcome...
[email protected]
* * * |
The Tribes, Chapter 30 | BI, PENECTOMY | Jack extracts information about the Werewolves and the Brotherhood from their prisoners. Using information supplied by the Shiprats, Zoot and the Loco Tribe hunt down the remaining Werewolves. Jack implements his plans to face the Brotherhood head on by ambushing Gull. | ` The Tribes, Chapter 30 `
Ryan had to take a couple of detours, but he eventually managed to reach
Jack’s destination – the old zoo. At the main gate, Jack jumped out of the
pickup truck and used bolt cutters to cut the padlock from the chains that had
been wrapped around the gates. Jack held the gates open while Ryan eased the
truck through. As Ryan waited for Jack to swing the gates closed and climb
back into the truck’s cab, from the corner of his eye he thought he saw
something large and gray lope across the road ahead, but when he turned to
look the road was empty.
Instead of climbing back into the truck, Jack ran about twenty yards ahead to
one of those “You Are Here” maps and began studying it. Putting the truck in
gear, Ryan eased the vehicle along the wide pathway to where Jack was closely
examining the map. The empty zoo was creeping Ryan out – it was strange to be
standing among all the empty habitat exhibits. Ryan shook off the creepy
feeling and climbed out of the truck to join Jack at the map.
“You know where we want to go?” Ryan asked.
“Yeah – all we have to do is follow this road we go past the little snack bar
and then take the first road to the right and follow that to the rhino
paddock,” Jack said.
“Uh huh, that sounds easy enough,” Ryan said, looking around uneasily. No
matter how hard he tried to ignore the creepy feeling, he just couldn’t do it.
The feeling was more intense now that he was out of the truck. “So, is this
going to take long?”
“It shouldn’t,” Jack said absently as he examined the map one last time. “Is
there something wrong?”
“Yeah – this place creeps me out, Jack, and I don’t mind admitting it. The
sooner we’re out of here the happier I’ll be.”
Jack looked around at the unnaturally silent habitat exhibits and had to admit
that the sight of them was a little creepy. Like everything else in the world
when the Bad Times began, the zoo was abandoned and the animals left to fend
for themselves until they died. And for some unexplained reason, the survivors
steered clear of the zoo – maybe they were afraid that some of the animals
were wandering around. Or, maybe they were worried because there were so many
good ambush locations in the park. Whatever the reasons, Jack was counting on
the average survivor being too frightened of the place to venture as deep into
the park proper as he planned to go.
Once back in the truck it wasn’t hard to find their way along the wide paths.
At the rhino paddock, Jack told Ryan to turn left and follow the road until he
came to the next right turn. That seemed easy enough and about a quarter of a
mile further on, Ryan found the turn easily enough. Padlocked gates prevented
him from making the turn and he was forced to wait until Jack had snipped the
lock away and opened the gates. Climbing back into the truck, Jack told Ryan
to just follow the road. The farm boy followed Jack’s directions and about
five minutes later found himself in front of a large, ultramodern-looking
building.
“What is this place?”
“Right where we want to be,” Jack said with satisfaction. “This is the main
veterinary building – with any luck I’ll find everything I need in there.”
“Cool,” Ryan said as he pulled the truck into one of the empty parking spaces
near the front door. “Do me a favor – find that shit fast so we can get out of
here. It’s even creepier back here.”
“I’ll do what I can,” Jack said slipping out of the cab and grabbing his
canvas bag from the bed of the pickup. He reached into the bag and produced
two heavy-duty lanterns, handing one over to Ryan. “I doubt we can expect the
power to still be on in there,” he said by way of explanation.
Ryan took the lantern and hurried up the steps to the door and gave the handle
a jerk. Nothing happened. Ryan turned back to Jack in dismay. “The door’s
locked!”
Jack grinned and dug a crowbar from the bag. “Not a problem – I brought a
key.”
Ryan couldn’t help laughing as he took the crowbar from Jack and forced the
door open. The two of them turned on their lanterns and entered the building.
The air inside was musty and cobwebs hung from the ceilings. Ryan milled
around aimlessly wondering what treasures Jack expected to find in the place.
He watched quietly as Jack shone his lantern along the walls as if searching
for something. Suddenly, he stopped moving the light around and hurried over
to what looked like a map on the wall.
“Not great as maps go,” Jack said over his shoulder. “It’s more of a fire exit
location map than anything else – but it’s enough to give us an general idea
of where to look.”
“For what?”
“For the labs, of course,” Jack said as if the answer were obvious. Without
waiting for Ryan, he raced down the corridor and turned right at the first
intersection. Tightening his grip on the crowbar, Ryan followed.
Tyler curled up in a corner of what had once been a coffee shop and cursed
Cullen for about the thousandth time. He was sure that Cullen and his team
were out there lost somewhere, he couldn’t imagine any of the punks in The
City being able to really put up a serious fight against a Werewolf team. No,
Cullen and the other two idiots with him were lost. But, Prometheus refused to
listen to reason – he decided to play it safe and move from the previous lair
to one of the backups they had chosen. And, on the off chance that Cullen or
one of the others had been captured, Prometheus had decided to send Tyler and
his team to a third location.
Tyler hadn’t minded at first – the less time he spent around Prometheus, the
happier he was. The Werewolf leader didn’t cut anyone too much slack. The
simplest mistake was worth at least ten lashes with a crop. Serious mistakes
could earn a trip to Gull’s dungeon – and no one returned from there. His
pleasure at being out of Prometheus’ presence was short-lived once he and his
team settled into the coffee shop. The floors were hard, cold tile that sapped
the warmth out of a body in no time. Denton and Bumper were pressed close
together in a pathetic attempt to share body heat. There weren’t any padded
booths in the shop – just broken round café style tables and hard chairs.
Cursing Cullen one more time, Tyler curled himself into a ball and tried to
get some sleep before the hunt later that night. Just as he drifted off to
sleep, Tyler hoped that Prometheus’s sleeping arrangements were as bad as his.
Zoot looked over the maps of the sectors where he had people searching for the
Werewolves. He had turned the Loco Headquarters into Command Central for
Operation Wolf Hunt, as he called it. He had a dozen search teams scouring the
sectors for the hiding places of the Werewolves. The teams had specific orders
to locate the hiding places and confirm the presence of the attackers and then
send a runner back to HQ. Once Zoot knew where the Werewolves were holed up,
he’d dispatch his soldiers to capture them. Zoot had no doubt that his men
would be successful – regardless of how well-trained the Werewolves might be,
the sheer numbers of Locos attacking them would overwhelm them. He turned to
Ebony who was waiting silently in the shadows on the other side of the room.
“How are the preparations going at the club?”
“Everything is progressing smoothly,” she said with a feral smile. “When I
left to report here, the workers were almost finished erecting the
scaffolding.”
“Excellent, excellent,” Zoot said. “It’s going to hold up, won’t it?”
“Don’t worry, the scaffolding is made up of pipes and locking connectors. In
the old days, scaffolding like that used to be used at rock concerts to hold
huge speaker columns and lighting. It’ll hold up,” she assured him. “I don’t
understand why you don’t just have your soldiers kill them where they find
them, though. It would be a lot easier and more efficient.”
Zoot shook his head. Ebony was about as ruthless as anyone he’d ever met was,
but she lacked the sense of showmanship and flamboyance that was necessary to
be an effective leader. “Ebony, Ebony, Ebony how many times must I explain
that easy and efficient aren’t necessarily the best things. You need to give
the people a show – let them see the consequences of crossing you.” He stood
and crossed the room to her. “Anyone can kill another person – that’s done
more times a day than I care to count. But, take that victim and make him a
part of a spectacle before a crowd and you’ll own that crowd.” Zoot took Ebony
by the throat and pulled her closer until their faces were almost touching.
“The rabble need entertainment to keep them happy, and they need a sense of
fear to keep them in line. Mix the two and you have them eating out of your
hand.”
Zoot leaned closer and ran his tongue up the side of Ebony’s neck, tracing the
curve of her jaw until his mouth reached hers. Their open mouths met and the
two began kissing and biting each other. Their lovemaking was always an
animalistic mixture of passion and violence that never failed to energize each
of them. Zoot dragged her to the chaise lounge on the other side of the room
and pushed her down while he straddled the lounge and slowly began unbuttoning
his tunic. Ebony’s dark eyes burned with hunger as she watched him slowly
strip, revealing his hard, muscular body. Smiling, Ebony reached up and began
to seductively unlace the leather bustier she wore, teasing Zoot as she slowly
opened it more and more. She lowered her eyes to Zoot’s well-developed chest
that still bore the signs of the last time they made love. Zoot dropped his
shirt to the floor and leaned down over Ebony.
Barely healed scratches crossed his smooth pectorals where she had gouged him
with her nails. A couple of them might even leave a scar, she decided. Her
cat-like smile widened as she raked her long nails down Zoot’s back. The gasp
that escaped Zoot’s mouth was one of pleasure rather than pain. He grinned
down at Ebony and she raked her nails down his back again. Zoot straightened
and unbuckled the riding breeches he wore, pushing them down to the tops of
his riding boots freeing his erection. Ebony greedily stared at her lover’s
thick, heavily veined eight-inch dick. She reached out one painted fingernail
and lightly ran it around and around the purple mushroom head that hovered
over her.
Zoot threw his head back, sighing with pleasure as Ebony teased his dick with
her scarlet fingernails. Leaning forward, Zoot reached out and began kneading
Ebony’s small, pert breasts working his thumbs over her nipples. The guttural
sound that escaped Ebony was more like the purr of an aroused tigress than any
sound made by a human. Zoot knelt on the chaise and spread his legs wide as he
eased closer and closer to her vagina. He continued kneading her breasts and
working her nipples, listening to the guttural sounds coming from her mouth
grow more frequent and more intense. He waited until Ebony’s breath began to
grow ragged and then he thrust his tool into her.
Ebony’s back arched when Zoot entered her and began a slow, rhythmic thrusting
that brought her as much pleasure as it did him. She reached up and dragged
her nails over his chest, teasing his nipples. Seeing Zoot grit his teeth as
she scraped her nails over his sensitive nipples only served to increase her
mounting pleasure. Zoot began to increase the speed of his hip thrusts when
someone began pounding on the door.
Zoot’s eyes snapped open. “Later,” he yelled over his shoulder, never slowing
his momentum.
“Boss, it’s important,” Oliver White called through the door, his voice
plaintive.
Zoot continued to thrust in and out of Ebony as he looked over his shoulder.
“I said later!”
“It’s about the Werewolves, boss,” Oliver shouted. “You said I was s’posed t’
tell ya the second I got any news.”
“Get your ass in here!” Zoot bellowed as he continued to pump away at Ebony.
Oliver charged into the room and stopped short when he saw what Zoot and Ebony
were doing. He ran a hand over his rat-like face and stood with his back to
Zoot and Ebony. “Weasel Kincaid has found the lair of some of the Werewolves,
boss.”
“Don’t fucking stand behind me when you talk,” Zoot growled. “Move your skinny
ass to the head of the chaise so I can see you.” Oliver moved to the top of
the chaise and faced the Loco leader, nervously running a hand through his
parrot green hair. “Tell me what Weasel found,” Zoot ordered.
“There’s an old coffee shop over in Sector Twelve on Hammond Street, he sent a
report back that there are three of the Werewolves in there,” Oliver reported.
“He said they appear to be using the shop as a place to hole up for the day
and get some sleep.”
“Three, huh?” Zoot mused. “According to what Jack learned there were ten
Werewolves and one leader, making eleven in all. The Shiprats accounted for
three … Weasel found three … that means that there are still four more out
there.”
“Exactly, boss.”
Zoot paused conversing as he felt the first stirrings of the mutual orgasm he
and Ebony were about to share. The muscles in her love canal were
involuntarily flexing, squeezing his dick as his balls churned. He began
thrusting harder and faster, leaving both of them panting in pleasure just
moments before Ebony arched her back, her ass coming completely off the chaise
as Zoot emptied his load inside of her. As soon as his orgasm died away, Zoot
pushed himself to his feet and ordered Oliver to get him a towel.
Zoot casually cleaned himself off while Homer waited for orders to relay. “Is
there a back entrance to this place?”
Oliver stared up at the ceiling as he thought. Finally, he shook his head as
he looked back to Zoot. “No, according to Weasel’s message the only way in and
out is through the front.”
“Okay – I want one hundred soldiers sent to take those assholes,” Zoot said as
he began dressing. “Make it clear that I want each of the Werewolves brought
back alive – they can slap those creeps around all they want so long as they
remain alive and conscious.”
“Got it, boss.”
“After they capture those Werewolves, have them delivered to the Square in
front of the Inferno,” Zoot ordered.
After Oliver dashed from the room to carry out Zoot’s orders, Ebony raised up
on one elbow and regarded Zoot coolly. “Isn’t a hundred and twenty-five
soldiers a bit of overkill for just three men?”
“Of course it is, don’t be such an ass,” Zoot said coolly. “I want those
Werewolves taken alive – the sheer volume of numbers will ensure that that
happens. Even if I lose some soldiers in the process, I’ll get the prisoners.”
Zoot finished buttoning his shirt and began pulling on his tunic. “By tonight,
the word will spread that the Locos under Zoot’s leadership captured the
bogeymen and put an end to their reign of terror.”
“That won’t hurt your reputation any,” Ebony observed.
“Of course not, which is the whole reason for putting on a show tonight,” Zoot
smiled.
The refugees from the Lost Boys Tribe had finally fallen asleep a little after
dawn. Keith wandered down the rows of beds shaking his head in a strange
mixture and sadness. Some of the cots held four Lost Boys in a tangled heap.
The only ones who slept alone were the catatonic kids who seemed to have
fallen asleep right where Keith had last seen them. As he quietly walked
around the cots, Keith made some mental notes. All of the kids could use some
clean clothes – and a bath. He figured that he might have to settle for just
making them endure having their faces and hands washed.
Heather slipped into the ballroom and joined Keith. “They look so innocent,
don’t they?”
“They are innocent,” Keith said. “I just wish they were all carefree, too.
D’you think it would be too much trouble to have some breakfast foods
available for the kids at lunchtime?”
“I don’t see that as a problem,” Heather said. “What were you thinking of?
“Oh some oatmeal and maybe scrambled eggs, although they’ll probably all just
eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches,” Keith chuckled. “We’ll settle for
just washing their hands and faces before breakfast. After they eat, I’ll have
to figure some way to get them properly bathed and into clean clothes.”
“And they could all use haircuts,” Heather said. “You can hardly tell the boys
from the girls and their hair is so tangled and knotted.”
“Maybe Bubba or Alice will be up to seeing the kids for a little bit,” Keith
mused. “It might help everyone feel a little better to know they’re all safe.”
He stared at the kids for a few moments, rubbing his head as he thought. He
brightened as an idea came to him and turned to Heather. “Look I need a long
length of rope – at least a hundred feet or so, can you get that?”
“I suppose,” Heather replied.
“And, I’ll need a couple dozen carabiners.”
“What?”
“Um, D-rings,” Keith said. “Do you think you can find them?”
“No,” Heather said as she headed towards the door. Before pushing the doors
open, she stopped and added with a smile, “but Dal could.”
Heather and Dal returned about twenty minutes later with the things Keith had
requested. He took the rope and began knotting loops into the rope every three
feet or so. Heather watched him in confusion, but Dal caught on and began
grinning.
“You know, I kind of put two and two together and figured out what you had in
mind,” Dal told Keith.
“Oh?” Keith looked interested.
“So, I brought you a couple dozen of these,” Dal said smugly as he produced
web belts from the bottom of the box the rope had been in. “They’re adult
sized, but all we have to do is move the buckle and cut off the excess.”
About a half-hour before lunch, Keith and Heather began waking the Lost Boys
up and taking them to the restroom off the ballroom to let them relieve
themselves and to wash their faces. The two of them had stacks of hand towels
and washcloths stacked up on the counter beside the sinks. Reactions from the
kids ran the whole gamut of total resistance to eager acceptance and
everything in between. By making as much of a game of the face washing as he
could, Keith did manage to get more giggles than protests. He and Heather
contented themselves with just finger combing the tangled mops on each of the
kids. The catatonic kids were the last ones to get cleaned up. Keith took them
as a group to the bathroom and saw to their needs before washing their faces.
With all the kids kind of washed, Keith stood in the middle of the ballroom
and asked who was ready to have an adventure. Several heads turned excitedly
in his direction, eyes shining with excitement. When Keith repeated the offer,
at least six of the kids charged him jumping up and down, clamoring to share
in the adventure.
“Okay, okay – we’re all going on a great adventure,” Keith promised. “But
first, each of you needs to be fitted with a safety belt.”
One by one the kids were fitted for their belts and Keith got them lined up in
a straight line. He went down the line slipping a D-ring on the left side of
each child and then held up the rope. He showed the kids how to snap their
D-rings onto a loop in the rope.
“See – now we’re all attached to the rope just like mountain climbers and no
one can get lost,” Keith called picking up the first loop in the rope. “Now,
it’s time to move out. Let’s march.”
To Keith’s delight, the kids immediately fell into the spirit of things and
began marching in place, lifting their knees high. When Keith started walking,
they followed happily followed him. Even the six who were catatonic moved
along when the rope pulled at their belts.
Between the musty odors, the magnified echoes of their footsteps in the
corridors, and the weird shadows cast by their lanterns, Ryan was growing more
and more anxious to get out of the building. The hairs on the back of his neck
were standing on end. Jack had already poked around through about seven of the
labs and hadn’t found what he was looking for.
“How much longer are we going to wander around in here?” Ryan whispered.
“Can’t be too much longer,” Jack said. He pointed his lantern towards a door
at the end of the corridor. “Let’s try down there.”
Like most of the other doors, the one at the far end of the corridor had been
thoughtfully locked before the zoo employees had abandoned the zoo for the
last time. Unlike the other doors, this one had two locks on it, which made it
a little harder for Ryan to get it open with the crowbar. After several tries,
Ryan finally managed to pop the door open and Jack eagerly pushed past him
through the doorway. Ryan shone his lantern beam around the room and realized
that he’d just broken into a storeroom. He was just about to suggest looking
somewhere else when he heard Jack shout out in delight from the far end of the
dark, windowless room.
“Ryan, Ryan … bring the crowbar, quick!”
Expecting a door to another room, Ryan was surprised when his lantern beam
revealed that about a third of the room was contained in a mesh cage. Ryan
studied the cage door and brought his heavy booted foot crashing into the
latch. The door flew open and crashed against the mesh cage wall. Jack nearly
knocked Ryan over as he pushed his way into the cage, shining his lantern
around wildly.
“Oh yes! We’ve hit the Mother Lode! Jack exclaimed as he dug through the
canvas bag slung over his shoulder and produced the bolt cutters and quickly
cut the lock off of a glass-fronted cabinet. Ryan hurried over to the cabinet
that Jack had just broken into and stared in stunned silence as Jack produced
a rifle with a telescopic sight.
“I thought the cops and Army guys confiscated all the guns,” Ryan said.
“Yeah, well I was kind of counting on them missing these babies,” Jack said
happily. “These aren’t regular guns – they’re air guns…”
“Pellet guns you mean?” Ryan interrupted. “They won’t do us any good.”
“Not pellet guns, Ryan,” Jack said patiently. “They’re dart guns – these
things shoot tranquilizer darts.” Jack turned his lantern to rows of aluminum
cases and opened several to reveal each contained neat rows of hypodermic
darts. Jack nodded happily. “See if you can find a cart, Ryan. It’ll save us
making more trips than we have to.”
Jack searched around and found six flat foam rubber lined cases that each of
the tranquilizer guns could fit into for transportation. Ryan found a large
rolling cart in one of the labs down the hall and returned to the storeroom to
find that Jack had already made a large stack of boxes to be taken with them.
“What’s in all the boxes?”
“Animal tranquilizers,” Jack replied. “We’re taking it all … well, at least
all that we can in one trip.”
Ryan didn’t bother to argue. He trusted Jack to know what he was doing, so he
just started packing the boxes onto the cart. It took about two hours to get
everything packed into the bed of the pickup truck. While Jack made one last
check of the things he had gathered in the storeroom to make sure that he
hadn’t missed anything, Ryan moved across the drive and stepped behind a tree
to relieve himself. As he was pissing, he absently glanced down at the ground
and almost peed all over his foot. He finished relieving himself and then
crouched down to examine the ground.
“Oh shit,” Ryan said softly. Ryan turned and excitedly called Jack over to
where he was. “Take a look at this, what do you make of it?”
Jack stared down at the ground where Ryan was pointing and shook his head in
wonder. “I’d say that that looks like a cat’s footprint,” he said. “Only it’s
way too big.”
“Not if the cat is something like a lion or tiger,” Ryan said. “It rained like
hell the other night, so that print has to be relatively fresh. But that can’t
be possible. I remember seeing on the TV a report about how all the zoo
animals were either already dying, dead, or about to be killed. They even had
videotape of dead animals.”
Jack stared at the single footprint, deep in thought. “Well,” he said at last,
“it’s possible that the keepers or handlers or whatever they were called just
couldn’t bring themselves to kill the animals. By the Bad Times it pretty much
looked like all people were going to die. Maybe the handlers decided not to
add to the death toll and just opened up the cages. If they did that, some of
the animals were bound to survive – maybe even thrive. There was lots for them
to … well, to eat.”
Ryan began looking around warily. “Look, let’s get back in the truck and get
the hell outta here. If whatever made that print came through here once, it’s
bound to come through here a second or third time.”
“Yeah, okay – let’s just walk over to the truck,” Jack agreed.
“So tell me, what’re you gonna do with the tranquilizer guns?” Ryan asked once
they were moving through the park in the truck.
“Our prisoner said that Gull is supposed to be meeting up with the Werewolf
team,” Jack said.
“Gull,” Ryan repeated. “He’s like The Leader’s big, bad hatchet man isn’t he?”
“Yeah, he’s the one who tortures and castrates prisoners,” Jack said. “He’s
probably the number two man of the Brotherhood by now. Well, we’re going to be
at that rendezvous point and take Gull prisoner.” Jack sat back and smiled.
“That ought to throw The Leader for a loop. He won’t know whether Gull was
captured or whether he sold out.”
“Okay – next question,” Ryan said. “Isn’t it going to be dangerous to use
animal tranquilizers on humans?”
“That can be tricky,” Jack agreed. “But, it’s a risk worth taking. Using the
tranq guns minimizes the risk to our people and we can put the big fish like
Gull on trial for everyone to see.”
“I guess that’ll work,” Ryan agreed. He looked over at Jack. “You know we’ll
have to have a death penalty if you’re going to do that – the trial thing, I
mean.”
“Yeah, I thought about that,” Jack said uncomfortably. “I don’t like the idea
of having a death penalty. But, I can’t see putting anyone in a cage for the
rest of their life either. I can imagine lots of problems with life jail terms
– things like escape would head the list, too.”
“Well, something has to be done, that’s for sure,” Ryan said. “We’ll just have
to work things out on a case-by-case basis. I mean; some people can be
redeemed. And then, some people like Gull and The Leader can’t – it’s really
as simple as that.”
Tyler had finally managed to drift off into a deep dreamless sleep in spite of
the cold floor when he was jerked back to wakefulness by the sound of
shattering glass. Tyler’s eyes almost bugged out of his head when he opened
his eyes and saw what looked like a human wall surging into the shop through
the freshly smashed picture window and door. His muscles were stiff and didn’t
want to work smoothly as he climbed to his feet and tried to pull his machete
from its scabbard.
Denton and Bumper had barely climbed to their feet when they were engulfed by
the mass of screaming people crowding into the coffee shop. Tyler glanced
frantically around for a way to escape and realized that there wasn’t any back
door to the building. He began swinging the machete in a deadly figure-eight
pattern hoping to scare the front row of the people swarming towards him. They
never slowed and several went down with wild screams as Tyler's machete sliced
through flesh. Then a baseball bat from the crowd connected with Tyler’s right
forearm, smashing the bones. The Werewolf felt his hand go numb as the machete
fell from lifeless fingers. And then, the crowd was on top of him, hands were
reaching out to grab, hold, and hit him. He felt blows rain against his face
and back. Suddenly, the blows stopped and Tyler felt hands pulling his arms
behind his back and pinioning them there as the crowd dragged him out into the
street.
Once in the street, Tyler and his companions were roughly thrown down onto the
asphalt. With their whole heads covered in grease paint, it was hard to tell
exactly how injured Denton and Bumper were. From what Tyler could tell
Bumper’s left eye was swollen closed and it looked like there was blood on his
face. Before he could turn to look at Denton, Tyler was once again grabbed
from behind and pulled backwards. His hands were roughly pulled over his head
without any regard to his broken right arm. While his hands were being tied
together, his ankles were being tied together and then a long pole was slid
under his wrists and ankles and Tyler felt himself being lifted up where he
found himself swinging suspended a couple of feet off the ground. Tyler got a
brief glimpse of Denton and Bumper tied to poles in a similar manner and then,
the crowd started moving in silence.
A caterer’s tent had been set up for Zoot in the Square outside of The Inferno
Club. Comfortable, well-padded armchairs sat on a plush Oriental carpet in the
shade under the tent. Freddie, the club manager, crossed the Square to where
Zoot was critically examining the scaffolding that had been erected. As
Freddie approached, Zoot turned to him.
“You mean to tell me that the pipes just fit into those couplings and are
locked in place?” Zoot asked.
“Exactly,” Freddie said. “Once the assemblers got into a groove, the
scaffolding went up in no time at all.”
Ebony pointed to the nooses hanging from the top of the scaffolding. “Those
aren’t proper hangman’s nooses,” she said. “They’re just regular slip nooses.”
“But that’s exactly what Zoot ordered,” Freddie protested.
“That’s right,” Zoot said. That’s exactly what I want.” He looked around and
smiled his most feral smile when he saw the large fifty-gallon trough off to
one side of the scaffolding. “I see you got the trough and managed to have it
filled, Freddie. Good job. Ah, you did get the other things?”
Freddie smiled. “Of course, Zoot. I’d never let you down – they’re on the
other side of the trough.”
Zoot started back to the caterer’s tent when a runner entered the square and
made straight for him. The Loco leader paused and waited for the runner to
draw near.
“Three of the Werewolves have been captured alive, Zoot,” the runner gasped.
“Excellent, excellent,” Zoot replied. “Any news on the others?”
The runner shook his head. “Not yet – but Weasel and Rat are both on the hunt
with their teams. It shouldn’t be long before they find something.”
“How long before the soldiers arrive with their catches?”
The runner studied the sky and the position of the sun. “I’d say just about
lunchtime, or thereabouts, Zoot.”
The runner’s estimate proved to be right on the money. Zoot had just finished
his lunch when the soldiers marched into the Square with their prizes. The
three Werewolves were unceremoniously dumped on the ground in front of the
caterer’s tent. At a sign from Zoot, the three were jerked to their feet.
“Which of you is in charge?” Zoot demanded.
Denton and Bumper shot sideways glances at each other and were surprised when
Tyler took a small step forward. “I’m team leader for this team,” Tyler hissed
as the pain from his arm threatened to overwhelm him again. “Th-there’s…”
“Yes, I know – there are three terror teams and the Werewolf leader,” Zoot
said, grinning at the stunned look in Tyler’s eyes. “I understand that all the
Werewolves are castrated – supposedly it’s supposed to make each of you
tougher and more bloodthirsty.”
“H-how…how do you know that?” Tyler was flabbergasted at how much the Tribe
leader in front of him knew.
“I’m Zoot – leader of the Locos, the strongest Tribe in The City. I make it my
business to know about my enemies. Now, let’s see how good a job they done on
you,” Zoot said motioning to three of his soldiers. “Strip him off right here
and now.”
The soldiers went to work ripping Tyler’s black uniform to shreds. The crowd
that had gathered began moving closer to see if what they had just heard was
really true. Derisive snorts and giggles rippled through the crowd when
Tyler’s black cargo pants were ripped open and his jockey shorts jerked down
to his knees.
“Lookit’im,” a young boy shouted as he stepped away from the crowd, his finger
extended. “He ain’t got no balls hanging atween his legs!” The crowd roared
with laughter at the kid’s observations. Growing bolder, the kid moved closer
and tapped Tyler’s tightly circumcised penis, which had pulled up tight
against his belly in his fear. “Lookit how small his winkle is,” the kid said.
Suddenly, the kid pulled down his pants and showed Tyler and the crowd his own
four-inch penis. “I got more down there ‘n he has!”
The crowd laughed even harder at the kid’s observation, which made him dance
around in a circle while shaking his penis. He had completed two circles
around Tyler when he slammed into Zoot who had moved up to intercept the kid.
“What’s your name, boy?” Zoot asked, staring sternly down at the half-naked
kid.
“Uh…uh, um they call me Rabbit,” the kid answered.
Zoot nodded and then grabbed Rabbit’s dick in his hand and examined it. Then,
he turned and made a show of examining Tyler’s cock. “Whadda you know,” Zoot
called, laughing. “Rabbit is right – he does have more of a dick than this big
bad Werewolf.” Zoot stared at Tyler’s face and turned to the soldiers who had
stripped the Werewolf. “I don’t like all that greasepaint all over his face …
wash it off.”
Grinning, the soldiers dragged Tyler to the trough and stuck his head in the
water, holding Tyler under for a while. The Werewolf was choking and spitting
out water when they finally pulled him from the water and went to work
scrubbing Tyler’s face and head with scrub brushes. By the time the last of
the grease paint was gone, Tyler’s skin was scraped raw in several places and
bleeding in others. The crowd laughed at Tyler’s humiliation and cheered the
soldiers work.
Denton and Bumper received the same treatment that Tyler had undergone. They
were stripped naked in front of an even bigger crowd and had the grease paint
scrubbed roughly from the heads and faces while the gathering laughed and
jeered.
Rat slowly lowered the monocular and pulled the information sheet on the
Werewolves that he had been given from his back pocket and unfolded it. He
squinted at the words and laboriously worked his way through the words. He had
already been to the other potential lairs and found them empty. He was across
the street from the last place on the list, a bridal shop, and scouted it from
about every angle and still couldn’t see any signs that it was inhabited.
“I swear if you don’t take a bath at least once a year, people’ll always smell
you a hunnerd yards away,” a low, hoarse voice said from behind Rat, making
him jump.
“Shit Weasel! You ‘bout scared the shit outta me,” Rat whispered harshly. He
eased back to a sitting position. "Been here long?”
Weasel grinned, showing greenish teeth. “I think I got here ‘bout the same
time you did,” he pointed vaguely in the direction opposite from the way Rat
had come in. “I come up from t’other direction is all.”
“Yeah, well all our skulkin’ an’ sneakin’ around was for nuttin,” Rat snorted.
“This is the last place on the list and them Werewolfs ain’t here.”
Weasel flashed his green teeth in a silent grin. “Oh they’re here a’right …
they just ain’t where ya ‘spect ‘em t’ be … ya just gotta know where t’ look
and they’re easy t’ find. Ya gotta look on the right side o’ the street first
off.”
“Ya mean they’re on the same side o’ the street as us?”
“Yep … just a few doors down th’ street as a matter o’ fact. C’mon, I’ll show
ya.”
It took almost ten minutes for Weasel to lead their way around the block,
across the street and down to the back alley behind the shops across from
them. He led Rat through the open back window of what had once been a small
sandwich shop. The two of them wended their way through the kitchen, which
smelled of foodstuffs long since rotted and food for maggots. Coming into the
seating area, Weasel dropped to his belly and insisted Rat follow his example.
Together they scooted across the filthy floor on their bellies to the low
front window. Weasel eased up until just his eyes were above the lower edge of
the window and pointed to the neighborhood beauty shop across the street.
“I worked my way over there, earlier,” Rat explained. “Had a peep through the
winder an’ seen four of ‘em. Three snoozin’ in the beauty chairs and one
snoozin’ on the little sofa in the waiting area.”
Rat had his monocular and was carefully examining the building across the
street. “Uh uh,” he said shaking his head. “Don’t see it … don’t see nuttin’…
uh, hold on a sec … yeah, yeah I see ‘em. Why d’ya figger they moved after
choosin’ this place in the first place?”
“I think the dude in charge jus’ took out a little extra insurance,” Weasel
speculated. “He can’t be sure that missin’ team wasn’t caught and made t’
talk. So, they gets here and he decides t’ play it a little extra safe an’
move crost th’ street. It’s more comfortable and he can see this place when
the other teams get here for a meetin’ or whatever they do…’
“So … didja send a messenger back t’ Zoot?”
“First thing,” Weasel said proudly. “Now, all we gotta do is wait.”
Prometheus found that he didn’t really mind the must and mold of the
comfortable sofa that he had commandeered as his bed. It was far more
comfortable than the floor … even the salon chairs that the third team were
snoozing away in had to be more comfortable than the floors on which they’d
been sleeping. He wondered what had happened to Cullen’s terror team – he
simply couldn’t imagine the possibility that some City Tribe had captured all
three Werewolves. It was possible that all three had been seriously injured or
even killed in some accident. There were plenty of dangers that could easily
claim three or even thirty people if just one of them wasn’t careful. For
instance, he reminded himself, a fire escape could have collapsed sending all
three tumbling to the street or alley below. The Werewolf leader snorted in
amusement – it was more likely that Tyler was right and that Cullen had simply
managed to get his team hopelessly lost.
The Werewolf leader sat up and stretched, yawning widely. He was debating
opening his rations and eating something when he became aware of a steady,
rhythmic thumping coming from outside. He glanced out the window and didn’t
see anything but the empty street. He decided to head up to the roof and see
what the sound was. As he crossed to the steps leading up to the roof, he
slapped Danny’s boot and whispered for him to take over the watch.
Prometheus hurried up the steps all the way to the door on the top floor that
opened onto the roof. Reaching the door, Prometheus turned the knob and pushed
the door open and found about two dozen Locos staring at him. Prometheus
instantly extended his fingers and realized that he had taken off his clawed
gloves. Shouting as loud as he could, the Werewolf charged the Loco nearest to
him, grabbing for the aluminum baseball bat and wresting it from the startled
soldier’s hands. He swung the bat at the Loco’s head and connected with a
sharp crack. He pulled the bat back for another strike and the Locos recovered
from their surprise and moved on him.
The Locos concentrated jabbing and swinging their bats against Prometheus’
midsection and arms. Each of them remembered Zoot’s warnings that he didn’t
want the legs of the Werewolves broken and he certainly didn’t want their
skulls crushed. Zoot’s plans called for the Werewolves to be taken alive. They
stepped over the body of their fallen comrade and closed tight on Prometheus,
making it impossible for him to pull the bat back for another strike.
In spite of the overwhelming odds against him, Prometheus refused to simply
surrender. He tried to kick, jab with the bat, and even bite. Prometheus
snarled savagely and almost dropped to his knees when a bat was jabbed
painfully into his right kidney. He staggered and tried to spin around to face
the attacker with the bat, but Loco hands grabbed at him holding him in place
and preventing him from using his arms. Prometheus felt himself being forced
to lean backwards farther and farther until he found himself flat on his back
on the roof. Tears of rage and frustration ran down his face as he felt
leather straps being pulled tight around his legs. Five minutes later
Prometheus was fully bound and helpless.
Danny sat in the salon chair shaking his head trying to clear it after
Prometheus had awakened him early. He took a deep breath filling his lungs
with fresh air, held it for a moment, and exhaled. He decided that he could
stay in the chair and keep watch just as well as he could standing up. He
looked out the window and didn’t notice anything strange, so he leaned back in
the chair and concentrated on keeping his eyes open until Prometheus returned.
Danny’s eyes were just beginning to drift closed when he became aware of some
kind of ruckus on the roof. He came awake instantly and shouted for Tucker and
Ricky to wake up. Danny was just reaching for his survival knife when the
glass window shattered and a screaming army wielding baseball bats came
pouring through. Danny slashed wildly at the crowd with his knife and was
rewarded when one of the soldiers screamed in pain and grabbed his forearm.
Danny tried to slash out again, but powerful hands were had grabbed his arm
and beat it against the counter until the blade fell from his numb and
battered hand.
Looking over to his fellow Werewolves, Danny saw that he couldn’t expect any
help from that direction. Tucker was on the floor on his hands and knees as a
group of invaders repeatedly kicked him in the sides. Ricky hadn’t even made
it out of the chair before he was swarmed and pinned down.
When Ryan and Jack returned to the Queen Mary, they rushed to get their new
finds secured in Jack’s workshop. Both had nearly forgotten about the memorial
services for the three Shiprats who had been lost. Jack was just locking his
workshop when Heather found him.
“I can’t believe you went off on some scrounging mission, Jack! It’s almost
like you purposely tried to forget about the funeral.”
“Maybe you’re right,” Jack said pensively. “Maybe I was purposely trying not
to remember about the funeral today.”
“Jack! Why on earth would you want to do something like that?” Heather was
shocked to hear Jack’s admission.
Jack looked her, his eyes moist and sad. “Maybe it’s because if I don’t
remember that their funerals are today, then I don’t have to face up to the
fact that they’re dead and I’ll never see any of them again.” Jack turned
absently and started to wander out onto the Boat Deck while still talking. “So
much has been happening since that night that it doesn’t seem real. But, the
funeral will force all of us to face up to the fact that Sasha, Peter, and
Jordan are never coming back and we’ll never see them again.” He leaned
heavily against the railing, his hands balled into fists and shoved deep in
his pockets, and his head bowed. He looked sideways over at Heather. “I loved
him, you know.”
“I knew that you and Sasha were friends. I didn’t know that you loved him,”
Heather said. “Forget I said anything, Jack. Sometimes I open my mouth without
thinking.”
“No, no – you’re right,” Jack said hurriedly, taking her hand between his. “I
need to be there to say goodbye to my friends – if I didn’t show up, I’d never
feel right with them.” He tenderly stroked her cheek and kissed her. “Thanks
for being a friend and reminding me of my priorities.”
Jack stood at the bottom of the gangway and marveled at the wide array of
outfits chosen as funeral clothing by the different members of the Tribe.
Amber was swathed in yards and yards of black lace and a black veil covered
her face. Standing next to her, Dal was dressed in a black Prince Albert coat,
a tall black Victorian-style top hat covering his head. Keith had on a high
necked scarlet waist jacket trimmed in gold braid and dark blue uniform
trousers with a gold stripe down the outside seam of each leg. Brandon looked
like a medieval serf in a dark gray cowl that hid his scarred face. The
representatives of the Farm Tribe were all dressed alike in black turtlenecks,
black trousers (Lucy opted for a black ankle length skirt) and black
lumberjack boots that reached almost to their knees. Jack had expected Lars
and Tai San to show up in plain robes and was surprised when Lars appeared
dressed like a pirate with a huge great coat, ruff, breeches, and soft boots
with the tops rolled over. Tai San wore a billowy white blouse with a tight
black leather vest and velvet trousers tucked into boots like those Lars wore.
Seeing the wide range of styles in clothing choices, put Jack’s mind at ease
about his own choice of clothing. He was wearing a black riding coat, silk
scarf, riding breeches, and knee high riding boots.
One by one everyone silently took their places around the wooden-wheeled cart
that carried the three caskets. Lars, Jonah, and Brandon had made the simple
wooden caskets from hardwood they had gotten from one of the old lumberyards.
The caskets, polished to a high shine, were simple and dignified. Jack took
his place at the front of the cart and laid his hands on the traces, ready to
pull it the short distance to the hillside where three holes had been dug.
Curious traders left their stands and carts and drifted along in the wake of
the solemn procession in respectful silence.
“I don’t have to tell any of you why we’re here,” Jack said after each of the
caskets had been lowered into the ground. “It’s time to say goodbye to three
of our good friends – Peter, Sasha, and Jordan. They shared the same dream we
all share – the dream that together we can make this New World a better place.
A place where we can one day raise families and live in peace and harmony. I
think that we should promise them and each other that we will remember them
always and to work together to keep the dream of a better tomorrow alive.”
Jack rubbed the heel of his hand against his eyes. “So for now, goodbye Jordan
… Peter … Sasha …we didn’t have nearly enough time together, dammit.”
Zoot stared hard at the naked Werewolf leader. Zoot was impressed that
Prometheus seemed not to be aware of the fresh scratches and places were his
skin was rubbed raw from the scrub brushes that had been used on him to remove
the greasepaint on his face and head. Zoot grudgingly admired the way
Prometheus had endured the humiliation of being stripped naked in front of a
growing crowd in the middle of the square and then paraded around so that
everyone could get a good look at his shrunken penis. Zoot leaned forward to
get a good look at it, himself.
“What is that thing an inch … inch and a half long?”
Prometheus shrugged. “Don’t know … I never bothered to measure it.”
Zoot grinned at the Werewolf leader’s response. “I think I could have really
liked you,” he said smoothly. “You got attitude and I like that.” He leaned
back in his chair and regarded Prometheus carefully. “I’m really tempted to
offer you a pardon just to have you as a fighter in the Locos. You’d be an
excellent addition to the Tribe.”
“But you won’t,” Prometheus said with calm disdain.
“Why not?”
“Because you’d never know when I’d turn on you and rip your throat out as you
slept,” Prometheus said.
“And you would give it a try,” Zoot said. “Aren’t you afraid of what I have
planned for you?”
Prometheus considered the question as he regarded Zoot. The truth was that he
was afraid. He knew that Zoot planned to kill him – it’s what the Brotherhood
would do to Zoot if their places were reversed. Prometheus thought about what
Gull would do if he were in the same situation and the fear began to diminish.
He knew exactly what the Enforcer leader would do – he’d smile in Zoot’s face
and show no fear. Hell, Gull would probably spit right in Zoot’s face.
Suddenly, he wasn’t afraid of Zoot’s plans anymore – he was more afraid of
shaming the Brotherhood and more importantly, his mentor Gull. Finally, he
shook his head. “No, no … I don’t think so. I was afraid that I might do
something to bring shame to The Leader or the Brotherhood, but not of what’s
going to happen to me. The Great Phoenix will be waiting to carry me to the
Pantheon of Heroes so long as I don’t shame myself.”
“Man, they really got into your head but good,” Zoot said. He motioned to one
of the guards and whispered in his ear. The guard nodded and hurried off to
carry out his orders. Zoot rose from his chair and stepped out from under the
caterer’s tent into the afternoon sun. He looked around for a few moments,
then gestured that the guards should get the prisoner. Zoot calmly strolled
across the square to the scaffolding while three guards carried Prometheus
along a few paces behind Zoot.
When the guards set him down, Prometheus stared at the makeshift gallows. A
plywood platform was situated in the middle of the scaffolding. The guards
lifted their prisoner onto the platform. Instead of a trapdoor, a six-foot
square had been cut in the middle of the platform and what looked like a
sandbag filled the center of the hole. Prometheus snorted in contempt – these
punks couldn’t even bother building a proper gallows. That’s what Gull would
have done. Instead of releasing a trapdoor, the Locos planned to just jerk the
sandbag out from under him. The noose was a simple slipknot rather than a
proper hangman’s knot.
“Gather ‘round, gather ‘round,” Zoot called as the guards lifted Prometheus
onto the sandbags and slipped the noose over his head. “This piece of shit
before you is the leader of the so-called Werewolves who invaded The City to
kill and maim so many of our friends. As you can see, the Locos have brought
them to justice.” Zoot clapped his hands. “Now the time has come to place your
bets on how long it will take for him to die. If you look to the left, you’ll
see Freddie, the club manager, with two of the pit bosses – just head right
over there and place your bets.”
Prometheus watched as crowds rushed the gaming tables to place their bets.
Even a short drop would be enough to break his neck – his death was going to
be quick. Zoot’s soldiers would yank out the sandbags and he’d drop, the rope
would jerk, and he’d be done for. End of story. He glanced contemptuously at
Zoot who was staring up at him with a strange smile on his face. For the first
time since his capture, Prometheus felt a faint chill of fear.
The last bet was placed and Freddie gave Zoot the high sign that he could
begin. “Okay, everyone has their betting slips, right? Remember you can’t
collect your winnings if you misplace or lose your ticket. Now, let’s see
who’s going to collect.”
Prometheus closed his eyes and braced himself for the short, violent jerk as
the sandbags were pulled away. Nothing happened. Opening his eyes, the
Werewolf leader saw that Zoot had pulled a large Bowie knife from its scabbard
and leaning over, he jabbed the knife into the sandbag. Sand began to spill
out onto the ground.
Zoot stood in front of Prometheus and gave him a wicked smile. “You’re not
going to have the luxury of a snapped neck and a quick death,” he said.
“You’re going to go slowly and suffer – not as much as you made other people
suffer, but it’s a start.”
Luke asked the Shiprat leaders and advisors to stay behind in the Dining Room
after the post-funeral reception dinner. Amber suggested moving to the Lounge
where the furniture was more comfortable and the space wasn’t quite as large.
Heather slipped away to make more coffee before going to relieve Selene so she
could hear whatever it was that was on Luke’s mind. Once everyone was settled
in the Lounge, Luke stood in front of the fireplace and looked slowly around
the room.
“I, uh, I guess … um, well, I guess I want to ask a question, make an offer,
and make an announcement,” Luke stammered.
“Which do you want to do first?” Selene asked.
“Um, well what I want to know is what you’re going to do about the
Brotherhood,” Luke said. “And, whatever you decide to do, the Farm Tribe will
back you all the way.” Jack quietly slipped from the Lounge while Luke was
stammering out his offer. “And finally, Lucy and I have been talking – we’ve
decided to start a family. And, I think Benny is thinking along the same lines
– there’s a new girl out at the Farm and the two of them are inseparable.”
Amber let out a cry of delight and grabbed Lucy’s hands. “Congratulations –
what a wonderful idea. I’m so happy for you.” Lucy leaned closer as if sharing
a confidence, but didn’t bother to lower her voice. “Dal and I are going to
have a baby.”
The Lounge erupted in excited chatter. Until then, Amber had insisted on
keeping the news between her, Dal, and Jack. Luke’s nervousness over speaking
in front of everyone disappeared as he joined Lucy in congratulating Amber and
Dal. Everyone wanted to know how far along Amber was, whether she knew what
sex baby she wanted yet, and much more. As they were asking all the questions
that popped into their heads, Jack slipped back into the Lounge carrying one
of the dart gun cases. After a few minutes Dal noticed Jack’s return.
“Jack, Luke and Lucy have decided to start a family!” Dal shouted.
“Cool – congratulations you two,” Jack said. He faced Luke directly. “Would
your plans for a family have anything to do with wanting to know what we had
planned for the Brotherhood?”
“Well … yeah,” Luke admitted. “It would be risky to bring a baby into this
world if The Leader and the Brotherhood is likely to run roughshod over our
Tribes.” Luke looked suddenly embarrassed. “Up until now, we’ve all been
letting the Brotherhood bring the war to us…” his voice trailed off as his
face flushed a bright red. He quickly sat down. “I didn’t mean it the way it
came out,” he mumbled.
“You’re right,” Jack said. “We HAVE been letting The Leader call the shots up
‘till now. We’ve been so busy planning for a peaceful future that we ignored
the fact that a dangerous enemy was already bringing the war right to us.”
Jack stared each one of them in the eye. “That has to stop right now. It’s
time we took the war to them.”
Amber jumped up from her seat in horror. “NO! Jack you can’t even think of
suggesting such a thing!” Dal leapt to his feet and put his arms around Amber.
He stared pensively at his friend, but didn’t say anything.
Tai San rose and took Amber’s hand protectively. “Amber is right, Jack,” she
said. “You’ve been running on hardly any sleep for the past several days. I
hate to say it, but it’s obvious that you’re not thinking clearly.”
“We’ve all been under a lot of stress recently,” Selene said softly. “Maybe
it’s possible that you’re not thinking totally rationally, Jack, and you’re in
an emotional state because of what happened to Sasha and Bray and the others.”
“Do you have any idea what you’re suggesting, Jack? Have you stopped to think
of the consequences of what you’re suggesting? You just want revenge!”
Jack pursed his lips as he listened to Selene, nodding his head slowly. “I
don’t want to seem arrogant, I think I’m safe in saying that I’m one of the
few people in this room who has rationally thought this all out.” Amber opened
her mouth to interrupt, but Jack held his hand up. “Hear me out.” He rubbed
his face and paced back and forth, taking deep breaths before turning and
facing everyone again.
“Okay, Amber you’re right. I do want revenge for what was done to Sasha,
Peter, and Jordan. They weren’t just friends or Tribe mates – they were part
of our family and they were taken away from us. I really don’t feel like
letting the people behind that abomination get away with that.
“Most of you didn’t see what those Werewolves did to the Lost Boys – you
didn’t see how they were tortured and torn apart. I did. I want somebody to
pay for that.
“Those are just some of the things that the Brotherhood has already done. Let
me tell you what they have in mind for the future – they plan to move on The
City and soon. And when they get here, those that they don’t enslave, they
plan to kill.”
“You can’t know that fir sure,” Lucy said uncertainly.
“Sure I can,” Jack said. “I got that straight from one of the Werewolves. He
doesn’t know all of the plans, but he was able to tell me enough to make me
realize the very real danger we’re in.” Jack rubbed his face again. “About the
future – Amber, you and Dal are already expecting a baby. Luke and Lucy are
planning on starting a family soon. How many others will want the same thing?
It’s the right thing to want – it’s something we had to face sooner or later.
Starting families is our future.” Jack walked over to stand in front of Amber
and Dal. “I love you both and I’m going to love your child – your children –
because I hope you two have a huge family.” Jack’s face flushed with color and
his voice got thick for a moment. Maybe I could be kind of like an uncle to
them.” He turned away wiping at his face. “So, what kind of friend would I be
to let that kind of a risk hang over you?”
Amber looked down at the floor and slowly sank back to the loveseat where she
and Dal had been sitting and buried her face in her hands. Finally, she looked
up and spoke in a small, frightened voice. “I didn’t think about any of that.”
“You shouldn’t have to,” Jack said. He took a deep breath. “So – those were
some of the emotional reasons for taking fight to the Brotherhood. Now, for
the rational ones….”
“I don’t think we need them, Jack,” Luke said.
“I think some people might,” Jack countered. “Our two Tribes are centered
around creation and improvement and nurturing. It’s almost like it’s the major
reason for us to exist. We want to make life better – better for ourselves,
the people around us, and more importantly, for the people to come after us.”
“What has the Brotherhood created?” Dal asked. He answered his own question.
“Absolutely nothing – at least, nothing positive. Their whole record is one of
destruction – they’re like a new plague.”
“But, why do we have to take the fight to them, as Jack put it?” Tai San
asked. “Couldn’t we simply act defensively as the situation demands?”
“We could,” Jack said. “But, doing it that way we run the risk of more people
being hurt and even killed and we’d never stop the Brotherhood. They’d
eventually overwhelm us. It’s like treating a disease, Tai San; it’s not
enough to just treat the symptoms. To effect a cure, you have to treat the
root cause.”
Tai San looked hard at Jack. “Do you have a plan to lower the risk to our
people?”
For the first time Jack smiled smugly. “Oh yeah,” he retrieved the large flat
case and laid it on a side table. Unlatching the case, he opened the lid and
lifted out the air rifle.
“It’s a gun!” Luke said in amazement. “I thought they’d all been collected and
destroyed.”
“It’s not a regular rifle,” Ryan said. “It’s a tranquilizer gun. Jack and I
collected them from the zoo earlier today.”
“What good will that do?” Luke asked in confusion.
Jack’s grin grew broader. “Just because I said that it was time to take the
fight to them, doesn’t mean I want us to stand toe to toe with trained
killers. We take the fight to them – but, we make sure it’s the fight we want
to fight and it’s by our rules.”
“Okay, that makes sense,” Luke said. “So, how do these tranquilizer guns come
into the plan?”
“In a couple of days one of the major players and supporters of The Leader – a
guy named Gull and a couple of other Brothers are going to be a rendezvous
point to meet the Werewolves and escort them back to their headquarters.” Jack
lifted the air rifle. “We have six of these. Five others and I will be waiting
in ambush at the rendezvous point. We tranq them and capture Gull.”
Dal was smiling as he nodded his head. Jack’s plan made sense to him. “You
sold me, count me in.”
Jack shook his head. “No way, Dal. You’re out and so are you, Luke.”
“What do you mean?” Dal protested.
“Who do you think you are telling me if I’m in or out,” Luke asked furiously.
“Think about it you two,” Jack said reasonably. “Dal, you’re already a father-
in-waiting. Luke, you plan to be shortly. That makes you two and your partners
among the most important commodities in our Tribes. You represent our future,
so that means you have to be protected.”
Dal and Luke both grumbled about being able to take care of themselves, but
had to reluctantly admit the wisdom of Jack’s logic. Amber and Lucy, on the
other hand, were openly thankful for Jack’s stance – it took one major worry
off the shoulders of each.
After the impromptu meeting adjourned, Dal found Jack sitting next to a
sleeping Bray. Jack was holding his lover’s hand and speaking softly to him.
Dal hung back and was about to ease his way back out the door when he realized
that Jack was discussing his plans with Bray as if Bray could actually
respond. Since the night of the attack, Bray had had only a few brief periods
of lucid consciousness. He was in the grip of a high fever and the wound was
showing signs of infection. Dal began to quietly back from the room.
“You don’t have to leave, Dal. This isn’t a private conversation, you’re
welcome to join us,” Jack said without turning his head.
Dal was flabbergasted. “How – how did you know I was back here?”
Jack looked over his shoulder and gave his friend a tired smile. “Nothing to
it. When you got dressed for the services, you put on some cologne. I smelled
you when you came in.”
Dal took a chair on the opposite side of the bed and looked down at Bray.
“How’s he doing?”
“Pretty much the same,” Jack said. “His fever hasn’t risen, but it’s not going
down, either. He lost a lot of blood, it’s going to be a long, slow recovery
for him.” Jack brushed a stray lock of hair from Bray’s forehead. “I don’t
really think Bray’s able to understand the words, but I’m pretty sure that he
knows when someone is talking to him, so I try to talk to him for a couple of
hours a day. And, it makes me feel good to be able to talk to him.”
“Do you talk about anything in particular?”
Jack grinned. “It depends on what’s on my mind. Just now I was telling him
that I think that Selene has a crush on Ryan.”
“You think so?” Dal was surprised that Jack had even noticed – normally Jack
was the last person to take notice of things like that.
“Yeah, I do. Not only that, but I think Ryan feels the same way.”
“You’re kidding! Do you really think so?”
“I could be wrong about that, I usually am when it comes to relationships, but
yeah I do think Ryan has feelings for Selene.”
“So why hasn’t he said or done something, do you think?” Dal asked.
“Ryan’s a eunuch,” Jack said bluntly.
“What difference should that make?”
“It shouldn’t make any, but does Ryan think the same way? I think he’s afraid
that because he can’t give Selene at least one baby she would rather have
someone else over him.” He sighed. “Ryan’s a lot smarter than he usually gives
himself credit for, but sometimes he’s just downright dumb.”
“Yeah – as I remember it, I wasn’t that much better off than Ryan in that
department. I needed a good swift kick in the ass to get me to make a move. I
think it’s time I returned the favor.”
Tyler was able to close his eyes and hang his head so that he didn’t have to
watch the spectacle of Prometheus kicking and flailing as the sand spilled out
of the bag dropping him lower and as the rope tightened around his neck. Even
though he could close his eyes, Tyler found that he couldn’t close his ears
and didn’t know which sounds were the worse to hear – the sounds of Prometheus
choking and gasping for air or the sounds of the crowd cheering and jeering.
Tyler didn’t know how long the cheering lasted. But as suddenly as it had
started, it stopped. Opening his eyes, the Werewolf stared at the sight before
him. Prometheus hung limply from the scaffold, his head twisted grotesquely to
one side. Zoot and Ebony stood in front of Prometheus sipping drinks and
laughing. Eventually they tired of the sight before them and turned and began
walking down the line of prisoners.
“Eenie, meenie, miney, moe,” Ebony called out in a happy singsong voice. “Pick
a Werewolf by the toe. If he hollers, let him go…”
“Straight to the scaffold,” Zoot joked.
Ebony stopped in front of Tyler and insolently examined him from head to toe.
She reached out and patted his cheek. “This one is kind of cute without all
that stupid makeup all over his face, Zoot. Look at those big, brown puppy dog
eyes and those apple cheeks.” She ran he hand over his head, feeling the rough
stubble of the five o’clock shadow that covered it. “I bet he looked cute with
hair.”
“Are you trying to talk me into letting this one live, Ebony?” Zoot teased as
he nuzzled Ebony’s ear and looked down at Tyler. “Don’t forget that these dogs
are wild – they’re prone to biting and attacking the hand that feeds them.”
“Maybe,” Ebony said, the singsong tone coming back in her voice. “But, I think
it might be fun to try to tame him and teach him who’s boss.” She trailed her
long; sharp red nails down Tyler’s bare chest, teasing each of his nipples,
talking about how interesting his nipples would look pierced with gold rings.
She continued letting her hand drop down towards his belly and past, until she
was playing with his flaccid penis. “I’ve heard that a guy’s dick will shrink
if he gets his jewels cut off,” Ebony said as she pulled and stretched Tyler’s
penis out as far as she could. “But, I swear yours must have been small and
thin even before you had your balls lopped off. I can’t believe any normal
sized dick would shrink this much!”
While Ebony and Zoot laughed at her little joke and kissed, Tyler summoned up
all of his courage and strained until he was able to produce a couple of drops
of urine. Then, he was able to force a steady stream of urine all over Ebony’s
hand, which was still wrapped around his penis. She screamed and jerked her
hand away and stood glaring at the prisoner in front of her.
Zoot backhanded Tyler while screaming for his guards to release Tyler from the
pole and move him onto the next platform.
“Wait!” Ebony purposefully stepped up toe-to-toe with Tyler, wiped her wet
hand across his face and head and grinned right in his face. “I really do want
this one spared. I want to make him into a human puppy dog,” she grabbed his
dick again and squeezed it, “and I want to start with having this worthless
thing cut off.”
“Are you sure?” Zoot asked.
“Oh yes,” Ebony said. “I’m going to teach him what real humility is all
about.”
Zoot turned to Freddie. “Have someone bring Doc here right now.”
George “Doc” Fisher nervously ran his hands through his dyed yellow shoulder-
length hair as he listened to Zoot’s instructions. His total qualifications
for having the position of Loco Tribe doctor thrust upon him was the fact that
before the virus, he had completed a Red Cross First Aid training class. He
was able to sew up severe cuts and set simple fractures, take a pulse, and
actually use a blood pressure cuff. Anything beyond those rudimentary skills
and he was out of his depth. Zoot’s order to have Tyler’s penis cut off was
definitely beyond his abilities and he tried to explain that to the Loco
leader.
“It’s not that I’m not willing to do what you want,” Doc said quickly. “It’s
just that I don’t have the necessary skills to do it right. To do a penectomy
you have to know how to move the urethra…”
“Why?” Zoot interrupted.
“So that the patient can urinate without making a mess all over himself,” Doc
said. “If the urethra is moved, he can sit down to pee. I don’t know how to do
that – and even if I did, I don’t have the skills to do it.”
“So why can’t you just leave the urethra where it is?”
“Because when he peed, the stream would go straight out in front of him. He
wouldn’t be able to sit down and use a toilet properly,” Doc explained.
“Who cares?” Ebony asked. “He’s going to become a human puppy dog – he’s not
going to be allowed to use a toilet. He’ll be taken outside to pee in the
gutter or grass like a real dog.”
“Let me make it easy on you, Doc,” Zoot said, his voice dropping and taking on
a menacing tone. “Either you perform the operation now, or you’ll find
yourself strapped down to the table while your own dick is cut off.” Zoot
offered his most feral smile. “It’s your choice.”
Ryan was topping off the pickup truck’s gas tank and checking all of the fluid
levels when Luke found him. The farmer happily pitched in, checking the
transmission and radiator fluid levels and tire pressure. Ryan watched Luke
carefully – the farmer was doing the work properly, but he seemed preoccupied.
“Still a little ranked off by what Jack said?” Ryan asked.
“Huh? What?” Luke looked up in surprise and then gave a rueful chuckle. “It’s
pretty obvious, I guess.”
“Yeah – can’t blame you for being ranked off. Then again, Jack certainly makes
a very good point.” Ryan said carefully.
“Yeah – and you know what? That’s what really hacks me off,” Luke admitted.
“He’s right – what kind of a father would I be if I got Lucy pregnant and then
got myself killed before the kid was born? And, I wouldn’t be any kind of
decent father if I helped bring a kid into the world and didn’t do anything to
stop the Brotherhood.”
“Kind of damned if you do and damned if you don’t,” Ryan said, wiping the
dipstick clean on a rag and sliding it back into the motor.
“I’m sure Jack’s going to be taking part in this little operation,” Luke
sighed. “I have to say that I’m not so sure what good he’s going to be. I
mean, I can’t imagine that he’s likely to be too good a shot.” Ryan tried to
choke back a belly laugh and just ended up snorting like a rutting boar.
“What’s so funny?”
“Believe me, if Jack’s only half as good with one of those tranquilizer guns
as he is with a crossbow, he’s gonna be a helluva lot better than anyone
else,” Ryan assured the farmer.
“You’re kidding!”
“Hand to God,” Ryan said solemnly as he held his hand up. “Picture this – it’s
dark, Jack’s running through all these stalled cars with a loaded crossbow. He
gets into range, leaps onto the hood and then onto the roof of a car, aims and
fires that weapon all in one smooth move and puts the bolt clean through the
Werewolf’s heart.”
“I never would have thought it,” Luke said in amazement.
“I was there and it still blows my mind,” Ryan said sincerely.
Tyler screamed, begged, and attempted to struggle as Zoot’s soldiers lifted
him bodily into the air and carried him to the stainless steel restaurant
table that had been brought out into the square. The crowd cheered the
soldiers and jeered Tyler. The more he screamed, the louder they cheered. The
soldiers slammed him down onto the table and positioned him so that his knees
were even with the edge of the table and his feet hung over the edge. Holding
him firmly in place, the Loco soldiers yanked his legs wide apart and tied
them securely to the steel legs of the table. Handcuffs were snapped onto each
wrist and lengths of rope were looped through the empty manacle on each set of
cuffs. The ropes were then tied to the table legs on the other end of the
table, leaving the Werewolf spread eagle and helpless on the table.
“You can’t do this to me!” Tyler screamed. “It’s inhuman … you can’t…”
“Oh, but we can,” Ebony assured Tyler, leaning over him. “You might as well
get used to the idea.” She turned to Doc. “Okay – we’re ready here, get on
with it.”
“Okay, okay … I’m going to do my best, but you do understand that it’s not
going to be perfect,” Doc explained nervously.
“Will his dick be gone?” Zoot asked.
“Well, yeah it will be.”
“Then as far as I’m concerned, the job will be perfect.”
Mumbling to instructions to himself, Doc picked up a bottle of rubbing alcohol
and poured it liberally over Tyler’s crotch. He took Tyler’s penis in one hand
and held it straight up and poured more alcohol over it causing Tyler to
scream in pain as some of the alcohol got into the piss slit of his dick and
burned the delicate membranes.
“Surgical field sterilized,” Doc muttered. “At least as sterilized as it’s
gonna be.” He looked over the tools and instruments on the equipment tray
sitting on the table. “Um … um … oh yeah!” He lifted a steel rod from the
tray. “Gotta insert the … uh … the rod here into his dick.”
“Oh no! Please don’t do this to me,” Tyler sobbed. His cries turned to high-
pitched girlish screams of pain and terror as Doc pushed the rod further and
further through Tyler’s urethra.
Ebony slapped Tyler’s head. “What are you carrying on about? You don’t have
any balls … what good does having a dick do you, huh? That little wiener down
there between your legs is useless. You should be thanking Doc for getting rid
of it for you. He’s doing you a favor.”
Somehow, Tyler didn’t see things in the same way and began screaming even more
when he saw Doc lift the scalpel. Standing to one side of the table, Ebony
leaned back against Zoot’s chest and watched impassively as Doc began cutting
at the mushroom head of Tyler’s cock by making a subincision and splitting the
top of the dick head in two. Doc cut all the way down until he felt the steel
rod through the blade in his hand. He used the steel rod as a guide in
splitting Tyler’s dick in half. Doc seemed to gain confidence as he continued
slicing through the shaft, taking the incision all the way down to Tyler’s
belly.
“Looks like you’re doing a great job, Doc,” Zoot said with real admiration.
“Thanks,” Doc paused long enough to look up at the Loco leader and smile his
appreciation and then he returned to work tracing his blade around the
circumference of the Werewolf’s dick. He ignored Tyler’s frenzied screams and
drew Tyler’s severed penis up the shaft of the rod a few inches. Seeing his
penis pulled away from his body, Tyler fainted.
“That’s a relief,” Doc quipped. “He was beginning to give me a headache.”
“So what’s next?” Zoot asked with interest.
“I dunno what’s supposed to come next,” Doc said. “I’m sure there’s a couple
of more steps that should be done. But, since I don’t know what they are and
since his dick has already been removed, I’m going to close up the incision.”
Zoot looked down at Ebony who shrugged. “Sounds good to us,” Zoot said. “Keep
up the good work, Doc.”
For this step, Doc was almost dripping confidence. He was on familiar ground
sewing up incisions and he worked smoothly. Finally, he pulled the steel rod
out of Tyler and bandaged the former Werewolf’s groin. “There you go! One
totally neutered pet for you Ebony,” Doc announced stepping away from the
table.
Looking in on Bray, Selene found Jack sitting slumped over in the chair, his
head resting on Bray’s bed. She wondered just how much sleep Jack had
permitted himself over the last few days. She knew that it couldn’t have been
much at all. She tiptoed across the room and started to reach out to wake
Jack.
“Let him stay.”
Startled, Selene looked down to find that Bray was awake. His voice was weak
and so soft it hardly carried across the bed. “Bray – you’re awake. How are
you feeling?”
“Like shit,” Bray tried to smile and only managed to barely lift the left
corner of his mouth. “I think I’ve probably felt worse, but I can’t for the
life of me remember when.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “What
about the others?”
“You just need to concern yourself with getting better,” Selene said trying to
dodge the question.
Bray closed his eyes again and weakly shook his head. When he opened his eyes,
tears were welling up in them. “It’s that bad, huh? C’mon Selene, don’t lie to
me.”
Lips pressed tightly together, Selene quickly nodded. “We lost some people
that night, Bray.” She didn’t want to go on, but she found that she couldn’t
resist the pleading look in Bray’s eyes. “Peter, Jordan, and Sasha were
killed.”
“Keith – that must have torn him apart,” Bray whispered. “How is he doing?”
“Don’t worry about him, Bray,” Selene said gently. “He’s being kept busy. I’ll
tell you all about that later. Jack and Dal will kill me if you don’t rest
quietly.”
“Okay,” Bray gasped weakly. “I am tired.”
“You just try to go back to sleep, Bray,” Selene said softly. “I’ll stay right
here until you drift off.”
Jack woke to find Bray stroking his hair. “’Bout time you woke up,
sleepyhead,” Bray murmured, his eyes twinkling.
Jack’s face practically radiated delight as he threw his arms around Bray and
covered his lover’s face with kisses. Moments later, Jack was all business as
he insisted on taking Bray’s vital signs and checking the incision in his
thigh. The area around the incision was still slightly red and puffy,
something that Jack didn’t like, but it wasn’t too hot to the touch. Jack
decided he’d make a note to keep a sharp watch on the incision to make sure it
didn’t suddenly turn septic. Finished his examination, Jack quickly left the
room, returning a while later with a tray of food.
Jack placed the tray on a rolling bed table raised the head of Bray’s bed to a
slightly reclined position and placed a hand towel under Bray’s chin bib-style
and began feeding Bray. Bray began to protest that he was capable of feeding
himself and then decided that he’d put up with it since it seemed to make Jack
feel useful to be doing something. He wasn’t too excited about Jack’s choice
of meals, though. Jack had made Bray a bowl of cream of wheat and warmed
applesauce.
After Jack cleared the dishes away, Bray felt slightly more fortified and
insisted that Jack bring him up to date on what was happening. Jack told him
everything – about the attack on Bray’s party, the attack on the mall and the
death of the five Lost Boys. He told of using the truth drugs to learn
everything that he could from Jeff, one of the Werewolf prisoners and how he
had shared that information with the other Tribe leaders in The City.
“I’m sure that Zoot has his whole army out there looking for the remaining
Werewolves,” Jack said.
“He’ll kill them, you know,” Bray observed.
“Of course he will,” Jack admitted. “But what else is there to do with them?
We’re not equipped to imprison them for life.”
Jack told Bray about his trip to the zoo and the retrieval of the tranquilizer
guns. Then, for the first time he shared every detail of his plan with someone
else. Bray was amazed at the brilliant simplicity of the plan. It was
audacious, daring, and bold – and most importantly, Bray thought that it had a
high degree of opportunity for success. He was worried about the risk to Jack,
but was forced to nod his head in agreement.
“Do it,” he said. “Let’s take the fight to them and give The Leader something
to fear for a change.”
Later that afternoon, Jack was sitting with Ryan in the Dining Room; mugs of
coffee close at hand as they worked out what equipment that would be needed
for the ambush party. One of the unknown quantities was in knowing just how
many of the Brotherhood would accompany Gull. Another of the unknowns was
whether any of the Werewolves had escaped Zoot’s sweep of The City. Jack
decided that as much as he disliked the idea, he could pay a visit on Zoot and
see if he could get an answer to that question. As he was trying to decide
what other equipment to bring, a shadow fell across the table. Looking up,
Jack found Daniel and Brandon standing on the other side of the table.
“I hear you’re gonna try an’ catch Gull in a trap,” Daniel said. “I wanna be a
part of it.”
Jack stared at Daniel blank faced, totally taken aback by Daniel’s
announcement. He knew what Daniel had gone through as a forced conscript of
the Brotherhood. He knew that Daniel had been physically and mentally
tortured. He shook his head trying to clear it as he thought of something to
say.
“I gotta be part of the trapping party,” Daniel insisted.
“Why?”
Daniel lifted his hand and pushed the thick bangs that hung across his face
out of the way to expose where the phoenix tattoo had been cleverly disguised
under another tattoo. “’Cuz of what’s there,” he said. “It might look
different, but it’s still there and it’s always gonna be there until I do
something to redeem myself.”
“That’s not true,” Ryan said.
“He’s right,” Jack said. “Ever since you came to the ship you’ve done
everything you could to help others out. There’s no kind of debt to redeem –
you should know that.”
“Maybe your right,” Daniel said. “But, that doesn’t change how I feel in my
heart. I was a part of something bad and done lots of bad things – I’ve gotta
make a payback somehow or else I’ll never feel clean.”
“There’s no arguing with him about how he feels,” Brandon said. “I’ve told him
and told him that he doesn’t owe any kind of debt to anyone, but he still
can’t believe it. If it counts for anything, I’d trust him with my life.”
“Yeah, yeah it does a little,” Jack said. “But what matters even more is who
Daniel is – he came here as a refugee and has become a solid member of our
Tribe. I’ve seen him work three different work crews in a day to help
newcomers to the Market get a start.” He turned to face Daniel. “Daniel,
please don’t think that my reluctance was a reflection on you. I was just
afraid that being that close to Gull and his men would open old wounds that
are best left closed.”
“I think that’s the problem,” Daniel said. “Them wounds need to be opened to
let the last of the poison in them drain out.” He looked hopefully from Ryan
to Jack, pleading silently with his eyes. “I know Gull better than anybody
here. I can point him out from a distance and in a crowd.”
“You’re in,” Jack said extending his hand across the table. “We leave this
afternoon, sleep at the Farm and pick up the last of our party and then get
into position early tomorrow morning. You don’t need to bring anything – we’ll
be outfitting you with everything you’ll need.”
That afternoon as Jack was finishing assembling the last of the equipment kits
in Supply, Keith came to him. “You should have included me in the party,” he
said softly.
“No, not this time.”
“Why? You afraid I’ll get too emotional or something?”
“No, because it’s too soon for you to suddenly disappear from the daily lives
of the Lost Boys – especially the ones who are still in shock,” Jack said. “In
case you haven’t noticed it, they’re slowly improving and that’s all because
of you.” Jack reached out and placed a gentle hand on Keith’s shaved scalp and
pulled the puppeteer to him. “You’re right – you deserve a chance to go after
the Brotherhood, and as soon as we can get Alice and Bubba on their feet
you’ll get that chance. There’s going to be a lot of confrontations with the
Brotherhood before this is over, I’m afraid”
“Okay, I’m gonna hold you to that promise,” Keith said as he backed away. “You
just promise me something right now though…”
“What’s that?”
“If things don’t look or feel just right, or things start to get freaky you
get yourself and everyone of our people right out of there. Forget about
getting Gull – just get your asses right out of it. I want you to promise me
that.”
“We’re not going to take unnecessary chances,” Jack said. “All risk is being
minimized.”
“Not good enough,” Keith persisted. “I want you to promise that if things get
weird that you’re all out of there. I want you to promise me that you’re not
going to get yourself killed.”
“No, I’m not going to get myself killed,” Jack said softly. “I’m going to be
back here in a few days and that’s a promise.”
Keith reluctantly nodded in agreement. “Okay, so if I don’t get to see you
before you guys take off – good luck.” He suddenly grabbed Jack in a tight hug
and whispered in his ear, “Don’t forget that you promised not to take any
chances. Come back here when you’re done.”
Not long after Keith left Jack, Dal and Ryan entered the Supply Room to find
Jack putting batteries into headsets with microphones.
Jack looked up. “Good, you’re just in time to help me test these things out,”
he said holding up a headset. “They’re two-way radios, just put this thing
over your head like this and adjust the earphone and microphone, turn it on
and talk. The power pack and control box is all one unit and clips onto your
belt.” He pushed two of the headsets across the counter and then noticed the
serious looks on their faces. His heart fluttered and he felt a heavy weight
in his belly. “What? What’s wrong? Is something wrong with Bray?”
Dal’s face softened a little. “No, nothing’s wrong with Bray. But, I think you
need to see this.”
“One of the regulars who has a pushcart down in the Market said that the Locos
caught all of the Werewolves,” Ryan explained.
“He’s killed them all,” Jack said.
“Yeah – all but one from what his kid said,” Ryan reported. “He said that Zoot
had the last one operated on in the middle of the square while everyone there
watched.”
“Amber’s down by one of the ambulances with a First Aid kit,” Dal said.
Jack scooped up two of the headsets. “Okay, let’s go.”
Before Jack could say a word, Amber cut him off. “Dal and I have already had
this discussion, so you can just keep your mouth closed, Jack. I just brought
a medical field kit down here and I’m waiting to see my man off. I’m not going
to the Inferno to see what Zoot’s done.”
“Well, I guess that sets me straight,” Jack joked. “Since you’re staying here,
you could do me a favor.” Jack handed her one of the headsets and showed her
how to turn it on. Once on, all she needed to do was talk and Jack should be
able to hear her clearly. “Heather is monitoring the ship’s radio – it should
be able to pick me up for a while after I’m out of your range.”
Amber fitted the transceiver over her head and adjusted the earphone and mic.
“Just what is the range on these things?”
“Supposed to be about two miles or so,” Jack said. “That’s one of the things I
want to check on.”
The headsets worked perfectly, Jack could hear every word Amber said as
clearly as if she had been sitting next to him in the cab instead of Dal. Ryan
called out when they had traveled two miles and although the signal was weak,
the headsets still worked. At three miles, neither Jack nor Amber could
contact each other at all. He continued to talk into the headset in case
Heather could still receive his signal.
Ryan turned the ambulance onto the street where the Inferno was located and
the three of them saw exactly what Zoot had done. The bodies of the Werewolves
were still dangling from the scaffolding while people milled about the square.
There was still a party atmosphere in the square – large barbecue grills were
covered with sausages and hamburgers. Zoot’s pavilion was still set up and the
three Shiprats found the Loco leader holding court there. Before getting out
of the cab, Jack removed his headset and slipped it into the glove
compartment.
“Welcome, welcome, welcome,” Zoot called, raising a tall glass. “It’s a shame
you missed the main show, boys. You’d have been surprised at how long those
Werewolves air danced before they finally gave up the ghost.”
“You strangled them?” Dal asked in disgust.
“Rather ingeniously, too, I think,” Zoot said smugly. Zoot raised his glass to
Jack. “I have to thank you for providing the information that helped us to
capture them.”
“I didn’t think you’d do something like this,” Jack said.
“You knew they’d never live, though,” Zoot said.
“I figured they’d be killed during capture, not tortured.”
Zoot shrugged. “I didn’t give them a chance to fight back. I made sure that I
had sufficient superior numbers to prevent that.” He looked across the square
to the scaffolding. “As for the public show … well, they provided excellent
entertainment for the crowds. Besides that, it let everyone see their latest
nightmare put to rest once and for all.”
“What about the one you let live?” Jack asked. “Is he still alive?”
“He’s alive, Jack,” Zoot said pleasantly. “Ebony wanted to keep him as a pet.”
Zoot gave a dramatic sigh. “Sometimes I think that I indulge her a little too
much … ah, but what are you going to do? It makes me happy to make her happy.”
“Could we see him?” Jack asked, trying to keep his voice as neutral as
possible.
Zoot looked pointedly at the field medical kit slung over Jack’s shoulder. “Ah
… professional call? Sure – gotta keep Ebony’s new pet healthy. She’s in the
club with him right now. Freddie, take our friends inside.”
Freddie led the three into the club where Ebony was overseeing the auditions
for new dancers for the club. The club manager leaned over her shoulder and
whispered in her ear. Ebony turned and smiled at the Shiprats as she welcomed
them to the club.
Ebony’s smile always had a chilling effect on Dal – it reminded him of the
cold, emotionless expression on the face of a cobra. Between Zoot and Ebony,
he wasn’t sure which one of them was worse. Zoot was a psychopath, to be sure,
capable of the worst sorts of cruelty if the mood struck him. Ebony, on the
other hand, was just pitiless. Dal figured that sociopath was the closest
psychology came to describing Ebony.
“So, you’ve come to check out my new pet? How nice of you,” Ebony said in an
oily voice, her hand resting on Tyler’s shaved head. “I can’t tell you how
much I appreciate that, boys.” She looked down at Tyler with that cobra smile
on her face and then back to Jack. “You can use that steel table over there to
examine him – after all, that’s the one that was used for his operation”
Jack went across the room to the table and placed his field kit on one end and
watched as Ebony slowly led Tyler across the room. He noticed that Tyler was
walking with a strange gait and slightly doubled over as if he was in pain.
Ryan must have noticed it, too, because when Tyler reached the table, the
farmer easily lifted Tyler to the table.
After donning latex gloves, Jack examined the thick dressing between the
slave’s legs. It was spotted with blood. He shook his head and peeled away the
adhesive tape and pulled the gauze bandages off. The odor of putrefaction
assaulted his nose as soon as the bandage was pulled back. The underside of
the bandage was soaked with blood and pus. Dal pulled on gloves and moved to
the other side of the table to assist Jack. The two of them examined the crude
penectomy – the incision was ragged and roughly stitched and a livid,
unhealthy red. Pus oozed from several places along the incision line.
“How often have these bandages been changed?” Jack asked.
“Whenever Doc gets around to it,” Ebony said casually. “At least twice a day.”
Jack worked hard to control his voice and maintain a neutral tone. “They
really have to be changed more often – an infection has already set in. If
it’s not treated he’ll die. And, if the incision isn’t kept clean with
frequent changes of bandage, the infection will return and he’ll die.”
“And he needs a catheter,” Dal added.
Ebony’s face quickly became a mask of fury. She spun on her heel and barked to
one of her guards. “Find Doc and get his ass in here right now!”
“Dal, I’m going to need a Foley catheter from the bus, antibiotics, saline –
uh, bag and vial, and surgical sponges, please.”
“Right … how about Betadine? I think we have some to spare.”
“Good idea,” Jack agreed as he rooted around in the medical bag for a syringe
and anesthetic. He filled the syringe and held it up so that Tyler could see
it. “This is lidocaine, you’ll feel a sting from the needle and after that,
you won’t feel any pain at all – just numbness.”
“He doesn’t need that,” Ebony said.
“Sure he does,” Jack retorted. “I want him numb when I’m working, it throws me
off if he screams or twitches around.”
Ebony looked at Jack doubtfully and he met her gaze with his most innocent
look. At last she relaxed and nodded. “Okay,” she said slowly. “To make it
easier on you, he can have the needle.”
Dal returned just as the guards burst through the back doors pushing a
confused and frightened Doc ahead of them. He complained and protested about
how they were treating him. Seeing Ebony, he rushed up to her. “Ebony, what’s
wrong? Why are these thugs pushing me around like this?”
“The pup here has an infection already! Jack said he should have had a
catheter,” Ebony snarled. “Why didn’t you use a catheter? Were you trying to
kill my new pet slowly?”
“I swear I didn’t do anything wrong,” Doc whimpered. “Didn’t I say that the
operation was beyond what I was comfortable doing? Didn’t I say that I didn’t
have the skill or the equipment to do it right? You ordered me to operate
anyway.”
Ebony glared at Doc for several long dangerous moments. “That’s no excuse for
doing shoddy work,” she snarled.
“Hey, hey, hey … hold on for a moment,” Jack said. “Can I ask a question
here?”
“Ask away,” Ebony said glaring at Jack.
“Doc, what equipment did you have?”
“Just my basic kit – scalpel, needles, scissors, alcohol, and bandages,” Doc
stammered, looking over his shoulder towards Ebony. “I have some steel rods
that I use as sounds – they’re not really sounds, but good to use as
substitutes.”
“Then I’d say that there wasn’t any way for your doctor to prevent this
infection, Ebony,” Jack said. I mean, considering the conditions and the lack
of equipment and antibiotics available to your doctor, I’d have to say that
I’m surprised to find that the infection isn’t more wide-spread already – in
fact, I’d have to say that whoever insisted on the surgery was the one
responsible for the infection.”
“Is that so?”
“Afraid so,” Jack said.
“I’m the one who ordered the surgery,” Ebony said. “We done castrations and
prunings here as part of the show and almost never have infections.”
“But, you have had some,” Jack said. “Some patients are more prone to
infection and others more resistant. There was no way for you or Doc to know
that a Werewolf would have a weak immune system.”
Ebony considered what Jack had said. “So, what you’re saying is that Doc did
his best and isn’t to blame, and I didn’t know Tyler was prone to get an
infection, so I’m not to blame, either.”
“Yeah, pretty much,” Jack agreed.
Ebony’s face brightened and as quickly as her anger had flared, it dissipated
and she was satisfied. “So, what do you have to do to make him better?”
“I’m going to drain the infection, apply antibiotic gel, give him IV
antibiotics, and put a fresh dressing on. Dal’s going to insert the catheter
and collection bag and show Doc how to care for it.”
Ebony watched the three work for a few minutes and quickly lost interest in
what they were doing and wandered out to Zoot. Doc whispered his thanks to
Jack for deflecting Ebony’s mercurial wrath. Jack just shrugged it off as he
finished draining the pockets of pus and cleaned the incision area. He and Dal
showed Doc how to give an injection and left his medical kit richer by ten
syringes and several vials of saline solution, powdered antibiotics, and
Betadine.
Back at the ship Lars, Brandon, Daniel, and Morgan finished packing their
equipment into the back of the two and a half ton Army truck while they waited
for Jack and Ryan to return. Daniel had just finished tying cushions to the
slat benches in the back when the cracker-box ambulance returned. Climbing out
of the ambulance, Dal announced the good news they had – the Locos had
eliminated the remaining Werewolves so they wouldn’t be a problem to the
Shiprats. Ryan and Jack hurried into the ship and returned in about fifteen
minutes lugging three large canvas sacks and all six of the tranquilizer guns.
“Take your choice of weapons, gentlemen,” Jack said as he opened the cases.
“The rifles all operate the same way, but some have different styles of
stocks. There’s a couple older rifles with wooden stocks, most are fiberglass,
and one has a metal fold out stock.”
Brandon looked over the rifles. “What about the telescopic sights?”
“Not a problem,” Ryan assured him. “Jack and I personally zeroed each of them
in. You put the crosshairs where you want the dart to go and that’s where it’s
going.”
Brandon’s head bobbed up and down as his scarred face stretched into what
passed for a grin for him, “Nice.”
Jack passed out the radio headsets and showed the simple controls. “With
these, we’ll always be in voice contact – if anything’s not right, then we can
pass the message along and call off the mission.”
“What would make you do that?” Morgan wanted to know.
“Gull showing up with about twenty or more Brothers,” Ryan said quickly. “We’d
be hard put to handle that many and still stay safe.”
“So what’s the plan again?” Daniel asked.
“We’re leaving here in a couple of minutes and heading to the Farm to spend
the night and pick up two guides to the rendezvous point,” Ryan said.
“And once we get there, we pick our ambush points and start taking the
Brotherhood down,” Brandon finished.
To Ryan, it seemed as if every one of the Shiprats turned out to say goodbye
and wish the ambush party good luck. And everybody insisted on giving each of
the six a hug or handshake. Selene let Jack know that Bray was asleep but had
left him a message, which she whispered into his ear. After clearing the
gauntlet of well wishers, Ryan climbed into the cab of the Army truck and
fired the powerful engine to life, bringing loud cheers from the Shiprats and
most of the people in the Market. Jack climbed up into the cab on the
passenger side, while the others clambered into the back of the truck and gave
the back window of the cab a fast slap to let Ryan know that he could pull
out. Ryan gunned the engine, sending the gathering crowd of well wishers into
loud cheers. With a silly grin plastered on his face, Ryan pulled out and
headed for the Farm.
The greeting at the Farm was almost as loud as their send off at the ship had
been. Lucy, of course, had spent most of the day cooking and a good deal of
the cooking seemed to be of the cookie, cakes, and pies variety. Lucy refused
to let anyone “talk shop” as she called it until after everyone had eaten and
the smaller kids of the Tribe safely out of earshot.
After the meal was finished and the last of the dishes cleaned up, Lucy herded
all of the children off to watch some videos while the “biggers” talked. Luke
explained that was the term little Aaron had come up with to describe the
young adults who were in charge.
“Gull is due at the rendezvous point in the next day or so,” Jack began.
“We’re going to be there laying in ambush for them with these,” he lifted his
tranquilizer rifle high for everyone to see before passing it around. He’s not
supposed to have more than three or four other Brothers with him.”
“How are you going to recognize Gull?” Adam asked.
“I’ll know him on sight,” Brandon said grimly. “I see that face of his in
every one of my nightmares.”
“Gull is about six two,” Daniel said. “He’s powerfully built – broad shoulders
and all that. Check out his hands in your scopes – he’s missing the pinkie
finger from each hand. He’ll be dressed in crimson robes and his hair will be
the same color and shade.”
“You seem to know a lot about him,” Benny said.
“I should – I was a Brother before I managed to escape,” Daniel said honestly.
He waited to see what kind of reaction his admission would bring from the
farmers.
“I hear they don’t have too many successful escapes,” Luke said slowly.
“Not too many,” Daniel admitted. “They usually hunt them down and make their
execution some kind of public display.”
“And you managed it,” Adam observed. He suddenly stood, towering over Daniel
and grinned broadly as he thrust his hand out. “Let me shake the hand of
someone who’s clearly got guts.” Daniel was amazed at the reaction of the Farm
Tribe members. They thought he was some kind of hero, when all he’d done was
to effect a lucky escape. For the second time in his life Daniel had met
people who didn’t hold his past with the Brotherhood against him. In fact,
these people were treating him like he was special instead of just lucky.
Adam asked where the rendezvous point was supposed to be. Jack described it
exactly as Jeff had told him, on the highway where a huge miles long traffic
jam was situated. Adam looked at Benny and grinned.
“Dude, you couldn’t have a more perfect place for an ambush,” Adam said as
Benny enthusiastically nodded his head. Adam leapt up from his place at the
table and hurried into the kitchen, returning moments later with a long piece
of butcher paper and a grease pencil. He quickly sketched out the highway,
drawing about a dozen rectangles to represent the traffic jam. “This is a
double highway with two lanes in each direction and a median between them.
Now, there’s cars and trucks blocking the whole right of way from side to
side.”
Benny scooted closer. “Right, and the best thing about this point right here
is that the ground on either side rises up on a gentle slope.” He took the
grease pencil and drew two rectangles along the highway – one on each side of
the road. “Then you got these storm drains … they’d make perfect ambush
points.”
“Don’t forget the bridge,” Adam almost shouted.
“Oh yeah, down here just below where the jam-up starts, is a pedestrian
footbridge – it’s kind of like an overpass but for people and bikes.”
Jack studied the diagram Adam and Benny had created. Even though he knew that
it was only schematic and not to scale, it provided him with more information
than he’d had about the area before. There were at least five different
shooting zones. He tapped the map. “Now, these storm drains – are they a part
of a sewer system or just glorified French drains?”
“You mean can you run through a tunnel to another drain?” Adam asked. Jack
nodded. “Sure – they’re about fifty maybe seventy-five yards apart.”
“You have an idea, Jack? Ryan asked.
“Yeah – just a general one until we see the actual lay of the land,” he said.
He began tapping the map. “We’ve got the bridge, the storm drains, and this
knoll on either side of the road. Supposedly, the Brothers will set up a camp
to wait for the return of the Werewolves.” Jack drew an X on the map just in
front of where the traffic jam began. “It’ll probably be somewhere around
here. Now, if we have two guns on the bridge, one in each storm drain, and one
on each side of the knoll from behind…”
“You’ve got them helpless in a three-way crossfire,” Brandon said as he
studied the map. He looked up and smiled at each face around the table.
“There’s no way they can escape from it. They belong to us and don’t even know
it yet. For the first time, they’re going to be the prey and someone else will
do the hunting.”
It was still dark when Jack and the others got up and dressed in their
camouflage clothing. Jack covered his brilliantly colored hair with a
camouflage bandanna. Lucy must have been up for hours – she had a hot
breakfast of scrambled eggs and bacon on the table and a thermos of coffee
ready for each of them. After the meal, which was eaten quickly and silently,
Jack handed out flat plastic boxes to each of the shooters.
“There are eight darts,” Jack said. “You have three different doses in there –
the green is for targets up to about a hundred and thirty pounds. The blue
dart is for targets up to about one seventy-five, and the red ones are for
above one seventy-five.”
“How’d you work that out?” Luke asked.
“Well, there aren’t any charts for human dosages,” Jack admitted. “So, I had
to extrapolate based on our closest relative – the chimpanzees. The darts will
put our targets down, I just don’t know how fast.”
Brandon shrugged. “We’ll be finding out soon enough.”
“Uh, since no one’s asked, I will,” Ryan said. “Just where the hell do we aim
these things?”
Everyone had to laugh at that and the sober mood was broken. Jack was grinning
as he answered, “The natural spot is the butt, of course. That’s a good
target. Or, you might have a clear shot at the neck strap muscles – where the
neck and shoulder are joined. Actually, any fleshy part of the body – like the
thigh can be a target. It just might take longer for the drug to act.”
“So, sounds like a good ass shot is our best bet,” Morgan quipped.
“I don’t want to look like I’m trying to rush you boys, but you really need to
get going,” Luke said.
“We don’t know exactly when Gull and his welcome party will be arriving,” Jack
said. “It might be today and it might be tomorrow.”
“We’ll hope to see you boys tonight, but not really expect you until
tomorrow,” Luke said. He walked them to the truck and watched silently as they
climbed into it. “Don’t take any unnecessary risks – any of you. It’s better
to come back empty-handed and safe. You hear me?”
Adam climbed up behind the wheel, which left Ryan sitting in the middle of the
wide bench seat in the cab with Jack on his right. At the end of the farm
lane, Adam turned the truck away from The City and headed for the trestle
bridge over the river. As they were crossing the bridge, a thought popped into
Jack’s head.
“It just struck me that we can’t just drive this thing down the highway.”
“Yep, your right,” Adam agreed. “We’re actually not going to go up onto the
highway at all. Instead we’ll take the river road down to a point just
opposite of where the roadblock starts. From there, it’s only about a quarter
mile, maybe half mile to the highway.”
“I don’t remember a road along the river on any maps,” Ryan said.
“Well, it’s not actually a road.” Adam said as they reached the other side of
the bridge. “It used to be an old railroad track bed. The tracks were torn up
and the bed improved and made into a bike, jogging, and walking path. We’ll go
down the road here about a half mile where there’s a rest stop and parking lot
for the path and pick it up there.”
It didn’t take long before Adam had left the road entirely and was rolling
along the recreation path. After driving nearly forty-five minutes he turned
the truck into another rest area and eased the truck under the canopy of some
trees near a covered picnic area. Before they could set out, Jack insisted on
one last equipment check and everyone had to dig through their equipment bags
one more time to check that they had all the equipment Jack had packed and
that it was still working.
With the equipment check was over, Adam and Benny took the lead and showed the
Shiprats the way to the highway. Dawn was just beginning to brighten the sky
when they reached the top of the hill and looked down on the highway. Before
cresting the hill, everyone had instinctively dropped to their bellies and
crawled the last few yards. Jack produced a set of powerful binoculars and
scanned the highway above and below the roadblock. Nothing moved – no one was
down there. Brandon had his rifle raised to his eye and was scanning the area
through his telescopic sight and found the same thing that Jack had – Gull and
his party hadn’t yet arrived.
They hurried down the knoll and began scouting the area. It didn’t take long
to find the storm drains – there was one on either side of the highway about
twenty yards above where the traffic jam began. Brandon easily lifted one of
the manhole covers and dropped down into the drain.
“Jeez!” He shouted back, his voice echoing slightly. “There’s not a whole lot
of room down here.”
“What do you mean?” Ryan called down. “It looks like this goes down about
eight or nine feet.”
“Yeah, that’s like the storm drain pipe,” Brandon called back. But up here, at
the grate itself – you have to like climb up onto a ledge and it’s not too
tall.” Brandon appeared on the ladder a few moments later and squeezed through
the manhole. “I’d suggest Jack and Daniel take the storm drains – they’re the
shortest here. The rest of us would end up getting cramps if we stayed down
there too long.”
“Good by me,” Daniel said.
“Same here,” Jack said, nodding.
“I’ll stick with Jack,” Adam said. “I’m not that much taller than he is.”
With the first two shooting positions filled, the group began scouting the
next four positions. The next two shooting positions were easy – about ten
yards behind the storm drains about halfway up the knoll were thickets of
bushes covered with little yellow flowers. Ryan and Brandon took those
positions and in seconds the two of them were perfectly concealed. The last
two shooting positions were on the pedestrian bridge over the highway. Lars
took one side of the bridge and Morgan positioned himself towards the other
side. Both checked their field of fire from their respective positions and
agreed that although they were a little further away than the others, they had
an excellent vantage point. With all the shooting positions selected at last,
everyone moved to their positions and within moments, there wasn’t any sign
that anyone had even been there. Once he was in the storm drain with Adam,
Jack gave everyone about five minutes to get into position before he made a
radio check. One by one, everyone called in to announce that their radios were
working properly. Benny had stayed at Ryan’s position so that he could dash
over the top of the knoll and retrieve the truck when the time came.
“Well boys,” Ryan said into his mouthpiece. “Now comes the hardest part of
this mission – waiting patiently.”
Ryan may have been prepared to try to wait patiently, but Gull wasn’t. He was
already a day late by his own personal schedule. He had wanted to leave a day
earlier, but business in his punishment chamber had delayed his start. His
small band had been on the road for three days now and he wanted to reach the
roadblock by the time they broke for lunch. But Digger, one of the two
soldiers he had brought on the trip had gotten greedy the day before when they
had come across an apple tree heavy with fruit.
“I told you that the fuckin’ apples were ripe enough yet,” Gull bellowed. “But
you had to stuff your damn face anyway.”
Digger, who was squatting painfully behind a bush on the side of the highway,
shuddered as his bowels roiled again and another squirt of watery shit
dribbled from him. “I’m sorry, sir!” Digger gasped. “They tasted sweet enough
… I swear I didn’ mean no harm.”
“Didn’ mean no harm, didn’ mean no harm,” Gull mimicked. “I don’t fucking care
what you meant – the fact is that you’re delaying our schedule with all these
stops to squat and dribble.” Gull stopped for a moment thinking furiously.
“Enough wasting time! From now on, no more stopping to shit. You can shit
while you walk.”
“But my robes…”
“Strip your robes off and walk along naked,” Gull ordered. He leaned over the
bush. “I fuckin’ mean it! Get that freakin’ robe off right now and get up on
your feet and start walking.” Gull’s hand drifted towards the machete hanging
from his belt. “Or, you can stay right where you’re squatting forever.”
Digger frantically scrambled out of his robe and painfully rose to his feet as
another round of the squirts hit him. His face burned in humiliation when
Palmer, the other soldier on the trip, sniggered at his predicament. Digger
hoisted the backpack of food onto his shoulders and began marching as best as
he could.
“I don’t know if that solution is actually going to help us keep time or not,”
Felix said softly to Gull as he fell in beside him. Felix was one of the
Seeker Squad leaders and a good friend of Gull’s. He chuckled. “But, I gotta
say that I like the solution.”
“It made me feel good to do something to get him moving,” Gull said. “I don’t
like being delayed. If I wasn’t intent to reach the rendezvous point today,
I’d stop long enough to lop that idiot’s balls off.” Gull sighed and scratched
his chin. “Ah, I guess that little pleasure will have to wait until we get
back to headquarters.”
“You’re gonna castrate him for getting a case of the shits?”
“Sure – I told him the apples were too green to eat,” Gull said. “Now he’s
going to have to learn a harsh lesson.”
“Oh, come on – you’ve got to let him have a sporting chance to keep them.”
Gull considered his friend’s words. “Okay – if we get to the rendezvous point
by noon, he keeps his balls. If we get there late – off they come as soon as
we get back.”
“Now, that’s more like it,” Felix grinned.
Digger did his best to keep up with the small group and not stop to squat.
Having to walk while the watery shit ran down his legs was the most
humiliating thing he’d ever been forced to do, but he didn’t even want to
contemplate the alternatives of complaining or refusing. A couple of times he
was forced to slow down and walk almost doubled over as really bad cramps hit
him.
Gull kept an eye on the track of the sun. For a while he actually thought they
had been able to make up lost time and reach the jam by noon or shortly after.
But, before long the sun was directly overhead and they still weren’t within
sight of the cars.
“You held us up long enough to miss my deadline,” Gull called back to Digger.
“Kiss your balls goodbye. Hold us up anymore and you can kiss that dick of
yours goodbye as well.”
Silent tears ran down Digger’s face as he listened to Gull’s pronouncement. He
briefly toyed with the idea of making a break for it, but he knew that he
wasn’t in any shape to outrun Gull or even Palmer. He knew that Gull wouldn’t
kill him out here. If that were the case, Digger would make his break. No,
Gull would beat him, hurt him, but at all costs he’d keep Digger alive to
suffer in that torture chamber under the Y. With no alternatives open to him,
Digger did the only thing that he could – he picked up his pace and hoped that
Gull would make his castration as painless as possible. Another hour had
passed before Gull’s rendezvous group came within sight of the stalled cars
and Digger learned that Gull had decided to spare his dick.
The earphone in Jack’s ear crackled, “Heads up everybody – we’ve got company
headed our way,” Morgan announced. “I make out four – yep, just four
visitors.”
“The tall one in the scarlet robes is Gull,” Daniel’s voice broke in.
“Oh yeah, that’s not a face I’m ever going to forget,” Brandon added.
“Okay, chill everyone,” Ryan hissed. “As soon as they stop to make camp, let’s
get this over with. Call out your targets.”
Jack used his binoculars to watch the approach of the Brotherhood group. Gull
had the red robes; there was another guy with green robes, and a third one in
white robes. The fourth member of the group was totally naked, except for his
heavy boots and the heavy backpack slung over his shoulders. He passed the
glasses over to Adam so that he could have a look. As the group approached the
storm drains, Gull began slowing. They went about five yards past the storm
drains before Gull called for them to stop. The white-robed Brother and the
naked one gratefully grounded their backpacks on the road.
Jack raised his rifle and gazed through the scope, placing the crosshairs on
each of the four targets. He had a clear shot at everyone but Gull – the
Brother in the green robes blocked a clear shot at Gull. “Daniel, Brandon –
looks like the shot at Gull belongs to one of you,” Jack whispered into the
microphone by the corner of his mouth.
“I’ve got a good shot at the naked guy,” Morgan reported.
Brandon checked his shot and smiled – he had a perfect shot at Gull. In fact,
he had his choice of shots – he could put the dart in Gull’s neck or in his
ass. “I’m taking Gull,” Brandon whispered into his headset.
“Cool,” Jack replied. “I’ve got a clean shot at the guy in the green robes.”
“I’ve got a nice one at the guy in white,” Ryan reported. “Let’s do it on the
count of three.” His index finger caressed the trigger of his tranquilizer
rifle.
“One…”
Jack took another sighting and placed the crosshairs of his scope right on the
neck of the Brother in green, his finger curled around the trigger.
“Two…”
Morgan aimed directly for the smooth ass of the naked guy while Brandon lined
up his shot on Gull’s ass.
“Three…”
Ryan’s rifle made a slight coughing sound and there was a barely perceptible
puff of compressed air as the dart sped towards its target. Jack, Brandon, and
Morgan fired a fraction of a second later. Ryan watched through his scope and
was rewarded at seeing every dart find its intended target.
Digger gave a cry of surprise and anguish at the sudden burst of pain that
blossomed in his ass. Thinking that a hornet had stung him, he automatically
swatted at the imaginary insect. He heard grunts and cries of surprise all
around him. He turned thinking to find the swarm of hornets that they’d
disturbed and was amazed to see a dart with green feathers sticking out of
Palmer’s neck. He tried to twist and look down at his own ass when his mouth
suddenly went dry and he had trouble controlling his muscles.
“What the fuck is going on?” Gull swore slapping at the thing that had stuck
in his ass. His fingers closed around a metal cylinder and he jerked it out of
his body and stared at the red tipped dart. Flinging the dart to the ground,
Gull fumbled his machete out. “What the fuck is going on?” He repeated. When
no one answered, he turned to look at his companions.
Felix had a dart sticking out of his neck. The Seeker’s mouth hung slackly
open and his muscles twitched as he tried to move. Gull felt his head growing
lighter like it was filling with helium. Digger had already dropped to limply
to the ground. Palmer was still on his feet, but swaying drunkenly. Without
any warning, Palmer fell flat on his ass and then rolled over onto his side.
“Wha’ t’ ‘uck,” Gull tried to scream, but his lips and tongue refused to make
the words come out of his mouth clearly. He looked around, having trouble
focusing his eyes. Gull knew that he was hallucinating – he had to be. He saw
strangers with guns approaching from different positions on the knoll … some
of them even seemed to materialize from the ground. He raised his arm and the
machete fell from his limp fingers a moment before he dropped heavily to his
knees on the tarmac, his jaw hanging open slackly and refusing to work to
create comprehensible words anymore.
Gull pitched forward onto his face and everything went black.
To be continued….
* * * |
Three Male Dogs (straight) | Three male dogs.
I have been into the SM scene for many years. Unfortunately I have to keep
this from my wife as she was born in England, and has all the sexual
inhibitions of the English. I have PA and frenum piercings in my cock. The PA
I have stretched to size 0. I can leave these piercings without jewelry in for
quite long periods, and quickly re-stretch them back to size. Both my nipples
are also pierced to size 10, but I can only leave these without jewelry for up
to a month, and then must re-stretch them from size 14 to 10 gradually over
about a week. A few years ago, my wife and I had a huge row over my body
piercings and since then, I only put jewelry in my piercings about once a
month, and then usually over a few days, just to keep them from closing over.
We have two male dogs, and my wife has had both of them castrated by a lady
vet, who is a friend of hers. My wife told me, during this row, that if I
didn't stop piercing myself, she would reduce my "urges" by castrating me. I
thought she was joking and laughed in her face.
I am a member of a SM club, which has regular parties once a month. I usually
put my piercings in about five days before the party night so that they can
stretch out without hurting when being manipulated. My wife thinks that this
is a regular night out with the boys, drinking.
The club night is usually great. It is expected that all slaves disrobe
completely, and many of the Mistresses are available for sessions. Some of
these can be quite intense, but not quite as satisfying as a private session,
except for the exhibitionist part of the scene. I enjoy being the subject of a
scene with an audience, eyeing out my piercings. Those new to the SM scene,
without piercings, are usually quite bug eyed. At one of these parties last
year, I was in a scene with a Mistress who liked piercing her slaves, and she
proceeded to insert about fifty needles through my cock skin from head to ball
sac. I thought that one of the guys watching, whom I had not seen at the club
before, was going to pass out. His eyes were fixed on my cock. with its forest
of needles sticking out of it, and his own erect cock was twitching and
dripping with pre-cum. One of the Mistresses noticed this and, quick as a
flash, whacked his cock head with the riding crop she was carrying. He
immediately yelped, doubled over, and clutched at his cock, whereupon she
whacked him across the backside. Everyone in the room cracked up laughing.
However, all my fun at these parties was soon to come to an end.
I booked at the club for a scene with my regular Mistress, Mistress Sophia. I
had been seeing her for about two years, every ten to fifteen days, and we had
developed a scene that gave me great pleasure. That night, the scene started
as before.
I was tied spread-eagled fashion, legs and arms apart.
My balls were tightly bound in one bunch, and stretched by attaching them to
the leg stretcher bar between my ankles.
A line was attached to the ring in my penis, and stretched by attaching the
line to my nipple rings. My nipple rings then had a line tied between them,
and the line was placed in my mouth so that I could stretch the nipples by
applying backward pressure of my neck. A ball gag was then placed in my mouth,
and tightly secured.
Hot candle wax was then be slowly and liberally dripped onto my cock and balls
until a thick cover of wax had been built up.
Mistress Sophia then came to the part that she enjoyed. Using a light muti-
stranded whip, she proceeded to expertly remove the wax from my balls and cock
with the whip.
Each whack of the whip across my balls, stretched as they were, felt like a
boot kick., and I needed all my concentration not to pass out. Finally
Mistress Sophia decided that she had removed all the wax from my cock and
balls and untied my balls and my cock.
Whilst I was recovering, Mistress Sophia prepared the next part of the scene.
Carefully she swabbed the underside and head of my cock with antiseptic
solution. Taking out a box of 21 gauge hypodermic needles, she removed a strip
of needles from the box, peeled back the wrapping and inserted each needle in
turn under my frenum piercing down my cock shaft. This process continued until
twenty needles had been inserted in a row. Now came what Mistress Sophia liked
to call the "Crown of Thorns". She inserted a needle under the crown of my
cock head, until the point poked out through the head, like dydoe piercing.
Evenly spacing the needles, she inserted a row of needles until the
needlepoints surrounded my cock head. Each needle produced a momentary burning
pain until the point exited the skin, and was pushed right up to the needle
hub. The endorphin rush after each needle insertion was tremendous, and the
adrenalin coursing through my arteries made my temples pound.
The next part was the one I liked most. Mistress Sophia applied a rubber
emasculator ring to my balls, making sure that it was positioned high up so as
not pinch any cords other than the two main ones. Normally she would time the
remainder of the scene, so that the emasculator ring was not on for more than
20 minutes.
Mistress Sophia left the room and after a few minutes, she returned with two
other Mistresses, both of whom were wearing leather masks, so that their
identities were hidden. The two new Mistresses approached the bench and
carefully inspected Mistress Sophia's handiwork. They appeared to especially
like the "Crown of Thorns", which was looking quite fierce with the raging
hard on that I had developed with the close inspection of my cock and balls by
these two attractive new Mistresses. Normally in the next part of the scene,
Mistress Sophia would remove the needles and start to slowly masturbate me
until I was close to cumming. She would then stop, slide the blunt side of a
pair of nurse's scissors between the emasculator ring and the skin, and then
continue with the masturbation. This would progress until the moment of my
climax, and she would time the climax to co-incide with the cutting of the
emasculator ring. The result of the sudden restoration of blood to the balls
is a combination of pleasure and pain that is quite indescribable, but totally
addictive. My fantasy has always been to be castrated at the moment of climax.
I fantasized that this ring cutting was the closest that one could get to
imitate the feeling of cumming and being castrated at the same time.
This time, however, the scene did not follow the normal procedure. The two new
Mistresses watched as Mistress Sophia removed the needles and swabbed the
needle holes. The cock head bled quite a lot, so it took some time and
pressure to stop the bleeding. By this time, the ache in my balls and lower
stomach told me that emasculator ring should be removed soon. I have read that
about twenty minutes does not usually result in any damage to the balls. Some
men have regularly gone as long as an hour without harmful results, but longer
than that would probably result in permanent damage. Definitely four hours and
you were a eunuch!
The two Mistresses moved to the corner of the room, turned their backs on me,
removed their masks and lit up cigarettes. Mistress Sophia came over to me,
wiped my brow, since I was now starting to sweat quite a lot from the ache in
my belly and balls and gently stroked my cock. More than an hour had elapsed
and if the band was not removed soon, I would be a eunuch. Strangely this
thought did not scare me, but made my cock twitch.
Suddenly, the two new Mistresses turned around and I was confronted by my wife
and her friend, the lady vet. My wife approached the bench and said: " Did you
think I didn't know what you were up to? I followed you here some time ago and
decided to find out about the BDSM scene myself. I'm now a fully fledged
Mistress here, and its time that you became my slave. Since you have
fantasized about being castrated and neglected me, you will now pay for that
neglect. You know that our two dogs have empty ball sacs, and how they got
that way? Well I have decided that there should now be three empty ball sacs
in the house. Mistress Sophia and the owner of the club have agreed that we
can castrate you, and you will become a house slave".
"Wow", I thought, " this is going to be some fantasy. My frigid wife has
finally found out about sex!"
The lady vet approached the bench and rolled out a pouch of stainless steel
instruments and medical supplies. She filled a hypodermic syringe with liquid
from a vial, quickly swabbed my balls, and plunged the needle up to the hub
directly into my balls. I drew a breath in shock from the pain, and she paused
to look at my response. Slowly and carefully, she started injecting the fluid
from the syringe into my balls, looking deeply into my eyes as she did so.
Slowly some of the pain lifted and I felt a slight feeling of numbness around
my balls. My wife walked over, a riding crop in her hand. She suddenly brought
the end of the crop directly down on my balls, still held in the grip of the
emasculator band and now a deep purple colour. The pain was bad, but not as
intense as it normally would have been without the local anaesthetic the lady
vet had injected into my balls. Satisfied that the local anaesthetic had the
desired effect, she nodded to the lady vet. My wife told me that she had asked
her friend not to give me a full dose of local anaesthetic, as she wanted me
to feel her bite off my balls. "She must be joking," I thought, "they'll stop
soon and we'll have a good laugh about this". The lady vet approached with a
scalpel in her hand. Shaking my head from side to side, I tried to indicate
that the game had gone far enough. The gag stopped me from crying out and I
was helpless. The lady vet quickly drew the scalpel vertically down one ball,
and then the other. She pushed the scrotum tissue away and then dissected the
ball away from the connective tissue in the scrotum, leaving it hanging by its
cords on my thigh. She repeated this procedure on the other ball, and then
tightly tied some suture thread first around the cord of the left ball, and
then the right. She leaned over to me and whispered in my ear: " You are now a
eunuch, your balls will soon be dead. All that is necessary is for them to be
removed". My wife approached the bench, and I watched as she bent down and
sucked my dissected right ball into her mouth. She slowly started to stroke my
cock, which by this time had grown to the largest erection I had ever had. The
lady vet got into the act and sucked my cock head into her mouth. My cock head
had swollen so big from my enormous erection, that she had to open her mouth
wide to get the head into her mouth. The combined attention of the two
Mistresses was too much, and within a few minutes I could feel the climax
building deep in my belly. The lady vet pulled my cock head out of her mouth
and watched. As my cock started throbbing, ready to climax, I felt a quick
pull deep in my groin and a sharp intense feeling of pleasure. My cock erupted
with a huge orgasm, spurting semen over my belly. My wife stood up from
between my legs, and as she bent down to kiss me, she pushed something into my
mouth with her tongue. "Keep this warm for me, slave, I'll want it later". I
realized the soft oval rubbery object in my mouth was my right ball. It tasted
slightly salty. I pushed it with my tongue between my cheek and my teeth, so
as not to swallow it. The three Mistresses moved away and lit up cigarettes.
"Perhaps they are going to leave me with one ball", I thought to myself. Then
I looked up into the mirror and saw my purple left ball, still attached by its
cord, lying on my thigh. I remembered that the lady vet had tied off the cord
and whispered in my ear that I was already a eunuch. It was too late, they
were going to do it! No more castration fantasies for me, this was the real
thing.
Their smoke break over, my wife bent down again between my legs and this time
took the remaining left ball in her mouth. The lady vet sucked up my now
flaccid cock into her mouth and within a few minutes my cock was hard again.
My wife's sucking and tugging on my naked ball, and the lady vet sucking on my
cock soon had me ready to climax again. "Slowly", I thought, "make it last".
The lady vet pulled away from my cock and started to kiss me passionately. She
tasted of cum and as she stuck her tongue in my mouth. I realized that she
wanted my severed ball in her mouth, and pushed it into her mouth with my
tongue. She pushed it back, and soon we were pushing my severed ball backwards
and forwards between our mouths. My climax built up and finally exploded. As
it did, I felt another tug and an incredible feeling of ecstasy, bordering on
pain. The lady vet pulled back from her passionate "ball kisses" with my
severed right ball still in her mouth. My wife reached into her mouth and
pulled out my newly severed left ball between her thumb and forefinger. She
dipped the ball into the dollops of cum that covered my belly and rolled it
around until it was covered in cum, and the popped it into Mistress Sophia's
mouth. The lady vet also coated my right ball with cum, and placed it into my
wife's mouth. The lady vet then walked back to her medical tools. She
carefully swabbed my scrotum and the severed cord ends, which had been in my
wife's mouth, with alcohol, checked that the cords were still tied off,
trimmed the cords neatly and cauterized them. She then cut away the rubber
emasculator ring, which had kept the cords from popping back into my scrotum
after my wife had bitten my balls off. Finally she neatly stitched up the two
vertical cuts in my now empty ball sac. Mistress Sophia walked over to me,
kissed me and pushed my left ball from her mouth into mine. My wife did the
same with the right ball. Whilst I rolled my two severed balls around in my
mouth, Mistress Sofia untied me and handed me a towel to clean up, together
with a bottle for the balls. I slowly, and somewhat reluctantly, dropped my
balls into the bottle and handed it to the lady vet, who filled it with
preserving fluid. All the blood in the two balls had been sucked out, and they
were no longer purple, but a pinky translucent white. Looking at my balls
floating in the clear preservative solution, my cock twitched again. My wife
looked at the lady vet with a slight smile on her face. "I think we should
start planning the next phase of our slave's conversion". "We'll start the
female hormone injections tomorrow", the lady vet replied, "and I'll start
reading up on male to female surgical conversion, and do a few experiments in
my surgery. I like the idea of turning his cock inside out to make a vagina.
We'll be able to use our strap-on dildos to both fuck him, or should I say
her, at the same time. After all, his cock is of no use to us anymore, now
that he's castrated".
As I towelled off. I looked down at my empty ball sac. I recognized the lady
vet's handiwork. My ball sac looked just like the empty ball sacs of our two
dogs.
My wife had been right, she now had three empty ball sacs in the house.
I wondered what other plans she had for me. |
||
Supermans Demise | GAY, STRAIGHT, PENECTOMY, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION, Other: Superhero | Superman is captured and forced to undergo the evil experiments of a mad scientist.Feedback is welcome (I have 3 more stories already written and 5 move in progress). | SUPERMAN'S DEMISE
by Robert Moon (a.k.a. "Lunatrick")
[email protected]
written:5/24/97
SCENE ONE
The city has become the envy of other communities since Superman's
arrival. Every month, the crime rate here in Metropolis continues
to drop. Criminal activity has virtually stopped thanks to the
diligence of the Man of Steel. Now, with our great city basking in
peace, the making of a momentous occasion is underway. Superman and
Lois Lane have announced their wedding date! Dignitaries and public
officials will join the friends and family of the couple. The
general public will be able to view the ceremony via a global
telecast. The wedding will take place at Metropolis Stadium in
order to handle the large number of guests and media people.
Super-Wedding fever is sweeping the city in the last few days before
the grand event. I'm fortunate enough to play a small part in the
ceremony. Nothing spectacular, I'll be one of the waiters during
the reception. However, I'll be right up front with the happy
couple!
SCENE TWO
Well, I just got back from getting my tux fitted. Everyone's
preparing for the big gala event this coming Saturday night.
My friend Todd called this afternoon all excited. I guess
Superman's wedding has gotten him enthusiastic as well. He's been
begging to take my place at the reception. Not on his life!
Let's see, the popcorn's popped, the movie's in the VCR, and the
beer is cold. It's time for a little relaxation. Wait, someone's
knocking at the door. Rats, I really need some peace and quiet.
It's Todd. What's he doing here on a Wednesday night? I ask him
why he's not getting ready for the big weekend. He says he needs to
borrow a few things. Like what? I walk into the kitchen to grab
him a beer and hear Todd say "You!" The next thing I know, there's
a dull thump on the back of my head, I see stars, then blackness...
SCENE THREE
What! Where am I? My head still hurts from being hit. I can't
move as I'm handcuffed to a steel ladder in the center of a metal
room. There's a round hole in the ceiling with the ladder coming
down through it. The only sound I hear is my own breathing. It
hurts to struggle too much since the handcuffs are closed pretty
tight on my wrists. I guess I'll just have to wait and see what
happens next.
Suddenly, I begin to feel the air pressure change a bit. There's a
whoosh of air and a quick blur from the ceiling hole and there
stands the Man of Steel! With a smile, he asks if he can be of
assistance. "Yes, please! And can you remove those handcuffs while
you're at it!?!" He laughs and walks behind me, grabbing the
handcuffs. Before ripping the cuffs apart, a metal hatch closes
covering the ceiling opening. Superman easily removes the handcuffs
and begins massaging my sore wrists. Glancing up at the hatch, he
says that we'll be out in no time. He asks me if I'm alright, but
before I can reply, a voice booms out, "Not so fast Mr. Superman!
The room you're in is now surrounded by a highly poisonous gas.
Definitely not fatal to you, but the young man wouldn't survive 2
seconds in it." I'm utterly speechless, while Superman shows
considerably more composure. He calmly walks up to a small speaker
on the back wall of the room and asks the mysterious voice, "I see.
And what do you want from us?" The voice replies, "Your friend
there was simply bait to get you here. What I need from you is a
little cooperation." "What sort of cooperation?" asks Superman. A
hidden wall panel slides open revealing a glass container of some
sort of liquid. "Drink the fluid." the voice calmly says. The Man
of Steel asks, "And if I don't, what then?" In an equally calm
tone, the voice indicates that the room will begin to fill with the
poison gas, much to my dismay. I think the look in my eyes were all
that Superman needed. He reaches into the panel and removes the
container. After examining it, he asks, "What is this liquid, and
why do you think it will affect me in any way?" With a short laugh,
the voice replies, "Just a little cocktail that I've brewed up for
you. I think you'll enjoy it. Now drink it. My patience is
running low!" Superman hesitates for a moment and the voice shouts
out "Now! You over-muscled Boy Scout! I'll release the gas in 30
seconds if you don't." Turning to face me again, Superman opens the
container and brings it to his lips. I don't have a good feeling
about this. I ask him to stop, not to do it. He smiles and puts
his hand on my shoulder. With a few gulps, he drinks the mysterious
fluid. Calmly he puts the container down. "There, I've done it."
he says in a commanding tone. "Good. You see, there's no harm done
as long as you obey me." the voice says with a hint of excitement.
A low hum begins resonating off the metal walls. In a few minutes,
the hum stops and the ceiling hatch opens. The voice says, "The gas
has been pumped away. You are free to go." Not needing to be told
twice, Superman hugs me close and with a short hop, flies us up into
the opening and through a metal tube about 20 feet long. We land in
a larger room with the tube entrance at our feet. I peer down at
the hole, taking time to notice Superman's considerable bulge in the
crotch of his tights. Do you think he was bluffing about the gas, I
wonder? Superman suggests that we're about to find out...
SCENE FOUR
One of the walls swings open revealing a bright, white room. A
short, stocky man in a white lab coat stands at the entrance, "I am
Dr. Epicene. Please come into my humble abode." Holding me with
his massive arm, Superman pulls me closer in order to shield me from
whatever diabolical threat the doctor may present next. We slowly
walk into Dr. Epicene's laboratory. Sitting on a lab stool, he
begins talking, "I have had a great deal of interest in you,
Superman. You possess superhuman strength. Nothing has presented
you with even a hint of harm. Not fire, electricity, bullets, nor
toxic chemicals. Until now. You see, I've been analyzing your
genetic structure from data found in the computers at Star Labs. Of
course, that data is not public knowledge, which is why I contracted
someone to liberate it for me. Our young waiter here knows who that
is. Todd, come in here!" I can't believe it. I knew Todd worked
at Star Labs as a computer technician. Todd walks briskly into the
room to stand beside Dr. Epicene. "Yes, it's true. Dr. Epicene has
paid me a rather generous sum of money for that data," Todd says
with a smirk on his face. Dr. Epicene continues, "After careful
analysis, I decided to run an experiment. One involving the great
Man of Steel! All that was needed was to get you here. And thanks
to Todd and his unwitting friend, it has been a flawless experiment
so far." I begin to get a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.
Superman crosses his arms and walks towards Dr. Epicene, "And just
what does this experiment do?" Todd and Dr. Epicene look at each
other and begin laughing. Walking over to a sheet covered table,
Dr. Epicene explains, "Why, my dear Superman, the experiment will
prove that I have discovered your one true nemesis, your Achilles
heel. Thanks to your genetic data, I've discovered your secret, you
bulging Samson of sperm. The liquid that you so willingly drank is
an irradiated extract of..." Dr. Epicene begins to giggle.
"Extract of what?" demands Superman. "Tsk, tsk, I see your patience
is beginning to wear thin. You see, after exhaustive testing of
your DNA, I concluded that to render your super-powers useless, I
needed to counteract your highly masculine body chemistry, with
something completely different... Which is why you have unknowingly
swallowed a full dose of Kryptonite-irradiated semen!" For the
first time, I saw Superman hesitate. He couldn't believe his ears.
Could this all be true? As Superman and I stood speechless, Todd
chimed in, "How'd it taste, Miss Sperm-Drinker?!? Nothing like
tasting a little man juice, huh!?! According to Dr. Epicene's
calculations, you should be weaker than one of us ordinary people
now! The good doctor has plans for both you and this city now!!!"
SCENE FIVE
Slowly, Superman regains his composure. Looking directly at Todd,
he reaches out and grabs him by the collar. Todd, with a stunned
look on his face, tries to back away. He is held firmly in
Superman's steel grip! I'm jumping up and down, "Yes! Way to go!!!
I knew these guys were full of shit! How about taking care of them
and then getting us out of here?!?" Todd looks decidedly less
confident now and even Dr. Epicene begins to hide behind the table.
"Sure thing, kiddo! Dr. Epicene, would you kindly join Todd over
here?" the muscled superhero begins. Suddenly, Todd twists away
from him and runs to hide with Dr. Epicene. "What the..." mutters
Superman. One of his legs buckles out from under him, sending him
down to the floor on one knee. He tries to get up, but struggles a
moment before his other leg gives out. The Man of Steel is holding
himself up by his hands and knees. I run over to him, trying to
help him up, but I'm not strong enough to do any good. Dr. Epicene
peeks around the table, "Hmmm, I guess my absorption rate
calculations were off just a bit. So, how are we feeling now?
Would you like to lie down?" Dr. Epicene pulls the sheet off the
table revealing what looks like an examination table complete with
leather straps and all sorts of contraptions. Todd grabs me and
handcuffs me into a chair facing the bottom end of the table. These
guys are really into the bondage scene. I watch as Todd returns to
where Superman is struggling. His arms get weak and with a few
wobbles, he finally collapses face first on the floor. Grabbing him
by the biceps, Todd begins dragging the trembling muscleman towards
the table. My weakened hero looks like a rag doll with his arms and
legs sliding across the floor. Finally Todd and Dr. Epicene manage
to get Superman face up on the examination table. Turning to Todd,
Dr. Epicene says, "Spread him out and remove those tights!" With an
excited look in his eyes, Todd goes to work. First he removes the
boots by sliding them over a pair of defined calves. Then, he
unfastens the belt and begins working the upper half of Superman's
costume over that huge chest. Pulling the limp arms over the end of
the table, Todd finally clears the chest and head, leaving
Superman's torso completely naked. He then secures the thick wrists
with leather straps at the upper corners of the table. Dr. Epicene
approaches Superman and starts attaching wired tit clamps to his
nipples. Groaning as first one and then the other firm nipple is
pierced by the metal clamps, Superman can't believe his eyes. His
once invulnerable body is being easily punctured by the sharp metal
clamps. Todd, who's showing a bit of a bulge in his own crotch,
begins peeling the bottom half of the super hero's tights over the
chiseled butt and thighs. Superman's monstrous dick lies cradled
between his thighs as Todd yanks the tights off his legs. His
ankles are fastened to each table corner with the straps there. I'm
staring straight between his heavily muscled legs. There, framed by
dark pubic hair, rests the Man of Steel's pride and joy. Todd grins
at me and reaches over to move that perfect, heavy dick out of the
way. He lays it across the top of a massive thigh, exposing
Superman's balls. God, they're huge! Two plump orbs hang between
his thighs, resting on the table. Todd begins playing with the
left nut by rolling it gently between his fingers and thumb. He
can't even wrap his hand completely around one of those firm balls.
Dr. Epicene yells, "Todd! Get over here and help me with the
equipment!" Superman's weak voice murmurs, "What are you doing to
me?!?" "Why, I'm preparing you for the next phase of the
experiment. You see, I expect that the effects of the Kryptonite
semen will eventually wear off, returning your powers. That would
be an unfortunate circumstance, so I intend to permanently remove
your powers while you're in this vulnerable state!" My heart skips
a beat as I hear this, "What exactly are you planning on doing to
him?" Dr. Epicene responds by talking directly to Superman, "My
dear boy, I plan on relieving your hunky hero of his symbol of
strength and masculinity. After removing every ounce of sperm from
his testes, I will begin my cloning experiments. Using his own cum,
I intend to genetically engineer a race of Super Sex Fiends to do my
bidding. No one will be able to stop me!" Superman begins a futile
struggle to escape his bonds.
SCENE SIX
Overhead, a round, bright light is turned on, illuminating the
following events with horrifying clarity. Dr. Epicene makes a final
adjustment to the tit clamps, forcing them to penetrate Superman's
sensitive nipples even further, "There, that should provide maximum
electrical contact...and pain! Todd, bring the Prostate Stimulator
over here!" Todd returns with a large dildo-shaped device, covered
with thin copper strips and small rounded nubs. Dr. Epicene pushes
a button which causes the bottom half of the examination table to
split in two sideways, forcing the Man of Steel's ankles apart. As
the gap between his thighs widens, Superman begins pleading, "No!
Please stop! Please...mmmph..." Dr. Epicene forces a leather band
over the pleading mouth, shutting him up. Another push of a button
and the bottom ends of the table rise up, lifting the muscular legs
to an angle of about 45 degrees. I can begin to see the crack of
Superman's ass now. Todd does too and swings the heavy balls out of
the way. After inspecting Superman's smooth round ass, Todd wiggles
his forefinger into the exposed butt crack. Finding his target,
Todd begins forcing his finger inside the tight butthole.
Superman's muffled grunts can be heard as the finger continues to
penetrate the virgin ass. "Hmm, you sure are tight. We're gonna
have to remedy that before using the Prostate Stimulator. And I
know just the thing to do it." Todd says. Another switch is pressed
and now the head end of the table raises up until Superman's back is
arched forward, his chin pressed between his mighty pecs.
Superman's body is now doubled over, his massive cock lying over one
thigh, his huge balls swung on top of the opposite thigh. Todd
pulls the super cock up and towards Superman's face. Even soft,
that giant dick nearly reaches his shoulder in this bent forward
position. Dr. Epicene unsnaps the leather gag from his mouth. Todd
squeezes Superman's jaw forcing his mouth open and begins feeding
that long super meat between the helpless hero's lips. As Todd
holds the shaft, Dr. Epicene begins pushing and pulling Superman's
head up and down. Superman's lips stretch around his own fat meat
as a couple of inches of it slide in and out of his mouth. His eyes
begin to water as he is forced to submit to this perverse act of
self-fellatio. "Save those tears Superman. You need all the
lubricant you can get on the end of that dick of yours." Dr. Epicene
tells him. After a few minutes of this humiliating act, Todd and
Dr. Epicene finally lower Superman's upper body back into the
reclined position. The hero's mighty dick is glistening with his
own saliva. Todd excitedly says, "Now for the fun part." Todd
guides the spit-slicked dick down past the full ball sac resting on
Superman's thigh, tucking the head in between his clenched butt
cheeks. Todd spreads the ass wide and begins forcing the massive
head inside Superman's asshole. Superman begins crying out in pain
as the head finally works its way past the sphincter and another
inch of the shaft follows it. Todd stands back and admires his
handiwork - Superman's long meat curving down and between his ass
cheeks, buried inside his own asshole. Superman is grunting and
squirming on the table, trying to expel his own cock from his ass.
Todd, however, thrusts the dick back in as Superman forces it out.
Over and over Superman's hole is stretched open - as Superman expels
his cock and Todd pushes it back in. Finally, Dr. Epicene
says,"That's enough. I think he's opened up sufficiently to receive
the Stimulator now. So how does it feel Superman? You've sucked
your own dick. You've been fucked by your own dick. I'll bet you
didn't think this would be happening when you got out of bed this
morning!" As the doctor replaces the leather band over Superman's
mouth, Todd grabs the dildo-shaped Prostate Stimulator and begins
guiding it toward the partially stretched butt. Without any
lubricant, he starts forcing the dildo-device into Superman's
asshole! "Uummph!" cries the immobilized stud. "What's the matter?
You aren't an anal virgin anymore, now are you?!? Todd, what's
taking you so long, get those 14 inches of Stimulator up his ass
now!!!" Todd keeps pushing the dry device into the spasming
bunghole, the nubs popping inside that tight tunnel, one row at a
time. A little blood begins to form around the anus as Todd starts
straining to get the whole length of the Prostate Stimulator in.
"Aaaarrrrgghh!" screams the helpless hero through the leather mouth
band. Relentlessly, the butt torpedo is shoved deeper between his
taut ass cheeks. Tears are beginning to well up in his eyes as the
last of the 14 inches of nubbed metal are forced into him,
lubricated only by blood and the sweat which has begun streaming off
his defined body. Dr. Epicene joins Todd between the bulging,
quivering thighs, "Good, now lock it in place." Todd turns a ring
on the exposed end of the Stimulator causing all of the nubs to
expand outward like dull spikes into the anal walls. Every muscle
in Superman's body seems to convulse briefly and then completely
relax. I can hear him making little gasping noises now. His
asshole and bowels are being stretched to their limits. I'm
repulsed by what's going on, but can't take my eyes off of the scene
unfolding before me. If only I could get out of these handcuffs!
Dr. Epicene returns to the Prostate Stimulator and inserts an
electrical cord into the end of it. Todd pushes a button which
returns the bottom end of the table to its original position. I'm
beginning to understand the magnitude of the tortuous draining
that's yet to come. Dr. Epicene stands at the side of the table and
begins pressing down on Superman's rippled abdomen. As his hands
progress down to the groin area, he pushes hard. I can just make
out the faint outline of the monster dildo buried so deep inside
Superman. More muffled groans escape from the fallen hero as Dr.
Epicene takes unabashed delight in the torture being inflicted on
the formerly powerful body! Finally, Dr. Epicene returns to the top
of the table and removes the mouth strap, "Well now, you look
uncomfortable. Would you like to be released? All you have to do
is ask AND swear your eternal allegiance to ME!" A brief hiss is
all that Superman can muster. "Todd, the great hero looks a little
parched. Bring him something to drink." Todd returns with a vial
of liquid, "Here you go, Superman." Carefully, he pours all of the
fluid into Superman's mouth. "How's that taste? You liked the
first dose of semen so much, we thought you'd like more!" Futilely,
the Man of Steel tries to spit the debilitating liquid out of his
mouth and throat. Todd covers the dribbling mouth with one hand and
unzips his own trousers with the other, "It looks like we need a
plug in there! Taste this!!!" Todd climbs up on the head of the
table and straddles Superman's head. Thrusting his dick into the
slack jawed stud's mouth, he begins humping the throat with all his
might, forcing the Kryptonite cum in. Superman starts bucking in
his straps as he begins gagging on the intruding cock which is
working its way deep into his throat. In a minute, Todd stops face
fucking him and looks up at me, smiling. Todd moans and lets a warm
stream of his own cum flood the hero's throat. Streamlets of gism
pour out the sides of Superman's raped mouth. Todd pulls his wet,
warm, hard dick out and watches with amusement as the beefy stud
gags and swallows the hot cum. "Beginning to enjoy the taste,
Superman? Or should I say SPERMAN!!!" Todd asks. Dr. Epicene
glances at Todd, "If you're through now, clean him up and bring me
the Extractor."
SCENE SEVEN
Todd washes and dries Superman's handsome face, brushing back the
sweat soaked locks of hair matted to his forehead. Dull eyes stare
back as the raped and humiliated hero's strength ebbs even further
away. The evil doctor's brew of Kryptonite semen leaves the beefy
hero completely weak. Todd leaves the table to fetch Dr. Epicene's
Extractor. I don't think I can stand watching that beautiful man
being tortured like this. Dr. Epicene is adjusting some controls on
a panel beside the examination table while Todd rolls some sort of
machine up to the foot of the table. It stands lower than the edge
of the table, with a clear cylinder about a foot in diameter and
about 2 feet tall connected to various hoses and electrical cables.
Dr. Epicene connects the cables to his console as Todd begins
uncoiling a long hose. A double-walled, clear plastic pouch is
placed over Superman's huge balls. Special fittings accommodate
some small tubes which are connected to the pouch and the machine.
A curved metal plate with a hole in the middle is lowered over
Superman's lengthy dick. The dick lies flaccid poking through the
hole, the metal plate resting on the groin and upper thighs. Todd
secures the plastic pouch to the bottom of the plate and turns a
valve on the machine. Warm water fills the double walls of the
pouch, inflating it around the cum-filled nuts. This apparently has
a pleasing effect on the Man of Steel, as he utters a low, satisfied
moan. Dr. Epicene calmly looks up at the hung, beefy man, "Sorry to
keep you waiting, my dear. We're almost ready to begin. Todd,
attach the suction tube." Taking the end of a thin rubbery tube in
one hand, Todd holds Superman's dick head in the other, spreading
the glans to widen the urethra opening. The muscled stud manages to
raise his head up to see what is happening to his once mighty
manhood. Like putting a straw in a can of soda, Todd begins pushing
one end of the smooth tube into the piss slit. Every muscle on
Superman's body stands out in sharp relief as Todd continues to feed
bit after bit of the tube into the end of that long, thick dick!
The stud just clenches his teeth together, sweat once again popping
out all over his body! Dr. Epicene reminds Todd to insert the
suction tube down the entire length of the penis. My god, how can
Superman take all of it?!? His abs are clenched in perfect
definition as the tube is slowly forced deeper inside his fat cock.
Tears begin to pour from his eyes as he cries out in pure agony,
"NOOOO! I can't stand it! Take it out..." Todd seems to be
enjoying this much more than he should and starts thrusting the tube
further inside the urethra. Finally, 10 inches of suction tube
rests inside the length of Superman's cock, all the way from the
glans to the base of the dick. Dr. Epicene leans over the bulging
thighs to examine Todd's handiwork. As he holds the dick straight
up, I can see the thin tube poking out of the piss slit, its outline
clearly visible running down the underside of the mammoth cock
shaft. The helpless super-hero grunts in pain, his penis raped by
the rubbery intruder! "Very good, Todd. Now secure the suction
tube." The large hose is laid out on the table running up the
length of Superman's muscular legs to meet the smaller tube. A
flexible funnel is connected to the small tube and the larger hose
is pushed down over the funnel, then over the smaller tube, forming
a sealed connection between the tube and hose. Todd continues
pushing the large hose over the end of Superman's cock. It's going
to be a tight fit. He pops the dick head into the hose and finally
manages to get about 8 inches inside the hose, the remaining few
inches ballooning out the bottom end. The hose now tightly
surrounds the end of the dick and the small suction tube/funnel
arrangement. Dr. Epicene and Todd step back to admire their
achievement. Lying spread-eagle on the examination table is the Man
of Steel, electric tit clamps attached to his nipples, a 14-inch
dildo/Prostate Stimulator embedded in his ass, his balls enclosed in
a tight pouch of warm water and a maniacal suction device fed into
and over his dick! I feel nearly as helpless as Superman must feel
right about now. Dr. Epicene turns to me and says, "Now we
begin..."
SCENE EIGHT
I close my eyes, listening to the sounds of water gurgling through
the ball pouch, the hum of machinery, and Superman's ragged
breathing. Dr. Epicene turns a knob on his console, rotating the
examination table so the head is slightly higher than the foot.
Opening my eyes, I now have a clear view of the tortured hero. I
suspect that a bad situation is about to turn much worse. Dr.
Epicene checks all the connections once more, "So, Superman, thanks
to my superior intellect I am about to forcibly take from you the
very seed of your powers. You will undoubtedly feel your greatness
flowing out of your body as my Extractor stimulates your nipples and
continuously pumps your penis, scrotum, and prostate. The Extractor
will swallow every drop of semen that you can produce. Thanks to
your dense molecular structure you should have an uncanny ability to
recover after ejaculating. That's good. I intend to run the
Extractor at full power until your testicles are incapable of
producing sperm. I expect that those full, fabulous balls of yours
will be left with considerably less bulk - reduced to a fraction of
their present size! When I'm done with you, you'll be my impotent
slave!!! Lois Lane will look upon you as a freak!!! Any last
words?" With as much defiance as a man in his situation could
muster, Superman spit out, "I'll see you in hell! You'll never
succeed with your perverted plans. As long as I'm alive, I'll hunt
you down and make you pay for this!!!" Todd leans close to
Superman's face, "Oooh, we're so scared. Once Dr. Epicene is
finished, your powers will be permanently erased. You'll be a
sperm-less, flaccid freak, unable to cum! All you'll be good for is
being a butt-buddy for all of our Super Sex Fiends! They'll use and
abuse that pretty ass of yours day and night! Your avenging days
are over!!! You can kiss your marriage to Lois Lane goodbye.
She'll never want you after we're done with you. Besides, how would
you ever consummate the marriage?" Dr. Epicene turns to me, "Do you
have a good view, boy? I don't want you to miss anything." Of
course, I have an unobstructed view, being handcuffed just a few
feet away from the table. Without further ceremony, Dr. Epicene
starts the Extractor.
Electrical current begins running through the tit clamps, causing
Superman's chest muscles to twitch uncontrollably, deepening the
puncture wounds on his sensitive nipples. More current is diverted
to the metal contacts on the Prostate Stimulator buried deep inside
his anus, the extended nubs rubbing against the prostate and bowel
lining. The water temperature in the nut pouch begins alternating
between warm and cool while the water pressure simultaneously
increases and decreases, squeezing and releasing the ball sac.
Finally, a vacuum pump starts, generating suction on the end of the
enlarging cock. Despite the intense pain in his balls, dick, and
ass, Superman's pleasure points are being programmatically
stimulated giving intense pleasure along with the intense pain. He
tenses up, straining at the leather straps which keep him laid out
on the table. As he begins to moan and rock his head from side to
side, I see some clear, thick pre-cum start to dribble into the
Extractors clear tank. Dr. Epicene and Todd examine the tank and
nod with satisfaction. I notice a little more blood beginning to
ooze out of Superman's ass crack, probably due to involuntary
tensing of the sphincter muscles on the large, dildo-shaped
Stimulator. His dick is fully erect now, tightly gripped inside the
vacuum hose. He starts to buck his hips a little, his moans
becoming more intense. All of a sudden, he lets out a long growling
moan and white gobs of cum start pouring into the Extractor tank.
Spurt after spurt of gism coats the entire bottom of the tank. He
comes for about a minute before collapsing weakly back on the table.
The Extractor doesn't stop. The water pouch fills with more water
after detecting the decreased volume in his nut sac. As the
Prostate Stimulator continues to rub and electrify the prostate,
more pre-cum starts to drip into the collector tank again. Within
minutes, he's moaning again and shooting more cum into the
Extractor. Again, the water pouch continues its deadly squeeze on
the helpless balls! Dr. Epicene and Todd scan the console readouts
which are measuring the amount of sperm collected and the size of
the Man of Steel's nuts.
SCENE NINE
Despite the noises of mechanical rape going on around me, I manage
to drift off to an exhausted sleep. Upon awakening, Todd informs me
that it's now Thursday night and that Dr. Epicene is resting. In
front of me, the Extractor continues its devilish task of draining
Superman of his vital ball fluids. The examination table is
completely wet with sweat and more blood has formed underneath the
strained ass cheeks. I wonder how long his prostate and anal walls
can take the abuse of the Prostate Stimulator. He's quietly sobbing
and moaning now. His body is glistening with sweat as another load
of super sperm is pulled from his tortured genitals. I look at the
collector tank and see that it's half full of whitish liquid. Todd
is placing a full tank of gism into a freezer and I can see several
other tanks in there being chilled already. The laboratory has
become a perverted one-man sperm bank! Looking back at Superman, I
see that he's become an incoherent mass of beautifully defined
muscles. His eyes no longer seem to focus on anything and drool is
running out of one side of his mouth. The huge, mighty dick is
still hard as a rock. Is it my imagination, or are his balls a lot
smaller than they were yesterday? I watch in sick fascination as he
convulses once again and some watery cum empties into the Extractor.
I'm guessing that the time between orgasms is around 20 to 30
minutes now, which is pretty impressive considering the gallons of
ejaculate that he's been forced to produce so far! My arms and
hands are numb from being handcuffed to the chair. Dr. Epicene
returns and after placing a restraining chain around my chest,
stomach, and legs - generously releases my handcuffs. I start
flexing my fingers and arms to bring the feeling back to them.
After a bit, he brings me a glass of some sort of nutrient drink.
Todd returns and under his watchful eye, I'm allowed to use the
bathroom and take a shower. When I'm secured in the chair again,
Dr. Epicene examines Superman's balls and ass, muttering, "Hmmm,
excellent. It won't be long now." Time and time again, the
Extractor pushes the tormented hero to the limits of pleasure and
pain. More containers are filled with the precious ball juices and
frozen for Dr. Epicene's insane schemes. Hours go by and I am
certain that Superman's balls are much smaller now. His cum has
also become quite watery, less milky, with traces of blood in it.
Still, he never loses his erection, his hips thrusting periodically
just before a load is sucked out of him. I guess Dr. Epicene is
being cautious, as he has Todd give Superman more Kryptonite sperm
mixture every hour. He must not want that man juice to sweat right
out and restore what's left of Superman's super powers. During one
of Superman's hourly sperm feedings, Todd generously gives him a
second helping of cum. As Superman reluctantly swallows the second
dose. Todd whispers to him, "Did you enjoy that? I hope so! That
was some of your own cum!! You've been reduced to eating your own
gism, Superman! You've been raped by man, machine, and now
yourself!!! Hahahaha!!!" Superman tries to spit up his own cum,
but it's already deep inside him with the rest of the Kryptonite-
irradiated cum. I sleep some more until Todd wakes me up and takes
me to the bathroom so I can clean myself off. As I sit in my now
familiar chair, I observe that they've once again spread those
muscular legs apart. In horror, I see that the water pouch is
almost completely filled with water. What was a bulging nut sac now
resembles small, wrinkled up prunes. His eyes are completely closed
as he grunts and sends a dribble of bloody cum into an almost empty
tank. Several hours elapse, with each agonizing, forced orgasm
producing decreasing amounts of semen. He's never going to fill
that last tank. Each ejaculation generates only a few drops of
diluted gism now. Finally, early Saturday morning, Superman opens
his eyes and starts screaming in a raspy voice, "Uuuhhnn! No! Turn
it off! Please, turn it off!!!" Then he starts moaning and once
again makes humping motions with his groin. The Extractor keeps
sucking away while the water pouch fills to its limits with water.
He grunts once more as his abdomen and thighs quiver. We all keep
an eye on the collector tank, but no gism appears. The suction pump
is beginning to sound labored. A low moan escapes from the Man of
Steel's mouth building in intensity and volume to a bone-chilling
wail. The Extractor continues to pump away on the captive dick
until, finally, a blast of blood shoots into the container. Every
magnificent muscle tenses, limbs strain in their straps, as Superman
tries to escape the Extractor's evil grip. With a final tortured
scream, his powerless body goes limp. The exhausted muscles spasm
briefly as the anguished super-hero mercifully blacks out. Dr.
Epicene quietly walks over to the console and switches the Extractor
off, "It is done."
SCENE TEN
Superman lies unconscious on the examination table, having passed
out after that final, empty orgasm. With the ultimate rape now
over, Dr. Epicene and Todd level the table and remove the leather
straps that have restrained him for almost 3 days. As I sit
unmoving, watching them start to disconnect the various wires,
clamps, and hoses from his body, I feel a wave of nausea pass over
me. He looks pale under the bright overhead light, his thickly
muscled body shimmering with sweat. His newly pierced nipples,
shining with blood and perspiration, stand obscenely erect now. I
sneak glances over Todd's shoulder as he removes the Prostate
Stimulator which is now covered with blood, sweat, and shit. The
large hose is slid off the partially erect penis, followed by the
dripping suction tube. They lift the metal plate off his dick and
groin, gently laying the fat dick against his stomach. Todd strokes
upward on the rapidly softening cock, squeezing the last remnants of
bloody semen out onto Superman's belly, "Mmmm, good to the last
drop!" Finally, they drain the water from the water pouch and
remove it. Dr. Epicene begins a demonic laugh, "Hahahaha! Success!
The Man of Steel is no longer a man. He's now the Eunuch of
Steel!!! I alone possess the entire supply of super cum from his
testicles!" Pushing against my restraints, I lean forward and see
what has become my ongoing nightmare... There, between those thick
beefy legs, are the shriveled up remains of Superman's mighty nuts.
Two tiny lumps hug the base of his dick. A wrinkled and empty nut
sac hangs loosely against the crack of his ass. I pass out.
The sharp odor of smelling salts revives me. Disoriented, I manage
to determine that I'm lying on some sheets inside a parked utility
van. The din of voices can be heard close by. I also notice that
I've been cleaned up and dressed. Todd quickly pushes me from the
van into a hallway. The voices are getting louder. We stop just
inside a doorway leading out onto a large stage. Wait a minute,
this is the Metropolis Stadium! I hear the familiar voice of Dr.
Epicene talking over a microphone, "Ladies and Gentlemen, I am Dr.
Epicene and it's my great pleasure to introduce our Guest-of-Honor
for this evening's gala event. This city would not be the place it
is today without the constant vigil of our own Superman!" A huge
round of applause and cheers echoes from all the guests packed into
the stadium. The curtain goes up and standing in the spotlight is
the pale and trembling Superman. The crowd continues to go wild as
Dr. Epicene escorts him to the microphone. Dr. Epicene holds his
hands up to quiet the audience, "Friends, let us begin tonight's
Gala Ball with Superman's balls! Or more accurately, his lack
thereof..." With that, Dr. Epicene yanks down Superman's tights,
exposing the convoluted folds of empty scrotum, and 2 marble sized
balls drawn tight against the base of that massive cock! The crowd
goes completely silent for a split second, then loud gasps start
filling the stadium. Superman just stands there, humiliated, in
front of all these people, his disfigured balls on public display.
Todd releases me and runs on stage to join Dr. Epicene who resumes
speaking again, "It finally appears that he could use a charitable
contribution himself! Yes, I have drained him of all his manly
sperm and left him a powerless, muscle-bound, freak. Tonight is the
start of a new era in this city, one which is ruled by myself, and
soon, an army of Super Sex Fiends. My army will be created with the
very semen which the Man of Steel so reluctantly provided. Now
before anyone gets any stupid ideas, my good friend, Todd, has
inserted a small, remote controlled capsule inside Superman's penis.
If triggered, it will detonate and finish the job which I've already
started, turning your hero into a heroine!" Lois Lane rushes up
onto the stage in disbelief. She stops in horror as Todd reaches
over and gently stretches both sides of Superman's empty scrotum
down and sideways, spreading it out until it looks like a small,
fleshy apron hanging behind the great penis. Todd triumphantly
displays the empty, flattened ball sac that was once a bulging
vessel for Superman's previously enormous testicles. The audience
is frozen with shock, staring at their hunky hero's decimated
crotch. At Dr. Epicene's signal, Todd walks behind the subservient
hero. Reaching around the muscular waist with both hands, Todd puts
his fingers on the remains of Superman's tiny nuts and presses hard.
Superman screams and falls to his knees as his miniscule balls are
forced up inside his pelvic cavity!! Slowly, the empty nut sac is
also worked up into his body, adding even more crushing pressure to
his shrunken, abused testicles!!! He continues screaming as Todd
calmly lifts up the huge, flaccid dick, displaying to the audience
the nut-less area at the base of his cock. Todd releases his hold
on the mutilated stud, who immediately doubles up in pain. The Man
of Steel thrashes about the stage, trying to massage the pain from
his balls, but his hands find nothing but creased skin and air! He
has been transformed into an impotent half-man, possessing a large
penis, but incapable of orgasm! Where full, heavy balls used to
swing proudly, only wrinkled patches of skin surround the root of
his now useless dick! The castration is complete! Lois Lane
faints, falling onto the stage in a tangle of her own wedding gown.
Todd and Dr. Epicene quickly grab the emasculated superhero and drag
him out of the stadium. The crowd stands in stunned disbelief while
the duo escapes, taking the screaming, disfigured hunk into the
darkness of the night.
Who knows what unspeakable deeds Dr. Epicene and Todd will perform
on the defeated superhero now...
SCENE ELEVEN
I can't believe what just happened. From my backstage vantage
point, I watched in horror as Superman's shrunken balls were jammed
completely inside his groin! Todd continued the public castration
by stuffing the loose scrotum into the pelvic cavity, pushing the
tiny testicles even deeper inside Superman's body!!! The gelded
hero's blood-curdling screams had gotten more intense. He flailed
around, desperately trying to relieve the intolerable pain. Both
hands searched in vain between his legs for non-existent balls.
That huge dick was the only genitalia swinging between his meaty
thighs, even his deflated ball sac is no longer visible! The doctor
watched with obvious delight as Superman, stripped of his super
powers and his manhood, writhed in agony while the shocked Lois Lane
fainted on the stage. Dr. Epicene strode over and grasped the
super-hero under his bulging biceps, lifting the torso. Todd
clenched Superman's dick in his fist and in a final act of
humiliation, used it as a handle to pull the ravished muscleman from
the stage...
Snapping out of my own shock and into an unexpected act of bravery,
I turn and run back down the hallway and into the waiting van. I
quickly hide behind the driver's seat, covering myself with a sheet.
Todd and Dr. Epicene arrive shortly, tossing the convulsing Superman
in the back of the van. Todd takes the wheel and speeds off, while
the evil doctor gloats over his latest victory. Meanwhile, the
exhausted Superman lies curled up and sobbing, covering his barren
groin, his tights still pushed down around his ankles. He pleads in
a weak voice, hoarse from his prolonged outcries, "I'm begging you,
please stop this torture... I'll do anything, just please stop..."
Dr. Epicene turns to face him, "You'll do anything I want,
regardless of whether I stop or not. However, your begging is
making me feel generous...and aroused." The doctor climbs into the
back where he gently helps Superman out of his costume. Dr. Epicene
comments, "You won't be needing these any more. You don't quite
fill the crotch of those tights like you used to, do you?"
"No...sir," responds the now submissive hero. Superman, drained of
all his super testosterone, appears to become more passive by the
hour. The doctor rolls him over onto his hands and knees. Then
kneeling down in front him, Dr. Epicene places his knees between
Superman's arms and hands. As the doctor unzips his pants, he says,
"I want you to suck my dick and swallow my cum. My semen will be
the first to enter your impotent body." The muscular hunk slowly
lowers his head into the doctor's lap, allowing the hardening cock
to enter his mouth. Dr. Epicene places his hands on either side of
the handsome face and tenderly guides it further down his shaft.
When Superman starts a slow sucking rhythm, the doctor reaches over
his broad shoulders and begins caressing the muscles on his back.
Occassionally, he reaches underneath to the massive chest where he
lightly fondles the protruding nipples. The Man of Steel makes
whimpering little moans. The doctor starts thrusting his hips into
that warm mouth as his orgasm nears. Using both hands, he suddenly
pushes down on Superman's head, burying his dick into the back of
the mouth. Without letting go, the doctor begins violently fucking
the stud's gagging mouth, finally shooting wads of cum down his
throat. Each spurt is quickly swallowed, forced down by Dr.
Epicene's ramrodding dick. Pulling out, the doctor moves behind the
kneeling hero, to a pair of magnificent butt cheeks. He slides his
glistening dick easily into Superman's still raw asshole, shooting
the last of his cum into the aching bowels. Superman, gasping for
air, begins coughing up gobs of the doctor's gism. Dr. Epicene
continues to pound Superman's ass with long, hard strokes. Finally
withdrawing, the doctor cleans his dick off by wiping it in the
crack of that muscular butt. He rolls Superman back onto some
sheets before returning to his seat. Glancing back, Dr. Epicene
says, "I am the first of many you will satisfy with your exquisite
body. Perhaps one day I will tire of you and set you free, my sperm
in your belly, your castrated body a testimony to my awesome
intellect!" The remainder of our journey is made in silence. The
once invincible Man of Steel, with gism oozing from his mouth and
butt, falls into much needed sleep.
SCENE TWELVE
The van comes to a stop. Dr. Epicene and Todd remove their naked
passenger, leaving me hidden under the sheet. I don't know exactly
where we are, just that the drive has taken us uphill for a while.
Upon sneaking out of the van, I see that we're in Dr. Epicene's
hidden laboratory again. I quietly creep around looking for another
place to hide. I've got to come up with a plan to deactivate the
explosive cap embedded inside Superman's penis. If only I could
find a way to overpower Todd and the doctor, then we could escape!
As quietly as possible, I make my way into the laboratory. The
examination table is still damp with the sweat from Superman's
inhuman "milking" episode. The muffled voices of Dr. Epicene and
Todd seem to be coming from further down the hallway. Quickly, I
sneak into a supply closet, just as the doctor and Todd step into
the hallway. I can just make out Dr. Epicene's voice, "...and leave
the capsule embedded in him for now..." Their voices become quiet
as they proceed to other areas of Dr. Epicene's hideout. I've got
to find out what they've done with Superman.
It's been quiet for several minutes, so I exit the closet and
proceed further down the hall, listening at each door. Finally,
moans of agony can be heard coming from behind a metal door. I
cautiously open the door and peek inside. In the corner, his naked
body shackled by the neck to the wall, sits Superman. His head
hangs down as he groans repeatedly. Dr. Epicene's dried cum is
still visible on his face and thighs. "Superman, how badly are you
hurt?" I whisper. The Man of Steel looks up at me, his eyes unable
to focus. "Pain...won't...stop..." he mumbles. The chain around
his neck is solid and locked. There is no way I can get it loose.
"Superman, do you have ANY of your powers left? Can you get out of
these shackles?" Slowly, he brings one muscular arm up and grips
the collar around his neck. Superman strains briefly as he tries to
rip the metal apart. He finally lets go, dropping his arm back down
across his beefy thigh. His massive chest is heaving as he gulps
air in from the exertion "Strength is gone... pain in groin...
Doctor returning soon..." he says between breaths. I sit down
between his knees and spread his legs apart cautiously as Superman
whimpers in pain. "Let's see if I can do anything down here." as I
begin my inspection of Superman's genital area. Gently I lift his
huge dick up. The folded remains of his scrotum are all too
apparent. How can Superman even be conscious after having his
drained, shrunken balls and scrotum pushed up inside his pelvis?
Will pulling the scrotum back out relieve the pain in whats left of
his balls? Just as I start to pull on the folded skin, I notice a
lump at the base of his dick. Carefully, I run my fingers around
that area, tracing the outline. This must be the explosive capsule!
Dr. Epicene has forced the diabolical device down Superman's
urethra. The doctor wasn't kidding. If he set it off, Superman's
dick would be blown sky high! I start squeezing just below the
capsule, trying to force it up and out of Superman's dick. Superman
groans and tenses up. My squeezing must be putting more pressure on
his trapped balls. The capsule moves a little, but there's got to
be a better way to get it out without hurting the Man of Steel any
further. Without a second thought (or asking permission), I kneel
down and take the tip of his meaty cock into my mouth. I start
sucking on it for all it's worth. After a few minutes of this, my
jaw begins aching. I'm glad Superman's not getting hard, I don't
think I could swallow all of it! Tenderly, I feel along his dick,
finding the capsule that is slowly being sucked up the length of
that huge cock. I start kneading the shaft just below the capsule.
The explosive begins moving upwards a little faster now. I can hear
Superman moaning now. Is he in pain from the capsule being expelled
or is it pleasure? Finally, the explosive is resting just below the
cockhead. I quit sucking as I don't want to accidentally swallow
the capsule myself. WIth both hands now, I continue squeezing the
spit slicked cock, working the unwelcome intruder further upward.
Superman is really groaning now. At last, the tip of the metallic
intruder can be seen. "Uhhh...uhhhhhhhhhh!" cries Superman as his
piss slit becomes grossly puckered. Finally, the capsule slips free
of his dick, where I catch it in one hand. The tension in
Superman's muscles fade away as he is relieved of the explosive.
"How're you feeling now?" I ask as I put the capsule in my pocket.
"Better. My balls feel like they're in a vise." he mutters, still
weak after passing the explosive capsule from his body. "Well, at
least you still feel something in your balls. I was afraid that
Todd might have ripped them loose after forcing them inside you like
that. Let's see if I can pull everything out. Are you ready for
this?" Superman hesitantly nods that he is. "Okay, here goes..."
As gently as possible, I start pulling on the folded skin where
those huge balls used to hang. "STOP!!!" Superman and I look at
each other as Todd walks into the room.
SCENE THIRTEEN
Todd walks briskly up to me. Grabbing my wrists, he pulls them from
between Superman's legs and handcuffs them together. "That should
keep you under control for now!" Todd shouts. Superman tries to
cover his crotch as Todd forcefully examines the ball-less dick
root, "Hmm, I see you've left Superman's buried treasures alone! We
don't want to spoil the good doctor's fun." Todd returns his
attention to me, "You see, unless Dr. Epicene keeps up his
kryptonite-cum infusions on Superman, there is a possibility that
those tiny balls could regenerate, gradually restoring his super-
powers. We just can't allow Superman to regain those powers." At
last, a ray of hope for Superman! Todd unchains Superman from the
wall and escorts both of us out of the room.
We are led inside another laboratory. Several tables have computers
on them. They appear to be monitoring the contents of six large
metal canisters along one wall. "Those are the Incubators. The
next phase of my experiment is already well under way!" Dr. Epicene
exclaims as he looks up from one of the computers. "Thanks to my
great intellect and Superman's sperm, my first six Super villains
are developing quite rapidly. You see, I've performed a little
genetic engineering on samples of your cum, Superman. It appears
that your super-sperm is more powerful than I had imagined!" The
doctor motions to Todd. Superman and I are taken to an empty lab
table. "Help me get Superman up here." Todd orders me. Hindered by
the handcuffs, I struggle to lift the powerless superhero onto the
table. Todd lays Superman down on his back, then turns to me, "Get
up there with him." I climb up on the table. Todd has me get on
hands and knees between Superman's legs. "We watched you sucking
Superman's dick on our hidden video camera. It looks like you
enjoyed that so much, we're going to give you another taste."
Superman's ankles are tied to the corners of the table. Dr. Epicene
joins Todd, "I want to see you take the whole thing down your
throat!" With Todd holding Superman's fat dick upright, I position
myself and put the cockhead into my mouth. Slowly, I start sliding
the length of it inside my mouth. Breathing deeply through my nose,
I try to slip that huge soft dick completely in. Todd, growing
impatient, forces my head down. Almost gagging, my throat feels
impaled on the soft, hot manmeat. I can feel Superman's thick cock
down my throat, his pubic hair pressed against my nose. "Bravo! We
knew you could do it!" Dr. Epicene remarks. Todd, however, does not
release his hold on me. I try to back off to get air, but Todd
keeps my face buried in Superman's crotch. Finally, he slowly pulls
my head up, Superman's wet dick inching its way out of my mouth.
Gulping for air, I'm oblivious to what happens next. Todd extends
the index fingers of both my clinched fists. Then, as I continue to
struggle for air, he slides my hands toward Superman's crotch. "Now
we can't have Superman's balls regenerating themselves, so you will
solve that little problem for us right now..." Todd says as he
guides my index fingers to the base of Superman's fat cock. I can
feel the wrinkled skin there. Todd inserts both fingers into the
folds of scrotum on each side of the dick and pauses. "Superman,
say goodbye to the remains of your balls!" Dr. Epicene exclaims.
"Whenever you're ready Todd!" WIth that, Todd begins pushing my
fingers inside the folded scrotum. Superman begins screaming and
writhing on the table. My fingers continue to be forced up inside
Superman's pelvic cavity on either side of his dick. The warm folds
of his empty scrotum envelope each finger as they are pressed in
past the first, then the second knuckle. At that moment, I can feel
the two small lumps of Superman's depleted testicles. Superman
continues screaming as the pressure on his balls increases. His
shrunken nuts are feeling the effects of being rammed further into
his body, his empty scrotum being packed against them, and now the
added force of my fingers! Todd relentlessly thrusts my fingers
deeper inside Superman. I can feel the balls getting pushed further
into the Man of Steel. Suddenly, Superman stops screaming and looks
down his muscular body at me, his eyes wide with fear. Here I am,
lying face down between his mighty legs, my arms stretched forward,
my fingers embedded inside the Man of Steel's crotch. Todd gives my
hands another thrust. Deep inside Superman's groin, I can feel
first one, then another small pop as my fingers press harder against
the captive balls. Unable to withstand the ongoing pressure, his
nuts finally detach inside him. The lumps turn mushy as they slide
past my fingertips. Superman flails about the table, my fingers
fully inserted into him. The remains of his balls rest deep inside
his pelvis, detached and burst thanks to Todd, Dr. Epicene, and
me!!! Superman begins screaming again as Todd uses my index fingers
to grind his balls into oblivion.
SCENE FOURTEEN
Todd pulls my fingers from Superman's crotch. As I sit up in
horrified disbelief, Todd and Dr. Epicene drag the screaming
superhero into what looks like a small operating room. Examining
the folded skin on the once invulnerable crotch, Dr. Epicene wiggles
one gloved finger up each side of Superman's dick into the pelvis to
verify the horrible truth, "yes, both testes are ruptured and
separated. Superman is no more and never will be a man again!!
Hahahaha!! Todd, hand me the laser scalpel and the laser
cauterizer. We don't want him...I mean IT...to bleed to death."
Once his nuts were detached, Superman's scrotum began filling with
fluid. His nut sac begins inflating, popping back outside his body
bit by bit. While Dr. Epicene prepares his surgical gear, Todd and
I watch in sick fascination as Superman's scrotum enlarges back to
its original size. The bloody, pulpy remnants of his disgorged
testicles ooze out into the swelling nut sac, mixing with the other
body fluids rushing in. Amazingly, the sac continues to fill,
slowly inflating like a balloon. The gargantuan, bulging scrotum
begins to push against the unconcious hero's thighs. As the sac
continues to fill, it swells up above the mighty thighs and actually
pushes the cock upright. Fluid begins to dribble from the piss
slit. "Ahh, Superman's prostate gland is obviously overcompensating
for the testicle trauma." observes Dr. Epicene. "Soon, you'll be
able to fullfill YOUR fantasy, Todd!" The nut sac is becoming
translucent as the skin is stretched tighter and thinner by the
incredible volume of fluid engorging the sac. In silent curiosity,
Todd, the doctor, and myself stare at the rapidly enlarging scrotum.
I can see the fibrous shreds that were once the Man of Steel's balls
swirling around inside. Prostatic fluid is continuously drooling
from Superman's cock now, forced out by the relentless pressure.
How unfortunate that Superman's own body defenses are responsible
for the disfigurement going on before our eyes. Suddenly a feeble
moan is heard. Superman is regaining consciousness again! His
disbelieving eyes look at each of us. Finally, he looks down at his
own grossly enlarged ball sac, the upright dick spewing fluid over
his groin and abs. "Wha.. what's happening?" he mumbles as a look
of horror begins to appear on his strained face. "Why, we're just
seeing how well you hold up under pressure, Superman!" Todd
chuckles. With that, Todd reaches between Superman's meaty thighs
and grasps the swollen scrotum in both hands. He can actually feel
it getting larger and firmer! It's now about 8 inches in diameter,
looking like a veined balloon cradled between the muscular legs. As
it continues to fill, the cock is beginning to be surrounded and
enveloped by it. Soon, only the dick head will be peeking above the
sac. The skin tissue must be getting dangerously thin by now. Todd
begins putting gentle pressure on the growing sac, squeezing it.
Superman begins gulping for air as what must be unimaginable pain
racks his body. A small geyser of fluid begins to shoot from the
engulfed cock head. The geyser intensifies as Todd applies more
pressure. When Todd releases the immense fluid filled nut sac, the
flow slows to a continuous drool again. Todd watches in amusement
as he continues to squeeze and release the sac, each time sending a
jet of fluid arcing into the air, hitting Superman in the chest,
face, eyes, and mouth. Dr. Epicene cleans Superman's face off,
"You'll want to see this part, Superman. Todd, now that I have all
the genetic material I need from him, he's all yours to do with as
you wish!" With a maniacal smile, Todd returns his attention to the
enlarging sac. It must be 10 inches across now, a fleshy nearly
transparent ball with tiny blood vessels winding over the surface.
As Dr. Epicene holds Superman's head upright, Todd gently kisses his
ball sac, then laps at the fluid oozing from the tip of his cock.
Todd then buries his face into the sac and begins sucking on the
cock head. His cheeks fill with the viscous fluid, as he drains a
mouthful of liquid from the sac. Quickly he straddles Superman's
chest, leans over and kisses Superman, unloading all the liquid into
his gagging mouth. As Superman coughs up the prostatic fluid, Todd
returns to his position at Superman's feet. He swiftly pushes
Superman's knees apart, the engorged nut sac dropping between the
thighs and bouncing on the table with a sickening splat. Superman
groans in pain as his cock once again sends a jet of clear fluid
shooting out. Todd thumps the nut sac, listening to the sound it
makes. He then winds back and punches Superman's fragile nut sac
square on! His fist sinks into the still pliant vessel, as a huge
volume of juice erupts from Superman's dick. His ball bag looks
like a fleshy, transparent pumpkin with the scrotum swollen up
around his cock, leaving only the head visible like a stem.
Superman's prostate still continues to manufacture inhuman amounts
of seminal fluid, replacing the ejected liquid. His own bodily
defenses are rapidly becoming the means of his undoing! Slam! Todd
punches the nut sac again. More fluid leaps out of the super dick.
I don't see how the thin skin can take this abuse! Todd then
resumes a death squeeze on the hero's engorged sack. Like clear
lava, the prostatic fluid oozes and runs down the sac, covering it
completely. "Careful Todd, he's looking pretty ripe there!" the
evil doctor exclaims with a wicked grin. Todd reaches under the
huge sac and lifts it up off the table, above the mighty legs.
"Man, this is heavy!" grunts Todd. Superman now has an unobstructed
view of his swollen ball sac. Where his mightly orbs of manhood
once hung, now a grossly huge sac remained - raped of its powerful
sperm, his testicles now mashed beyond repair. He could see the
fibrous tendrils floating about the sac - seemingly searching for
the detached and pulverized gonads. He could even see the squashed
remains of testicular tissue swirling about. He remained conscious,
though in shock. As the prostate fluid continued to escape from his
dick, it splashed down on his abs, filling his navel, running down
his stomach and periodically jetting up onto his pecs. His vision
narrowed as he fixated on the remains of his manhood. Todd laughed
as he began squeezing the ball sac with all his might. A
continuous, mighty stream shot from the thick dick, splattering
Superman's chest, neck, and face. As Todd applied more pressure,
the force of the stream increased. His dick was acting like a
safety valve for the crushing pressure! Almost... As Todd squeezed
harder and harder, he spread his hands wide across the 10-inch wide
sac, forcing his hands to meet in center. The sac ballooned out
around his palms and fingers. As Superman began screaming for the
last time, a loud pop could be heard! Clear liquid flew everywhere
as the distended ball sac finally burst open. Superman's entire
body was covered in liquid as was Todd's upper torso and face. Like
a popped balloon, small pieces of scrotum lay strewn about.
Superman was convulsing on the table, his ultimate source of power
and manhood now irretrievably erased from his body. Todd quickly
recovered from the surprise of actually busting Superman's nut sac
and began a hysterical laugh. Even as Superman was twitching
around, he reached in between those massive thrashing legs, right
into the groin and began scooping out the remaining tendrils.
Taking the palmfull of mashed tendrils, he reached up and forced it
all into Superman's mouth. We all watched as Superman involuntarily
chewed the remnants of his own nuts and swallowed them. Dr. Epicene
hurries to the end of the table and inserts a thin rod into
Superman's ass. He works the rod around as he tries to shield
himself from all the liquid spewing from Superman's ruptured crotch.
Finally, he activates a button on it and in a moment the flow stops.
Superman stops convulsing and goes completely limp. Dr. Epicene
snatches the rod out of Superman's asshole. There, captured by a
miniature claw is Superman's prostate gland - ripped out of his body
by the evil Dr. Epicene. Todd takes the still quivering and oozing
gland and feeds that to the decimated hero as well. He grabs
Supermans jaw and helps him grind the gland to mush before
swallowing it as well. The doctor then retrieves his laser scalpel
and cauterizer. First, he seals the open wounds where Superman's
huge, virile nads used to hang. Then, he removes the last remnants
of the exploded nut sac with the laser scalpel. As he applies a
salve of genetically engineered super-cum, the wounds begin to heal
themselves smooth. In a few minutes, the area below Superman's
great cock is completely smooth and barren. No trace of his mighty
vessels of manhood remain! "Congratulations Todd. You have
realized your fantasy by completely removing Superman's virility and
ultimate source of his superhuman powers!!" Dr. Epicene squealed
with delight. "Now it's time for my fantasy!" With that, Dr.
Epicene prepared another vial of the super-cum salve. Using the
laser scalpel, he delicately began slicing through the meaty root of
Superman's dick! As he continued to work on the thick member,
Superman awakened, screamed at the sight and pain of what was
happening between his legs and promptly blacked out again. Dr.
Epicene worked for several minutes until I heard a dull thud.
Superman's bulky penis was finally severed and had fallen onto the
table. The laser scalpel had effectively cauterized both the penis
and the crotch, so no blood or fluid was evident. Dr. Epicene
quickly applied the salve to Superman's groin and to the end of the
dismembered penis. When he moved out from between Superman's legs,
I was shocked to see not only the smooth, nutless area, but also the
smooth, dimpled space where the super-dick once protruded. Dr.
Epicene had fashioned the flesh into what looked like another
sphincter! Superman now, for all intents and purposes, had a new
hole which Dr. Epicene and Todd were obviously hoping to use for
their own sexual gratification, as well as to satisfy their army of
Super Sex Fiends! As Todd and the doctor began cleaning up the once
mighty superhero, fatigue and shock finally set in. The image of a
completely castrated Superman faded as I succumbed to the inevitable
blackness. I have no idea how long I slept. I awoke to the sounds
of lust... As I opened my eyes, I could see Superman sprawled out,
his legs spread wide and hanging over the sides of the table. He
was grunting as a naked Dr. Epicene was lying crotch to crotch on
top of the muscular hero. Dr. Epicene's hips were thrusting back
and forth against Superman's groin. He was fucking Superman like a
woman! Now that Superman had a hole instead of a penis, the doctor
was filling it for all it was worth. Periodically, Superman's legs
would jump and he would groan. Dr. Epicene was shouting, "How does
that feel Superman! Take my meat like the bitch you are! Soon
you'll be taking big dicks up your ass, in your mouth, and into your
new man-cunt. You will be my own private sperm bank, filled with
the cum from my Super Warriors. Your groin, ass, mouth, and belly
will be overflowing with the super seed of my own army! Get used to
us performing every deviant sexual act we can on you." The doctor
continued his rhythmic thrusting as he began biting on Superman's
large nipples. The once-hero simply moaned as the doctor continued
raping the massively muscled hunk. Finally, the doctor's thrusting
became sporadic. He began shooting load after load of cum into
Superman's new hole. Still thrusting, the cum lubricated the
doctor's dick and Superman's hole and I could hear the slurping
sound. When Dr. Epicene pulled out, white globs of sperm covered
his dick. "Here, clean this off!" the doctor commanded. Superman
willingly accepted the cum soaked dick into his mouth and began
licking and sucking it clean. The doctor's cum was oozing out of
Superman's man-cunt now. Superman was obviously exhausted by the
fucking and could not lift his legs back up onto the table. The
doctor then left the room. Superman just lay there breathing
heavily, Dr. Epicene's spunk dripping out of him into a puddle on
the table.
SCENE FIFTEEN
I remain Todd and Dr. Epicene's captive. They treat me well for
some strange reason, though I am almost always chained up. Sexual
scenes unfold before me as Todd and the doctor perform a variety of
acts upon the powerless superhero. They both are fond of fucking
Superman simultaneously - one in Superman's ass, the other up front
in his man-cunt. Apparently, they can feel each others cocks
rooting around inside Superman. They seem to take great delight in
being sexually satisfied at the expense of Superman, who can no
longer feel any type of sexual gratification. He has become a
receptacle for their repeated sperm "injections."
Soon, Dr. Epicene announces that the first Super Sex Fiend is ready
to be released from its incubator. Superman, Todd, and I watch as
the doctor activates the controls which drain and then open the
incubation tube. There standing naked is a hugely muscled, red-
haired version of Superman! "As you can see, I've made a few
improvements!" Dr. Epicene beamed. The red hair is a consequence of
the red kryptonite irradiation he was explaining. I noticed the
small crop of red pubic hair just above a titanic cock and set of
balls. They dwarfed even Superman's previous genitalia! "Yes, some
interesting improvements as you can see!" the doctor continued.
"Now let's see if the behavioral encoding is just as successful..."
Todd led the strapping hunk over to Superman. As they stood there
looking each other over, Proto One, as Dr. Epicene named him,
focused on Superman's groin. Superman tried to hide his lack of
male genitalia with his hands. Proto One reached out and easily
held up Superman by his wrists, exposing the sphincter in his
crotch. Superman struggled, but could not break free. Since Proto
One now possessed the strength that Superman once had, this was only
surprising to Superman. Proto One grinned and Superman, still
struggling, looked down to see Proto One's unnaturally large cock
begin to swell and stand erect. It had to be 4 inches across and
was lengthening to around 16 inches! His bulging, grapefruit sized
balls began drawing up close to his cock root. Proto One put
Superman back down and grabbed him by the waist, pulling him closer
to his huge cock. Pre-cum was dripping from the fat cock head now.
Fear was showing on Superman's face as Proto One starting probing at
Superman's 'cunt'. Soon, Superman's crotch was covered with slimey
pre-cum and Proto One was starting to push the mighty cock head into
Superman's hole. "Uhhnn..." Superman gasped, as more of the head
began to intrude inside him. As Proto One held Superman firmly by
the waist, he used his knees to force Superman's legs apart. Proto
One pushed a little more and Superman began trembling. His man-cunt
was slowly being stretched wide by the invading cock head.
Suddenly, Proto One simultaneously thrust forward and up while
pulling down on Superman's waist. A rush of air escaped from
Superman's mouth as he became impaled on Proto One's rigid super
cock! In one thrust, Proto One had pushed the entire 16 inches of
his dick inside Superman! It looked as if they were siamese twins,
joined at the crotch - one set of balls swinging between their legs.
The excess pre-cum was squeezed out of Superman's hole, leaking down
on Proto One's nuts. Superman was trying to scream, but no sound
came out. As he writhed in unimaginable pain, Proto One released
his hold on Superman. He hung suspended on Proto One's man-spike.
Clawing at the air, Superman tried in vain to slide off the massive
intruder. It was no use. Proto One just looked on, obviously
enjoying the convulsions on his own cock. As Superman continued to
squirm, he arched over backwards. The once-mighty steel abs stood
out in perfect definition, except for the bulge running up the
center ridge. It was the outline of Proto One's dick buried inside
him! The cock clearly extended above Superman's navel. Superman
actually put his hands on his own abs and pushed himself upright
again, using the embedded cock as a lever. Exhausted, Superman lay
his head across one of Proto One's mighty pecs, his arms and legs
hanging limply. I notice Superman's legs don't hang straight down,
as Proto One's thick rod keeps them spread apart. Proto One grabs
Superman under the biceps and lifts him up, slowly sliding him up
the length of his dick. Superman's hole actually puckers outward as
it tightly grasps the moving dick. Just before the head escapes,
Proto One pulls Superman back down, once again forcing the huge,
solid meat inside his body. Superman is becoming delirious now.
His new man-cunt feels like it's being ripped apart. Proto One's
girth is too much for his now vulnerable body! Relentlessly, Proto
One continues his attack on Superman's crotch. He begins thrusting
up when he slides Superman down, and pulling back as he lifts the
babbling hunk nearly off his dick. Proto One speeds up his assault
on the ravaged Superman. More pre-cum is dripping out of the
superhero, coating Proto One's balls before finally stringing out
and dropping in great splats onto the floor. Proto One's pace
becomes more frantic until finally, he begins making loud animal
grunts. I can see his balls tighten up as he begins shooting
unearthly amounts of cum into Superman's body! Gobs of white, thick
sperm are forced out of Superman's hole with each pistoning thrust
of Proto One's dick. The hot torrent of gism continues unabated.
Superman and Proto One lock eyes as the superhuman orgasm continues.
Superman can feel the gism coating deep inside him now. Torrents of
cum continue to drench Proto One's own cock and balls, pooling in
large quantities on the floor. He is STILL coming! Proto One bends
forward and resumes pumping his meat in and out of Superman's filled
hole. Superman is being held horizontally. Proto One is holding
him by the shoulders at one end, and his still hard dick at the
other. Superman's legs flop wildly about as Proto One continues his
animalistic fucking. Finally, Proto One begins to slow down, and
starts to short stroke his cock head in and out of Superman's
spasming hole. Still ejaculating, Proto One fills the void left by
his own cock. Superman's gut is being flooded with the hot, thick
super spunk! In amazement, Superman lifts his head up and watches
his own belly become pushed out as the incredible volume of cum
fills his insides to the limit. Proto One slowly twists Superman
around on the end of his dick, until the superhero is face down.
The cock head, still dribbling cum, acts as a massive butt plug,
capping off what must be the world's largest cum douche!! Superman
is whimpering in pain now. His perfect abs are pushed out by the
gallons of cum seething inside him. At last, Proto One pulls
completely out of the hero's cunt. In one long rush, a thick stream
of hot, white cum begins gushing out of Superman's body. It coats
Proto One's own cock, balls, and thighs. The floor is now covered
in super spunk!! Proto One reaches around and begins kneeding
Superman's belly, forcing much of the gism out. Superman's stomach
has regained its normal, well-defined shape, as he gulps in much
needed air. Proto One hasn't even worked up a sweat. I see that
his balls are still high and tight around his cock root. In a
moment, they loosen up and begin hanging freely again, resuming
their previous heft. The mighty shaft begins to soften as huge wads
of cum drip off it. Proto One releases Superman, who collapses
weakly into the pool of gism. Sputtering, Superman rolls over,
pulling his face and chest out of the gism. Still gasping for
breath, Superman reaches down and begins massaging his crotch. No
thanks to Dr. Epicene, Superman's own mighty penis has been severed,
and a man-cunt cosmetically shaped. It looks out of shape now. His
hole is still gaping open after Proto One's titanic dick stretched
it. Sperm coats his crotch, inside and out. Superman's fingers
slither around his crotch as he attempts to ease the pain. Dr.
Epicene is elated, "The improvements are beyond my highest hopes!
Magnificent, just magnificent, Proto One!" Proto One stands there
grinning, his muscles standing out in sharp definition, his lower
body coated in cum. Dr. Epicene directs Todd to collect semen
samples. Grabbing an ordinary tablespoon and a beaker, Todd helps
Superman up and into a nearby chair. In a humiliating act, Todd
pushes the spoon up inside Superman's man-cunt and begins scooping
out large wads of congealing gism, dumping them into the beaker.
Superman tenses up each time the cold metal spoon enters his body,
raking away Proto One's sperm. Dr. Epicene walks over and taking a
spoonful of spunk, presses it to Superman's lips, "Eat up Superman,
this is your new meal from now on." The defeated hero reluctantly
opens his mouth as the doctor feeds the gism to him. "Good boy.
You like that so much, why don't you lick up the rest of the good
gism from Proto One's body?" Dr. Epicene said as he guided Superman
towards Proto One's cum glistened body. Superman knelt down and
obediently began lapping up the sperm. His tongue traced every
ridge and crevice on Proto One's cock, balls, and thighs until there
was no trace of sperm and Superman's belly was full of nourishing
cum. After Superman was led off to bed for some well deserved
sleep, Todd and Dr. Epicene began analysis of Proto One's muscular
body. I drifted off to sleep myself.
The next few days were spent with Proto One abusing the asshole and
man-cunt of Superman. Several times a day, Superman's body would be
flooded with Proto One's juices. Dr. Epicene would collect most of
it for his own research, the rest was fed to Superman. Superman was
in constant agony. His asshole and man-cunt were now stretched wide
open by the relentless pounding of Proto One's huge cock. Superman
had not yet been forced to endure the monster dick orally.
During one of Proto One's sessions with Superman, things took a
different twist. After climaxing inside Superman's ass, Proto One
immediately began pounding inside his man-cunt. In just a few
moments, Proto One unleashed another voluminous orgasm in Superman.
Proto One was in a sexual frenzy. Superman was nearly unconcious,
his body oozing cum from butt and groin. Proto One straddled the
superhero's face and forced his cum-slicked dick between Superman's
lips. Proto One had decided to feed Superman his sperm meal by
direct injection! The huge cock was so big, Superman could barely
stretch his mouth open wide enough. This didn't stop Proto One.
His super strength and invulnerability made him impervious to
Superman's scraping teeth. As the Super mutant pressed further into
the tight throat, all Superman could see was Proto One's red pubic
hair getting closer and closer. Superman's throat ballooned out as
the invading cock was rammed down his gullet. I could see the thick
bulge of Proto One's cock head descending down Superman's throat!
Talk about deep throat - this was one for the record books!
Superman was unable to focus his eyes on anything. Proto One had
finally mashed his groin against Superman's lips. The entire 16
inches of mutant dick was snaked down Superman's mouth and throat.
Proto One's bulging balls began swelling larger than usual. He
slowly began fucking Superman's mouth, oblivious to the fact that
Superman was gagging on the huge invader. I could actually hear
Superman's teeth scraping along Proto One's shaft. The relentless
face fucking continued as Proto One increased the speed and ferocity
of his thrusts. Trapped between Proto One's legs, Superman could
not escape. Still Proto One's nuts grew in size. As usual, Proto
One began making his animal groans and moans as his thrusting became
more frantic. His cock, slick with pre-cum and Superman's saliva,
slurped in and out of Superman's mouth. It was obvious to me that
Superman was in deep trouble now. Proto One's meaty intruder
continued to ravage Superman. Superman's face was slick with saliva
and the huge amounts of pre-cum that he was gagging up. His face
was turning red now. Grunting, Proto One's swollen bull nuts were
bouncing on either side of Superman's chin. I could tell Proto One
was close to orgasm. From the size of his balls, I also knew that
this would be the biggest load that Proto One would unleash on the
helpless hero. As Proto One thrust faster and deeper into
Superman's mouth, Superman began flailing about. Proto One was
getting more excited by Superman's distress. This caused his balls
to swell even more. The next thing I know, Proto One begins one
long groan and buries his crotch into Superman's face. I watch,
fascinated, as Proto One unloads what must be unimagineable amounts
of sperm deep inside Superman's stomach. Proto One stops thrusting,
and I can actually hear the sperm spewing into Superman! Proto
One's balls drain out, but then begin to expand again. Over and
over the cycle is repeated. Proto One's balls constrict, emptying
mass quantities of cum, only to be replinished within seconds. From
the non-stop flow, I can see Superman's belly distending. Gallons
of gism are being pumped inside Superman! And Proto One just keeps
cumming. Superman is lying flat on his back, Proto One straddling
his chest with that inhuman cock buried deep inside his throat.
Superman's heavily muscled chest, arms, thighs, and calves go limp.
His stomach continues to bulge up. He almost looks pregnant now!
Proto One's orgasm pours forth without stopping. Each time it looks
like his balls are finished, they rapidly refill themselves. Proto
One is having the longest orgasm in human history. The pressure in
Superman's stomach begins pushing sperm out of his recently filled
asshole and man-cunt! Soon, his stomach is filled beyond capacity,
and the sperm starts flooding up his throat, past the massive
invading dick. Torrents of gism begin spewing out of his mouth,
soaking Proto One's shaft. The gism is starting to leak out of
Superman's nose now. He's suffocating on Proto One's cum!
Superman's face is turning pale. Proto One's balls continue their
perpetual sperm making. More gallons of gism pour down Superman's
throat. The overflow shoots out of his lips which are stretched
tight around Proto One's throbbing dick. More gism is flowing out
of Superman's nose in a steady flow. Superman's cheeks are bulging
out, barely able to contain all the cum. His stomach is obscenely
engorged now. The ridges of his abs are faintly visible under the
tight skin of his huge cum filled gut. Finally, Proto One begins
pulling out of Superman's mouth. After withdrawing a couple of
inches, Proto One positions his balls directly alongside the shaft,
resting them on Superman's stretched lips. In a final violent
shove, Proto One thrusts his dick completely into Superman's mouth -
followed by both his swollen nuts! Superman's cheeks are stretched
out to their limits. Superman's mouth is holding Proto One's cock
AND balls. Proto One surveys Superman's agony lined face - the
heroic mouth engulfing his mutant cock and balls. Proto One puts
his hands on Superman's cheeks and begins pressing them, forcing his
own nuts to empty the last of their load deep inside Superman!
Giving a last shudder, Proto One completes his superhuman orgasm.
Slowly he stands up. Superman's mouth is still wedged tightly
around Proto One's meat and nuts. The limp figure hangs by the
mouth from Proto One's crotch. Unconcerned, Proto One walks
awkwardly around the room, admiring the sight of Superman's body
dragging behind him, Superman's face still impaled on the huge
genitals, Superman's torso curving underneath him, between his legs,
Superman's butt and legs trailing limp behind him. Cum is oozing
from Superman's asshole, man-cunt, nose, lips, and even his tear
ducts. With a satisfied grunt, Proto One gives Superman's cheeks a
few squeezes to milk the last of the man juice from his nuts.
Holding Supermans head Proto One finally pulls out the gigantic cock
and balls - now entirely coated with cum. As Superman drops back to
the floor, huge quantities of gism begin gurgling out of his mouth.
His eyes are half-shut, the cum leaking out of his tear ducts
already beginning to dry up and harden. Superman doesn't move. His
now huge belly begins to shrink a little as the hot, white cum
begins to flow out of his open mouth. Proto One looks around the
lab, searching for something to prevent the mass quantities of cum
from escaping Superman's mouth. Opening a metal container, he
removes a large dildo-shaped object. Scooping up handfuls of gism
from Superman's face and chest, Proto One pours the cum back into
Superman's open mouth. He then uses the fleshy dildo to pack the
cum back into Superman's mouth and throat! He repeatedly scoops up
more man-seed from Superman's gism-soaked body and floor. All the
sperm is being packed back inside Superman. As Proto One uses the
dildo to ramrod the gism deep inside the superhero's gullet,
Superman's cheeks swell outward, his stomach stretching larger.
Holding one hand securely over Superman's mouth, Proto One takes the
dildo and roughly forces it in and out of Superman's man-cunt.
After a few strokes, he lifts one of Superman's legs up and begins
assualting Superman's now exposed asshole with the spongey, fleshy,
dildo. Finally pulling the dildo out of Superman's asshole, he
drops the meaty leg. Holding the dildo for me to see, I realize
that it's not a dildo, but the preserved, dismembered penis of
Superman! With a wicked smile, Proto One removes his other hand
from Superman's mouth and replaces it with the preserved penis. As
one hand forces the detached meat into the cum-filled mouth, the
other hand is working Superman's slack jaw for all it's worth. I
can hear Superman's teeth mashing into the soft flesh of his own
emasculated penis. The last specimen of Superman's proud genitalia
is being tenderized inch by inch! Further and further Proto One
feeds the cock into Superman until only the cauterized cock root is
visible between the stretched and puckered lips. No more gism leaks
out as Superman's severed cock, stuffed down his throat, serves as a
plug! His defeated body rests on the floor, his gut swollen larger
than his massive pecs, filled with Proto One's mutant cum. As Proto
One watches, Dr. Epicene and Todd enter the room. Todd removes my
handcuffs. The next thing I know, he's jabbed me with a hypodermic
needle. In seconds, I go unconscious!
SCENE SIXTEEN
When I awaken, I'm in my own apartment. The bed feels so good. I
soak in the familiar sights and sounds. Wow! What a nightmare!
Climbing out of bed, I appear to be in fine shape. Should I tell my
friend Todd about this dream? I don't think so, he'd just think I'd
gone off the deep end. Falling into my usual routine, I prepare
breakfast and sit down in front of the TV to catch up on the latest
dirt about Superman and Lois Lane's wedding.
"In what appears to be the final chapter in the Superman legacy..."
the news anchor was saying, "the mysterious abduction of Superman on
his wedding night at the hands of Dr. Epicene seems to be solved.
Superman's nearly lifeless body was found today in an abandoned
warehouse. Apparently subjected to complete castration and
mutilation, Superman was also the victim of an intense rape. His
body was completely filled with male ejaculate. Eyewitnesses at the
scene report that Superman's genitalia had been completely removed
and his stomach was so full of ejaculate that it 'looked like a
melon ready to burst.' Officials declined further comment on the
matter. Lois Lane could not be reached for comment. However, we
have confirmed that Star Labs has placed Superman into cyrogenic
stasis in the hopes that some medical miracle can be used to restore
the Man of Steel. More details on this horrific story as they come
in..."
Nooooo!!!!
THE END(?) |
Obsession | GAY, BI, NULLIFICATION | The following story is based upon fact, and contains some topics which some may find offensive. Please except my sincere apologies as it is not my intent to offend anyone but to truthfully and factually depict the course of an obsession, the fine line between fantasy and reality, as well as several other ideas and topics. My personal definition of reality is that it is “simply reality waiting for the right time, the right place, and the right players to happen”. Will all three things come together so that the line can be crossed? Many times NO, as many things often are the result of chance. But in the case of an obsession, we plan out our actions, manipulate our surroundings, surround ourselves with certain people, thereby reducing or eliminating the effect of chance or luck. Accept and use this story as a fantasy, as a learning tool, as a topic of discussion depending on your needs. Feedback in the forums is welcome. | ` Let me start with a little background info on me. I am in my 40s, six feet
tall, a bit of a bear at 230 lbs, mustache and beard, and hairy chest, arms,
legs. I have that outdoor rugged look. My entire pubic area I keep shaved,
from 3 inches above my cock down around my cock, my balls and my ass. My
nicely circumcised cock is a little below average at 5”, with medium sized
balls, but is a decent thickness. Being shaved makes it look a bit bigger than
it really is. Sexually I consider myself very bi, but my actual experience
with men is quite limited. I was married for many years and love sex with
women. But over the years I have had a few experiences with men which I have
enjoyed immensely. Over the last few years more than half my fantasies have
involved men, but honestly the threat of HIV has kept me pretty much celibate
for about 8 years. Why not just find one hot lady or guy to play with? That is
easier said than done. I live a very busy lifestyle and am always on the go.
Consequently when I am in the mood (several times a day), I want it now! I
also enjoy anonymous sex, a wide variety of partners, and am heavy into kink.
With females I am equally comfortable as a Dom or sub male and can get heavy
into either role. Although equally comfortable in both roles with men, I
prefer to be sub. When the day comes that they have a vaccine for HIV, I will
be the first in line so that I can let loose and become the cum and piss
drinking, sperm enema, cum dump pig I long to be. In the meantime I have had
to be content with a very wild fantasy life, compulsive masturbation,
occasional safe sex with a hooker or mutual jack off in the adult theatres and
bookstores. `
But alas, deep passions left unfulfilled just tend to fester and grow. The
desire grows and grows, becomes more extreme, until eventually it becomes an
obsession. And so it happened to me. During my married years, sexual
experimentation led to some playful experiences with B&D;, and D&s.; My
appetite was wetted and after my divorce my experimentation increased and my
interest grew. Before long I noticed that my interests leaned more towards
S&M; and that fine line between agony and ecstasy. I have since traced my
feelings and desires back to their roots but that is the subject of a
different story. Suffice it to say, that eventually my interest in S&M; and my
submissive side got around to the idea of CBT and genital modifications.
During my play times I began to experiment with tying my genitals up, using
clamps, clips, etc. I would push my limits a little more each time. It was
like a drug. I needed a little more each time to get the same effect. I was
addicted. Soon it became an obsession, until almost every experience with man
or woman needed to have some element of it, to even get me aroused. Of course
the obsession itself grew until it reached it’s ultimate peak -the ultimate
torture, the ultimate modification – Castration/nullification. As with any
obsession, I would manipulate things to cater to my interest. I collected many
toys and objects to use in my play, some simple household items, some quite
elaborate creations. But never knowing when I would be in the mood for play,
or whom I might meet, or what opportunities would arise, I would never leave
home without at least my trusty pocket knife and something to tie my cock and
balls up with. I began telling all of my partners of my fantasy/obsession.
More often than not they would quickly gather their things and make a speedy
exit, while telling me I was sick and should get professional help. Quite
rapidly my list of available partners diminished. My sex life became more of
an individual activity. Wild fantasy and masturbation sessions became my most
frequent form of release, almost always involving some form of genital abuse
and as time went on more and more potentially dangerous practices.
Occasionally I might find a low class hooker, who for the right price (and
with a stop to pick up some drugs to get her high) could be convinced to play
along with my desires. Even most of them were too squeamish to do to much, but
I did find one (before she went to jail for 10 years on a drug charge) who if
high enough would do some minor surface cutting. A potentially dangerous
practice? Yes it was. But part of the thrill for some of us, is not knowing
how far a partner might go. Will he or she stop at the first drop of blood? Or
will they go just a little further. Or will the sight of the blood spur their
own excitement, push them over the edge, and drive them to really do it? But
after a few times with a partner and knowing their limit, or after a couple of
months of masturbating to a fantasy, the desire would begin to fade and I
would need a new partner, or a new fantasy to keep the excitement intact.
And so it began with a new fantasy. A local bookstore I frequented was the
setting. Several of the booths contained the infamous glory holes. Many times
I would masturbate and lightly lick the variety of cocks thrust through into
my booth, but I would stop short of giving into my burning desire to take them
fully into my mouth and suck them to completion. My fear of HIV also prevented
me from sticking my cock through the holes, not knowing what the person on the
other side might have. Several months ago the glory holes were opened up. Now
instead of just a 4” hole thru the wall, there were 24 by 24 inch square
openings. These allowed full unobstructed view of everything in the next
booth, as well as putting ones head or hands thru to the other side. This
allowed uninhibited mutual masturbation thru the holes but whenever the other
guys would make a move to try and suck on me, I would back away. I would then
retreat to the chair in the booth safely out of reach and continue
masturbating as they watched. Sometimes they would stare thru the hole begging
to suck on my shaved cock and balls. Sometimes I would move just close enough
for them to reach me, but not close enough to suck me and then shoot off in
their outstretched hand. Other times I would just finish masturbating and
shoot off or shoot in my hand and lick it off. One thing I noticed was that in
the early hours of the morning the crowd tended to be a bit more hardcore. A
couple of times I had watched a guy get fucked right in the hallway between
the booths.
This was the setting for my new fantasy. For about 3 weeks it was very vivid
and I got hard every time I thought of it. But as always it soon began to fade
in intensity. I could discard it and come up with a new one, or I could move
on to making it somewhat of a reality. I decided on the later. I would need a
couple of items so I headed off the next weekend to the local flea market.
Several vendors there specialized in cheap imported knives. I wanted something
inexpensive in the lock blade style with about a 3 inch blade. I soon found
what I was looking for, slim, lightweight, it probably wouldn’t hold an edge
long, but it would work. At $4 a piece I got 6 of them. I might need to make
several attempts to find the right participant. I took them home and sharpened
them to a crisp sharp edge. For the rest of the day I had butterflies in my
stomach over the thought of playing with the fantasy a little. As it was going
to be a late night, I thought it best to take a nap in the late afternoon. I
tossed and turned for better than an hour as I was so excited about the
potential the evening might hold. I thought about masturbating to calm myself
down but I wanted to save it all for the evening. Finally I did manage to dose
off for a little while, but it was a sleep filled with wild dreams. I awoke
with my cock harder than it had been in ages. It was dark outside, but I still
had a few hours to go. I got up and prepared a light dinner, just a couple of
hot dogs and a salad. As I was eating the hotdogs my mind raced with wild
fantasies. After eating I headed to the bathroom where I showered and
freshened up the shave job on my cock, balls and ass. I wanted them perfectly
smooth without the slightest trace of stubble. I added a liberal coating of
oil to make them shine and glisten in the light. I was hard as a rock and was
tempted to stroke myself to an orgasm, but wanted to save it and build the
excitement. I then headed to the living room totally nude where I settled down
to have a couple of beers and kill the next couple of hours. My plan was to go
to the bookstore about 2:30 AM when the hardcore crowd as there. As I sat
enjoying a couple of beers I popped in a couple of my favorite gay porno
videos. It was pure agony not to reach down and stroke my hard cock and
several times I had to stop the video for a few minutes to calm down and keep
from shooting my load all over. Finally it was time. I slipped on just a pair
of cotton gym shorts (no underwear) and a T-shirt. I put a pair flip flops on
my feet and I was set to go. I downed another quick beer before I left the
house for the 15 minute drive to the bookstore. I threw another beer and my
toys in the car and off I went. When I got to the bookstore I stopped around
the corner and popped the top on the beer I had brought with me. I downed it
rapidly to calm my nerves a little. Then I stuck a few of my favorite toys
(heavy duty industrial rubber bands) and a couple of the cheap knives in my
pocket. I checked to be sure my T-shirt hung low enough to cover any bulge in
my pocket from the knives. It did, plus the knives were so thin and
lightweight there was hardly any bulge anyway. Assured that everything was
ready, I pulled around the corner into the bookstore parking lot. As I got out
of the car, I felt a slight nervous wobble in my legs. I entered the store and
wasted no time in going straight to the counter. I handed the clerk a $20 bill
and asked for 20 $1 bills for the video booths. As I held out the $20 I
noticed my hand was shaking nervously. The clerk didn’t seem to notice as he
handed me the bills. I then headed into the dark back room where the video
booths were.
Once in the back I began to relax a little. Plus the beer was kicking in just
a little helping me to relax. I looked around giving my eyes a chance to
adjust to the darkness. A few of the booths were occupied and there were a
couple of guys standing around in the hallways. I positioned myself in the far
back hallway where I had a clear view of the very back booths. These were my
favorites. They were way in the back away from the entrance so they were much
more secluded and private. One of them was occupied. I waited patiently. I
needed just a few seconds with both booths empty. After about 5 minutes the
door of the booth opened and the guy walked out. He looked at me as he walked
by and then turned the corner. Now was my chance. I slipped into the first of
the 2 booths and quickly grabbed one of the knives from my pocket. I reached
down and placed it on the chair in the booth as if it had fallen out of
someone’s pocket. I then exited the booth and returned to my spot in the
hallway. A few minutes later a couple of guys came around the corner and
headed for the booths. One of them went into each of the end booths. Damn,
just my luck. Within a couple of minutes of the videos starting, I heard some
groans and grunts coming from one of the booths. It was obvious that one of
the guys was getting royally fucked thru the glory hole. Realizing I had a few
minutes I entered a booth and watched a hot video to keep my excitement up.
After a few minutes, I heard the doors open on the other two booths. I waited
another minute and then exited mine. The hallway and booths were empty so I
stuck my head in. The knife was gone. Guess the guy must have just put it in
his pocket. I still had one more in my pocket to try before I would have to go
out to the car to get the others. Quickly I repeated the process, placing the
folded knife on the chair. This time instead of waiting in the hallway, I
quickly entered the adjacent booth, locking the door behind me. I bent over
and looked thru the opening in the wall and could clearly see the knife
sitting on the chair.
I put a dollar bill in the slot on the wall and the videos started. I pushed
the selection button, scrolling thru several straight videos, and a lesbian
one, when I spotted one with a sexy transsexual and a hot guy. I have always
loved transsexuals - the best of both worlds and this one was super sexy. As I
watched I felt my cock growing hard. I began stroking it through my shorts
when I heard someone enter the booth next to me. I positioned myself so I
could see partway thru the wall opening without bending over to much. The guy
inserted his money into the machine and I heard the video start. He scrolled
thru a few until I heard a hot gay flick playing, then I heard the tell tale
sound of a zipper as he unzipped his pants. As he positioned himself in the
booth he backed against the chair and I heard it slide backwards a little. As
I watched, he reached down and picked up the knife, then slipped it in his
pocket. Then he let his pants drop to his knees and he sat down on the chair.
As he reached down to stroke his cock, I got a good look at it. It was about 7
inches soft with an uncut head, and he had a large set of low hanging shaved
balls. As he began stroking himself with one hand he used his other to
unbutton his shirt and play with his nipples. Taking this as a clue that he
would be there for a few minutes, I put several bills in the machine so the
video would play uninterrupted, and then I immediately pulled my T-shirt over
my head and dropped it on the chair. Then I began to lower my shorts. As I
raised my foot to take off my shorts, I kicked off my flip flop. I pulled my
foot out of my shorts and then stepped barefoot onto the floor. I immediately
felt the remains of who knows how many loads of cum. The shear nastiness of it
sent a thrill through me. I quickly kicked off my other shoe and took my
shorts completely off throwing them on the chair. I was now totally nude and
standing barefoot on the cum covered floor. I noticed the guy in the next
booth had shifted position so he could observe what I was doing from the waist
down. I turned around and bent over giving him a full view of my shaved
asshole as I reached onto the chair and got one of the rubber bands out of my
pocket. Then I turned back around and as I watched the hot transsexual giving
a blow job to the hot guy, I spread my legs as far as I could and proceeded to
place the heavy duty band around the top of my ball sac. I twisted it several
times until it hugged the top of my sac tightly. I pulled down on my balls
pulling as much of my sac down below the band as possible before putting the
last 2 twists on. Then I sat down in the chair facing the opening in the wall.
I watched as the guy in the next booth pulled his chair over until he was
right against the wall opening, facing towards me. I could see him stroking
his hard cock which appeared to have grown another full inch and was fat as
can be. He bent forward so that his head was level with the opening and he was
peering directly at me. As he watched, I stroked my hard cock and lightly
caressed and squeezed my tied balls. I could feel that my balls were beginning
to get a little cooler than the rest of my body due to the greatly reduced
flow of blood to them. He watched as I moved both my hands to just above my
cock pulling my skin upwards so that he could see the full extent of my shaved
crotch. He licked his lips seductively and I returned the gesture. I watched
him wipe some precum from the head of his cock and raise it to his lips where
he licked it from his fingers. He gestured for me to come closer so he could
suck on me, but as always I stayed aloof, and continued to stroke myself. He
watched me for a couple more minutes, gesturing 3 or 4 more times for me to
come closer. As I stroked myself. I was moving my feet along the floor feeling
the mixture of cum between my toes and felling nastier and nastier. Finally I
sensed that he was starting to loose interest so I reached down and wrapped my
fingers around the top of my sac and then squeezed tightly pulling my balls as
far as I could away from my body. Then I took my other hand and began lightly
caressing them. Then I released them and with one hand continued stroking my
cock, bringing it up against my stomach. This left my balls fully exposed for
his view. Then I positioned my other hand with my index and middle fingers
held like the blades of a pair of scissors. And slid them around my sac with
my index finger in front and my middle finger in back, then brought my fingers
together like I was closing the blades on my sac. I threw my head back with a
look of ecstasy as I looked into his eyes. I again had his curious interest. I
then slid my ass forward to the edge of the chair and removing my hand from my
sac, I reached down and inserted two fingers into my asshole. He watched as I
stroked my fingers in and out several times. Then I let go of my cock and
reached down and grasped my balls pulling them down away from my body. Then I
took my fingers out of my ass and again positioned them like a pair of
scissors off to the side of my balls. As I looked into his eyes, I pursed my
lips together into an O shape like I was saying Ohhhhhhhhhhhh HOT, and began
opening and closing my two fingers several times like a pair of scissors as I
moved them slowly towards my stretched sac. As I again slid them over my sac,
I saw his mouth move whispering “Are you serious?” As I looked into his eyes,
I very slowly almost imperceptibly nodded my head YES. I saw him reach down
and begin fumbling in the pocket of his pants, and watched as he brought his
hand up and opened the blade on the knife. He held it so that I could see the
light flicker off the blade. I could see his cock leaking copious amounts of
precum. Again he looked at me and again whispered “Are you sure?” Looking
straight into his eyes, I raised my hand to my lips and lightly kissed my
finger tips. Then slowly I lowered my fingers and lightly touched first one
ball then the other. Then I withdrew my fingers and then hesitated. Very
slowly I extended my index finger and pointed to my cock. A look of
unbelievable lust came into his eyes as he slowly considered than slowly
nodded his head YES. I reached behind me into my shorts pocket and withdrew
another band. As he watched I placed it over both my cock and balls all the
way to the base and then twisted it and slipped it back over them again
several times, until finally twisting it 2 more times and slipping it just
over my cock. Then as if in a trance I slowly stood up and turned around and
slowly backed towards the opening. As I got close enough for him to reach, I
felt his hand reach out and gently grab my balls and slowly pull me closer to
the opening. I bent over as I felt my ass cheeks touch the wall. I leaned my
hands on the chair as I felt his hand wrap completely around the base of my
cock and balls and pull them to his side of the wall. I wiggled my ass to get
as much of it through the opening as I could. As I felt his fat cock touch my
asshole and begin to slip inside, I felt his grip tighten around my package
and the cold steel of the blade against my sac. As I felt his cock enter me
all the way, I felt something warm start trickling down my sac and felt the
blade pressing harder and his hand pulling harder. As I felt the blade go a
little further, I felt him let go of my balls. His body pressed against my ass
pinning my cock and balls against his side of the wall, pressing them down
like they were on a cutting board. As one hand pressed the blade against my
sac, I felt the other arm snake thru the opening and lock around my waist
keeping me from escaping. And as I looked down I noticed a medical ID bracelet
around his wrist. As I felt his precum lubricating my now widely stretched and
beginning to bleed ass, I knew I was about to become a cum and piss drinking,
sperm enema, cum dump EUNUCH pig.
As I sit here reading what I just wrote and masturbating to my latest fantasy,
I can’t help but say……….I went to the flea market today and bought 6 small
lock blade knives!
* * * |
Peter's Gift, Part II | GAY, PENECTOMY, Other: Self realization.... | The next step in an unusual love affair. | Peter’s Gift, Part II -- By Eric S.
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As I removed the gag, I slipped into the bed next to Peter and
snuggled into his body. Both of us stared at the still hard penis
laying on his chest. . . . . . . .
END PART I
Peter’s body was completely motionless for what seems like an
eternity, but eventually, he took a deep breath and whispered in my
ear, "Thank you, Kevin." My arms were wrapped tightly around his
torso, my face pressed gently against his. As I raised myself up on
one arm, I looked into his eyes for the first time, and that
gentleness and peace which had first made me fall in love had
returned. "I love you, Peter, with all of my heart and soul. Now you
are mine forever." We kissed deeply and passionately for the first
time in weeks, and it became clear to me that I had done the right
thing. But there was still the health matter to be concerned with –
I had no idea if his stump would get infected, and we both knew that
he couldn’t seek medical attention for this wound. There had to be
some other alternative.
After about fifteen minutes, the anesthetic I had given Peter began
to take effect, and he drifted into a deep, contented sleep. He
deserved it after everything he had been through, but there was still
a lot to be done. Before I began to untie the straps holding his
arms and legs to the bedposts, I quickly cut off the excess catheter
and washed the end of his stump with antiseptic solution. Once he
was untied and clean, I applied a bandage to his crotch, cutting a
small hole in the fiber to allow the catheter to reach the outside.
It was then that his penis again caught my eye. It was still resting
on his chest, but after all this time, it had deflated to its flaccid
state. Just a couple of inches of soft skin and tissue, a forlorn
manhood without a master. I knew that Peter would not want to think
of it again once he awoke, but I felt that it deserved some memorial,
some special resting place. I picked it up and cradled it gently in
my hands, brushing the now purple head with my lips.
After pulling the covers up snugly around Peter’s sleeping form, I
slipped on my shirt and coat and headed for the door. The quick walk
to the university gardens took only a few minutes, but I glanced
around in every direction fearful that someone might guess the
contents of my right fist. Once I arrived at the gardens, I walked
slowly around the paths trying to find just the right spot. Finally,
I came upon a bed of rose bushes – they were still dormant from the
winter, but soon they would be in full bloom, a centerpiece of the
verdant display. With my left hand, I dug about a foot deep between
two of the rear bushes and laid the penis there. As I covered the
hole, I whispered, "Goodbye old friend. I always loved you, too, but
you came between my mate and his happiness. Rest well."
Peter’s recovery was my first priority, though, so I couldn’t rest
long there thinking about what I had done. An idea was forming in my
head as to how I could surreptitiously obtain medical care for the
wound. Just beyond the garden was a dumpster around which were
strewn cigarette wrappers and empty beer bottles and cans. I grabbed
one of the bottles and broke it on the side of the brick walk. Me
left shoe slid off easily enough, and with closed eyes, I pressed the
broken glass into the meat of my heel. The two inch cut hurt like
hell, but I rushed the best I could to the infirmary where I was
given a few stitches, a bottle of ointment, bandages, and a
prescription for antibiotics. I hobbled to Sherman Street and filled
the script before rushing back to the dorm.
Peter was still asleep when I returned, but he awoke as soon as I
pulled back the covers to investigate his cut. He kissed me groggily
as I propped his head on a few pillows then fell back to sleep. I
removed the bandage and applied the ointment and fresh pads. There
had been minimal leakage from the cut in the hours I was gone, and
the rubber tourniquet remained tight and solid. With any luck, the
rubber would hold for a week or two while Peter’s body healed
itself. Then that small flap of tissue on the end would fall off
leaving a reformed piss-hole where the catheter exited. I slipped
off my clothes, woke Pete briefly to take a couple of antibiotics,
and crawled back into the warm bed beside him. Before I knew it, the
pressure of that long night passed into sleep.
As the sun slowly crept up the brick wall of my dorm room, I awoke
still holding Peter close to me. He was already awake, and as I
sleepily looked into his eyes I was content myself for the first time
in months. Over the next few weeks, things progressed very nicely.
After only a few days, Pete felt up to returning to class, but I made
him wear a cup to avoid any chance of injury. He had a new lease on
life and engaged his studies with a newfound determination. While
our sex life was seemingly on permanent hold, our relationship
blossomed. We became closer than I ever though possible – we shared
everything in our daily lives, our pasts, and our dreams and hopes
for the future. For some reason, our hours of snuggling were more
than enough to sate my physical desires.
His cut healed nicely – I don’t know if that was due to the
antibiotics or not, but within two weeks, the ring of tissue beyond
the rubber fell off in his sleep. The resulting stump appeared a
very health pink, and when we removed the catheter Peter suffered no
discomfort while peeing and no loss of bladder control. The stump
was quite a bit smaller than I had expected given where I had made
the cut, but I guess I’d not figured into the equation the fact that
more than an inch of tissue would be falling off later. Once he was
fully healed, the stump was normally camouflaged completely in the
soft bed of dark blond pubic hair that decorated Peter’s groin.
When standing he resembled one of those ancient statues of Apollo
where the penis had been chipped off by Victorian archeologists.
Our lives had become as idyllic as his form.
One night, about six weeks after my birthday, Peter and I had been
studying all evening and settled into the bed. As we were snuggling
the aroma and feel of his body quickly gave me an erection as it
always had, but this night instead of merely enjoying our emotional
intimacy, Peter wrapped his hand around my member and began to
stroke. Without thought, we indulged our desires, kissing and
rubbing more urgently as the night wore on. Pete slipped down my
body and quickly took me in his mouth. Within seconds my cock was
pulsing with rhythmic ecstasy as I filled his mouth with my seed. As
I attempted to reciprocate, we discovered that Peter’s stump was
without sexual feeling, but as I slipped my mouth lower to his balls
and pucker, he began to writhe in pleasure. Each time my tongue
flicked past the wrinkled skin of his hole, moans escaped Pete’s
lips. After only a few minutes Peter gasped, "I cumming!" I quickly
began to work his hole with my fingers as my mouth moved to his stump
to catch his seed, but instead of a spurting flood only a steady
drool of silky fluid came out. As I looked into Peter’s eyes, a mask
of total surprise took form on his face. I then realized that his
hips were still thrusting against my hand, that his stump was still
dribbling seed, and it had been fifteen minutes since his orgasm had
begun. Peter’s body was glistening with sweat, and his balls were so
tight to his body they looked like they were trying to crawl back
inside. Finally, Peter cried out, "I can’t take any more!"
As I embraced him fully, his body shuddered and became limp in my
arms. "Kevin," he said breathlessly, "I’ve never even thought. . . .
That could have lasted for hours I think. . . . But it got too
intense. . . . Like my entire body. . . . Was rippling with pricks
of pleasure." As I gently rubbed his nipples, his body shuddered
again with rigid pleasure. "Oh yes," was all he could manage as I
continued to grind his nipple between my fingers. But after another
few minutes, he couldn’t take any more stimulation.
Over the next few days as we re-explored our physical connection, we
discovered that almost every spot on his body other than his stump
could bring him to extended orgasm. Our favorite love making
involved me fucking him – that way we could both enjoy the experience
simultaneously. As soon as I entered him, his body would tense with
pleasure, and each thrust of my hips would send him into convulsions
of ecstasy. I soon learned how to last for up to an hour while
fucking him, but an hour was the most he could take. His body became
so wrapped up in these intense sensations that each love making
session left him on the verge of complete exhaustion. I was amazed
and very pleased to find that Peter was again able to enjoy a
physical relationship.
While our sex life and emotional relationship were the best they had
ever been, our lives had regained some sense of routine. It was now
May, and the summer was too quickly approaching. Peter and I came
from different parts of the country and we had been unable to find
any excuse to stay together during the summer. Neither of us was out
to our parents or friends, and neither of us was ready to take that
step. Peter was afraid of his parents reactions – he was afraid that
if they found out he had a lover, they would disown him and he’d no
longer be able to afford school. I wasn’t really worried about my
family’s reaction, but my father was quite ill and I didn’t want to
burden him with having to deal with my sexuality during his
sickness. Our concerns centered mainly on the mere fact of our
sexuality – God forbid that anyone find out about what we had done.
Finally, our last exams were turned in and it was time for us to say
our temporary good-byes. The next day, each of us would head a
different direction, but tonight was ours to be together. We went to
dinner at a nice, romantic restaurant on Sherman Street and returned
to my room with a bottle of wine. The room was covered with packed
boxes that I would have to lug to the storage area first thing in the
morning, and our bags were packed by the door. The windows were open
on this hot May night, and the soft scent of jasmine floated in the
window as we settled on the bare mattress of our bed. We sat and
talked for hours as we passed the bottle back and forth, but soon the
hands on my watch approached midnight, and we slowly began to undress.
As our naked forms began to intertwine on the rough cotton of the
mattress, our eyes met, and we knew that each of us fully belonged
with the other. As my penis entered him, our souls became one. The
moist tightness of him sucked with each pulse of our bodies making my
cock more rigid with each breath. Soon, our bodies gleamed with
wetness as those precious minutes of pleasure ticked by. With each
thrust of my hips, Peter called out my name, no longer experiencing
any reality but our love. Our continuing love making produced a
slick of Peter’s cum and our sweat between us, and I gave into the
raw sensuousness of our bodies sliding and rubbing. I couldn’t quite
imagine what it was that Peter felt when his orgasm covered all of
his flesh, but our love making that night gave me a sense of it.
Peter grasped my hands in his as I approached climax, and we stared
into each others eyes as I finally had my own intense orgasm. Once
my seed had pumped itself completely into Peter, we collapsed into
each other, falling asleep without thought or word.
That night I had the first in a long series of dreams that grew more
unusual and more urgent in my subconscious. Seemingly the instant I
lost consciousness, I was whisked to another place and time. I was
standing naked in an open field of lavender. Though the sun beat
down intensely, a gentle breeze cooled my naked skin. I was utterly
alone in the wilderness, but for some reason, I felt surrounded, as
if I were in a place of sanctuary where those pursuing me could not
reach me, but I felt them around me nonetheless. As I slowly
adjusted to the environs of the dreamscape, I realized that not only
was I naked, but that I was fully erect, painfully so. At first, I
tried to ignore it – what a time to need to beat off, when some
presence was after me, surrounding me.
I began to walk towards the edge of the glade, towards the trees, in
a hope of finding some escape from my pursuers. Soon, I realized
that wasn’t getting any closer to the trees, so I began to run.
Still I wasn’t getting any closer to the trees, but I could feel my
pursuers getting closer – the urgency of escape grew geometrically.
I was running at full speed, sweating, exhausted, in pain, in panic,
when I tripped on a stone. As I fell, everything started to move in
slow motion. In a second, I could sense every aspect of my body, my
aching muscles and feet, my pounding heart, my rank sweat covered
skin, and my now throbbing cock. Once I again noticed the urgency in
my loins, my fall resumed in regular speed. But instead of falling
into the hard ground, I fell into a soft body.
All of a sudden, I was in the back seat of my father’s old Buick
Regal. As I raised my head, I realized this was the night I had lost
my virginity to a girl. Beth Crenshaw lay beneath me and was madly
trying to hike up her dress. My jeans were already undone and my
cock was poking out from under the tail of my shirt. She grabbed it
with he hand and guided me down into her pussy. She was very wet,
and as I slid inside I realized that I had no control over my body.
I could feel everything that I felt that night, but I had no power to
stop what was happening. I was repulsed by what was happening, but I
could feel my hips thrusting and hear her moaning, and I could feel
her silky canal milking me. Even though that first night I had cum
in about three humps, after what seemed an eternity, I was still
humping to no avail. Beth was no longer moaning in pleasure, but
begging me to stop.
Within a beat of my heart, I was again standing in the middle of the
field, still feeling my pursuer closing in. Seemingly, nothing had
changed. I was naked, erect, and exactly where I had started. I
began to think about alternative ways to get out of the field and out
of view of my pursuers, and devised a plan. I would camouflage
myself with dirt and lavender to make myself blend in with the
field. I would have to lay perfectly still, but it might work.
Quickly, I began to cover myself with earth and picking long stalks
of the herb to tie around my arms and legs. Within minutes, I was
done and laying still, hoping to avoid detection. I knew right away
that it wasn’t working – I could still feel them looking at me. So I
glanced around my bed trying to find anything that might be giving me
away – just as quickly, I found it. My cock was still erect and
jutting out from my supine form. I was at least three feet long and
bright red, like a beacon for anyone search the field. Shit, what
could I do? I tried turning over, but I couldn’t get the damn thing
to lay against my stomach. My only alternative was to jerk off and
deflate it.
As sat up and took it in my hand, it returned to normal size, but it
was still hard, so I started jerking. The more I jerked, the harder
it got, the more painful it became. It wasn’t exactly pain, it was
an urgency so intense that it became painful. Normally it only took
me a minute or two to jerk off when I wanted to make it quick, but
for some reason, the no matter how much I jerked it, I couldn’t cum.
It felt so good, but I knew I was in danger. I just didn’t have time
to be rubbing my cock while my pursuers were closing in, but I
couldn’t stop. Both my hand and cock were becoming raw and I could
feel blisters forming, but events were in equilibrium – I couldn’t
change anything.
Just as quickly as I had shifted into my dad’s Regal, I shifted and
was in my dorm room at school. Peter was under me, and I was fucking
him hard. Not a soft love making, but an angry fucking. I could
tell this was the first night we had made love many months ago, but
somehow the night was different. Peter was crying out in pain as I
fucked him, but again I had no control over my body. I was just an
observer of this warped history. Finally after what seemed hours, I
pulled out of Peter and started jerking off. My penis was covered in
his blood and he was crying into his pillow, but I swung my legs off
the bed and kept single-mindedly stroking myself.
Then I was back in the field. Clean of the dirt and shrub, I was
standing in the middle of the field. I could only see them in my
peripheral vision, and only for an instant, but my pursuers were
getting closer, circling around me. By this time I was madly trying
to beat myself off, the skin on my cock almost non-existent. I was
using my finger nails to get more sensation in the now consuming
attempt to cum before my pursuers arrived. As I dug deeper and
deeper into the flesh of my cock, there was no pain from the physical
damage, only the pain of the urgency to cum. Finally, my nails
ripped through the last sinews at the base of my cock and it came off
in my hand with a flood and blood and semen. I looked around and my
pursuers were gone – as I looked down, Peter lay before me, and it
was his penis that I had rip off with my hands. He lay serenely
smiling at me in his way. It was then that I noticed my penis was
fully intact and flaccid, but the feel of Peter’s penis in my hands
was exciting me and my cock was growing.
As my cock became fully erect again, I could hear the scraping and
scuffling of my pursuers returning. Peter sat up and took my cock in
his hand, "Let me help you, Kevin." With that he took me in his
mouth and began sucking me off. The slippery feel of his tongue and
lips on my throbbing penis almost instantly sent me over the edge.
Again, time slowed to a snail’s pace. As my fist spurt of cum
splashed on the back of his throat, though, my pleasure was mixed
with agony. Peter’s teeth were crushing their way though the shaft
of my penis. My first reaction was to beg him to stop because the
pain was horrendous and I was terrified of losing my manhood. But
within a few heart beats the pleasure of my orgasm took me away and I
whispered, "Please Peter, chew it off, eat my cock, save me. . . . "
As I felt the last tissues snap loose, I fell into his arms. I knew
the ordeal was over, and that I was safe.
The next morning, when I awoke, Peter was already dressed and
organizing his things. He had to catch a cab in the next few minutes
to make his flight. I Still had a few hours to pack our stuff away
in storage and start my drive home. We kissed, hugged and said our
tearful good-byes. Peter was gone before I knew it and I was left to
pull myself together for what I had to do to get ready for my own
travels. I hadn’t mentioned my dream to Peter, and I didn’t even
know what to make of it myself. With the hustle-bustle of the day’s
activities and the long drive ahead of me, I didn’t give it another
thought. I was too worried about how I was going to make it three
months without Peter.
To make a long story a little shorter, the summer passed without
major event. I worked at a construction sight back home – it was
tiring work, but it paid well and kept me in really good shape. It
was good to be home, and I enjoyed the summer for what it was, my
last summer with family. My libido was nil during those months. I’m
not sure that I masturbated a total of a dozen times the whole
summer, but I was always longing to get back to Peter and our life
together. I had continued to have some really bizarre dreams, but
they were infrequent and I had become used to them. All of the
dreams took the same form, I was being chased and my penis kept
giving me away. My only salvation was having it removed, usually by
Peter. I really didn’t think much about them at the time, and when I
did I figured they were just some manifestation of my guilt for
cutting off Peter’s penis. I rationalized that guilt away by
thinking of how much happier he was now that his most ultimate desire
had been fulfilled.
When it came time to return to school, I was just as giddy as could
be. I could hardly contain my excitement over seeing Peter again –
it was all set up: We would be living together in a two bedroom
dorm. I felt like a prospective groom about to see his soon to be
spouse again after a long separation. During my long drive back to
school, all I could think about was falling into Peter’s arms and
holding him like a drowning man holds a life preserver.
It was a bright blue September afternoon when I pulled off of Sherman
street into the parking lot behind our new dorm. Peter was supposed
to have arrived the day before, and since I had pack our stuff away,
he was going to get it out of storage. I dashed up the stairs and
down the hall to room 314. As I threw open the doors, Peter was
lying on the bed asleep. The boxes were all still piled up in the
common room, but he had started to unpack the bedroom stuff. I guess
he’d gotten tuckered out after carrying all of the junk up three
flights of stairs. He was a sleeping Adonis laying there in a sweaty
t-shirt and a pair of dark green basketball shorts. I immediately
noticed the flatness of his bulge and smiled to myself. As I tip-
toed across the room, a creaking board awoke Peter, and he jumped up
to greet me. "Kevin, it’s so good to see you," he murmured as our
lips met. Before either of us new it, we were making out heatedly on
the bed. I had one hand down his shorts fingering his hole and he
had one down mine stroking gently.
I pulled back gently, "Hey, Peter, we have a whole year to play
around, tell me about your summer and how you are doing!"
"It wasn’t too bad, though my Mom can be a real witch. Work at the
hospital was a lot of fun, and I’m sure I want to be a doctor now.
But it was all hell being separated from my widdle Kevy." I jumped
on him and started tickling him all over, and before we knew it we
were giving in to our original impulse. Within a few minutes, our
clothes were in the middle of the floor. Peter was irresistible, and
my tongue was flitting all over his sweaty body trying to lick his
essence up. Even before the cut, Peter had been sensitive to
licking, but now this was magnified, especially after our absence.
As I was sucking the scented sweat of his pits, Peter began flex and
moan in ecstasy. I pulled his legs over my shoulders and slowly
pressed myself inside. This sent him into the convulsions of orgasm,
and they continued for nearly a half hour. When finally we said he’d
had enough, I began concentrating on my own orgasm. To my surprise,
I couldn’t cum. After a frantic three more minutes of humping, I
finally faked it, tensing my ass and humping hard three or four times
like I was shooting.
I pulled out and fell down next to Peter, and it was obvious he
hadn’t noticed the difference. He rolled on top of me and kissed me
deeply. "Hey, you’re still up for more, aren’t you, Kevin?" My cock
was still hard and Peter went down on it. I indulged the pleasure
for a few minutes, but try as I might, I still couldn’t cum.
Finally, I pulled Peter off my cock. "Pete, these boxes aren’t going
to unpack themselves, " I said as I tickled him. He seemed satisfied
that I’d had enough and we both began setting up our new room. The
work was tough, but we finally plugged in the last stereo components
and TV and fell on the couch exhausted around midnight. We watched
the end of some HBO comedy special and fell asleep right there, not
even having the energy to move to the bedroom.
It was still a week before classes started, so we spent a lot of our
time during that week fooling around with each other. Out of
countless sessions of love-making, though, I only came once. All
the other times, I faked it for Peter’s sake. I couldn’t figure out
what was wrong with me. At first, I was sure that it was a phase
brought on by our long separation, but when I thought more about it,
that didn’t make much sense. When you have a long sexual dry spell,
you’re more likely to cum, not less. It was then that the dreams
began again in earnest. The night before classes started, I had the
most vivid dream yet. Peter had gone to sleep early to get ready for
an 8 AM orgo lab, and I had stayed up late since my first class
wasn’t until Tuesday.
I was watching some stupid movie when I fell asleep on the couch.
The dream was so intense that I woke myself up. When I was finally
awake, I realized that there was a dull pain in my groin. When I
looked down, my hand was in my boxers. As I touched my cock, it was
rock hard and bloody raw. I must have been jerking it in my sleep,
acting out the dream. Peter was still asleep, so I waddled into the
bedroom and got under the covers. I didn’t sleep a wink, but I
played possum when Peter began to stir. He got ready for class and
left without incident, but how was I going to explain my cock the
next time he decided to go down on me? I thought about it all day
while he was gone. I would tell him a half truth. I would admit
that I was having trouble cumming, but I wouldn’t tell him about the
dreams. They were just too messed up to talk about. I had done it
to myself trying to jerk off. That much at least was true.
When he finally go home from classes about 5 PM, he looked
pizzlesprung. I had made a nice dinner and sat him down at the table
while rubbing his shoulders. After we ate, he immediately started to
get amorous. When he playfully pulled down my pants, he stopped in
his tracks. My cock was a shriveled up purple mass covered in
scabs. I sat down on the couch, my head in my hands as he sat beside
me. "What on earth happened, Kev?" I told him my prearranged story,
and he just sat there in shock. "Don’t you love me anymore?"
"Of course I love you, Peter. This has nothing to do with you, it’s
me. I don’t know what’s happening to me. You turn me on more than
ever, but for some reason I can’t let myself cum. It’s like I just
can’t let go."
"Why didn’t you tell me. Please don’t ever feel like you have to
fake anything with me, Kevin. You are my whole world, and I love you
more than life itself. Nothing that you do, nothing that happens to
you, could ever change the way I feel."
I slumped into his chest and started crying.
END PART II |
For the love of Jason, Part 14 | GAY, PENECTOMY, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION, MINOR | For the love of Jason (part 14)
[GAY] [TESTICLES] [NULLIFICATION] [MINOR]
This story takes place in 2425, 400 years after the Great War of 2025. New
societies have emerged from the Great War; one is very technologically
advanced while others have returned to the Middle Ages. Alexander is from the
technologically advanced society and a very wealthy young man, having
inherited a huge fortune when his father died. At 20 years of age, he decides
to make the trip to the capital’s slave market to buy himself a boy-toy.
Someone he could have sex with but someone he could also love. At the slave
market he finds all he was looking for, and much more than that. Not only does
he find love, but he also finds his own destiny.
____________________________________________________________
A week after the discussion Peter had with Alex and Jason concerning Henry,
one of Peter’s old teacher, a renown psychotherapist, arrived on the Island to
continue and finish Henry’s therapy.
“The shrink has arrived”, Squirt announced one afternoon, rolling his eyes…
“Better keep your mouth shut cause if not, we’ll ask him to have a few
sessions with you”, Jason answered.
Squirt ran away screaming: “Over my dead body…”
Of course, Jason and Alex laughed their asses off…
But indeed, the “shrink” had arrived. Alex and Jason went to see him and after
their visit to the clinic, they both concluded that they wouldn’t want to have
him as a friend! They guy was certainly competent, but he was weird. He was
also as ugly as a sin…
“Poor Henry. He won’t get hard looking at this guy…”, Jason commented…
Alex smiled and shook his head “no”…
Peter had explained everything to Henry. That because of his love for him, he
couldn’t continue to be his doctor. That for the rest of his therapy, it was
preferable that they don’t see each other, but that at the end of his therapy,
Peter would be there for him.
Henry said he understood and, as Peter was about to leave him he said:
“I love you Peter. With all my heart, I do…”
“And so do I”, Peter answered with tears in his eyes.
The “shrink” then took charge of Henry.
Two days later, the “shrink” had a private meeting with Alex and Jason, to
give them his preliminary report.
“I’m very proud of what Peter did in Henry’s case”, the shrink said. “He did a
real good job. I evaluate that three weeks of intensive therapy will be quite
enough for me to make a final evaluation. We have a very interesting case
here, don’t we?”
Alex looked at the shrink. He wasn’t smiling at all. “Interesting you say?”,
he asked, in a detached voice…
“Well… from a psychoanalytic point of view, of course. Of course, you were
Henry’s victim so I guess your point of view might be slightly different from
mine…”
“Of course”, Alex answered, thinking to himself “what a jerk”…
Really, Alex definitely didn’t like the guy…
The week after, the tattoo expert from the capital also arrived on the Island
and he was greeted much more warmly that the shrink!
He examined John’s dick then asked:
“So… what color do you want me to use to tattoo your glans? Yellow? Black?
Your choice pal…”, he asked a horrified John…
Everybody present had a good laugh (except John, of course…).
“Well…”, he finally answered “I’d like it to look natural. You know… like the
others here…”
“The others, the others…”, the tattoo guy said… “I’d have to see them hard to
see what you mean by that. The glans changes color whether a guy is limp or
hard, so…”
“All those of you who still have a dick, get hard. Now”, Alex ordered,
laughing.
Jason, Will, Jake, Peter and the twins began playing with their dicks to get
them hard as fast as possible. They were all laughing, including the tattoo
guy.
Once they were all very hard, the tattoo guy examined each dick, comparing
their color with his assortment of colors, then he looked at John and asked
him:
“So… what color do you prefer?”
John inspected each dick… and during his inspection, Brad said to him: “You
can blow me if you want to”…
John laughed and answered: “I hope you won’t mind, but I’m a little busy now…”
Again, they all laughed…
In the end, John decided that what he wanted was a mix between Jason and
Jake’s colors.
“Sure”, the tattoo guy said. Again, he examined Jason and Jake’s dicks very
carefully, chose the right color, and then he asked John:
“As you know, I have a very good reputation. I’m the best. So I’m going to do
a real good job on you. No doubt. But… with a little “encouragement”, I think
I could do a “chef d’śuvre” with your glans…”
“Oh?”, John asked… “And what do you mean by “a little encouragement”?
The tattoo guy smiled and answered:
“A night with the twins here…”, he answered, grinning…
“Oh yeah…”, Brad and Shaun answered in unison. “But you have to promise you
will fuck us…”, Brad added…
“Are you sure that’s what you want guys?”, Jason asked the twins. “Because no
one will ever force you to do that if you don’t want to. You’re not
prostitutes, you know. Do you understand what I mean by that?”
“Personally, I don’t think it’s a good idea”, Alex added. “I know you two have
big hearts, and you want John to have the best… but … you don’t have to do
that, you know”, Alex said. Then, looking at the tattoo guy, he said:
“Look, I’ll double your fees so you do a “chef d’śuvre” on John. How about
that?”
The tattoo guy grinned and said: “Yeah, that would do. But of course… I’d
prefer a night with the twins…”
“Does it bother you if Brad and I spend a night with him?”, Shaun asked Alex.
“Cause if it bothers you, we won’t. But… he’s good-looking you know, and his
body is very intriguing. Have you looked at all his tattoos? And at all his
piercings? Brad and I would really like to spend a night with him. Really, we
would…”
Brad was nodding…
Alex and Jason laughed and they both said: “So be it, then…”
“Good”, the tattoo guy exclaimed. Then he looked at John and said: “So… when
do we start?”
“As soon as you are ready”, John answered, laughing…
“How about right now?”, the tattoo guy asked…
“Just a minute you two”, Peter said. “I have to give John a local anesthesia
first, so he doesn’t hurt. His new glans is very sensitive you know… and I
want to make sure he doesn’t feel any pain…”
“Sure”, the tattoo guy said…
They all went to the clinic, and both John and the piercer were ordered by
Peter to get a shower and scrub with antiseptic soap. Then Peter ordered the
“audience” to do surgical masks. Because of course, this was a “family thing”,
and everyone had to be present! Peter then injected John with partial
anesthesia and once he was certain that Peter wouldn’t feel any pain, the
tattoo guy began working on his glans.
It took him three hours to complete his job. But what a job. Once he was done,
everyone closely examined the “result”, with John standing up, proudly
exhibiting his short but very thick dick. He was beaming.
“Oh wow”, Jake commented. “I just can’t wait to have your big dick up my ass.
It’s lovely my love”, he said, salivating…
“Hey don’t forget the rule”, Squirt said… “You have to share it with all the
others…”
“Yeah, yeah”, John said, laughing. “You can park your tight hole on my dick
anytime you want…”
“(…) you know John”, Jake softly said… “It would look and feel much better
with a PA ring…”
“You really think so”, John asked, looking at his lover straight in the eyes…
“Ohhhh yes”, Jake answered. “It would. Trust me”
“What do you think Alex?”, John then asked…
“Well… it’s up to you pal. All I know is that Jason has a PA ring… and I LOVE
it”.
John looked at Jason… who was frantically nodding with a big smile on his
face…
“Sold”, John said. “What I wouldn’t do to please you Jake…”
Peter showed John his nice assortment of PA rings… and Jake and John chose the
one they preferred…
“And since you’re already under local anesthesia, I could pierce you right now
if you want…”, Peter added…
“Sure. Go right ahead”, John answered.
In no time, John was pierced. And of course in no time, everyone was examining
his “new” dick…
“You can look at the merchandise all you want”, Peter said… “But don’t touch
it. I don’t want John to get an infection…”
That night, the piercer spent the night with the twins… and Jason and Alex had
to admit that they were a little jealous of him.
The morning after, the twins were all smiles… and as the piercer was about to
leave the Island, Jason turned to Alex and said in his ear:
“I’m glad he’s leaving. I don’t like him at all…”
Alex nodded.
“I heard that”, Brad said… “You’re jealous, aren’t you”, he said to Jason.
Jason turned red in the face…
“Well… don’t be”, Brad said. “Because I love you Jason. The fact that Shaun
and I spend the night with the piercer doesn’t mean anything. This guy was
good, but you and Alex are the best! And we love you. That’s the big
difference. We had sex with him… but with you two, we make love”, Brad
concluded…
Jason took him in his strong arms and squeezed him tight against his strong
chest. Then, looking at Brad straight in the eyes, Jason said:
“You’re pretty wise for a kid your age, you know?”
“Yeah. I know”, Brad answered, laughing. “And you… you’re pretty good-looking,
you know?”
Jason and Alex burst out laughing…
Thank god, time flew very fast… like always… and before Alex and Jason knew
it, the shrink requested to have a meeting with the two of them…
“So Doctor”, Alex politely asked the shrink… “I take it that you’re ready to
give us your final report?”
“Oh yes…”, the shrink answered, full of himself.
“Good”, Alex answered. “So?”
Seeing that the shrink wanted to go into every detail to show them what a good
job he had done, Alex cut him out and said:
“Listen Doctor. I know you are an expert. I trust you. Now… spare us the
details. I have a Plantation to run, and really… I’m not interested with the
details. I’ll read your report later, but for now, please, give us your
conclusions.”
“Of course, Senator”, the Doctor said. “Of course”.
“So?”, an impatient Alex asked…
“…Well… Henry is doing fine. He has overcome his problems and he now
understands where he stands. He’s much more confident… and he overcame his low
self esteem. I have no doubt in my mind that he will not repeat his previous
errors, if that’s what you want to know. Like I said… he’s a fine young man,
and he no longer represents a danger to himself or to the others.”
“Are you sure about that?”, Jason asked…
“Absolutely”, the shrink answered. “And the fact that he’s in love with Peter
helped a lot. Now Senator… I understand that you own Henry and so you have the
right to do whatever you want with him. But, with all due respect, I suggest
you do not take away Henry from Peter. Henry would be devastated. He thinks
that’s what you will do. And should you do that, I’m telling you Senator, you
would have a suicide on your hands.”
Alex grinned… then said:
“Don’t worry about that Doctor. I don’t intend to separate the two of them.
Not at all. You see on a few occasions, I had the chance to talk with Henry…
and I really think he’s a good man. I think he really regrets what he did to
me, and so I forgave him for what he did. I don’t bear a grudge against him. I
understand. And so now… I want him to be happy in life and I also want Peter
to be happy…”
The shrink nodded… then said:
“There’s something else I’d like to talk to you about…”
“Yes…”, Alex said…
“I understand that according to the judgment, a Penectomy has to be performed
on Henry…”
Alex grinned and, after a moment, he said:
“Yes. But you see… the judgment didn’t specify when this penectomy had to be
done. So… as long as Henry stays on this Island, I don’t intend to have his
dick cut off. I talked to Field Marshal Zuker about that and he agreed with me
that he never specified a time limit in his judgment. Like he said, a
penectomy could be performed on Henry the day he dies. As long as he doesn’t
leave the Island that is.”
“Yes, yes… I understand”, the shrink answered. “But that’s not the point. What
I wanted to say is that Henry wants a penectomy performed on him as soon as
possible…”
“WHAT?”, Alex and Jason exclaimed in unison…
“Yes”, the shrink answered. “You see, he believes that’s the only way he will
gain your trust. If he no longer has a dick, well… he can’t rape anyone, can
he? Also, you have to understand that Henry is a total bottom. He had never
realized that before the night he raped you, but since then he has. I injected
him with scopolamine –it’s drug that…”
“Yes, we know what scopolamine is…”, Alex interrupted him…
“Yes. So… as I was saying”, the Doctor said… “I injected him with scopolamine,
to make sure he was telling me the truth, and I have no doubt he was. He
really resent his dick and in fact, he always did. It’s nothing new. So really
Senator, you must have a penectomy performed on him so Henry can be happy in
life. That’s all I can say…”
Alex and Jason remained silent for a while. Then Alex looked at the shrink and
asked him:
“Have you talked to Peter about that?”
“No”, the shrink answered. “I wanted to talk to you first. You are Henry’s
owner and so I had to give my full report to you first. If you allow me, I can
talk to Peter…”
“… Yes. Please do”, Alex answered.
A day later, Peter came to see Alex.
“He told you, didn’t he?”, Peter asked…
“Yes. He did”, Alex answered. “So… what do you think?”
“I’m glad I won’t be the one to make that decision…”, Peter answered.
“Ohhhh yes, you will”, Alex answered.
At that, he gave Peter a document:
“Read this Peter”, he said…
Peter looked at the document Alex was showing him. He read it and then, with
tears in his eyes, he asked:
“Why are you doing this?”
“Because I know you love Peter. And because I want to thank you for what you
did for me. If I’m alive today, it’s all thank to you…”
Peter looked at the document. It was a transfer of ownership. All Peter had to
do was sign that document, and Henry would become his slave. Peter would
become his owner and would be the one to decide what to do with him.
“I can’t believe… I mean… I’m so happy. But then, I’m scared Alex. I wish you
would be the one to make that decision. Not me.”
“Well… it doesn’t work that way Peter. If you sign that document, Henry will
become your slave. You will be the one to decide. It’s not always easy to make
decisions, you know. And I won’t make that decision for you. It’s for you to
decide. My guess is that you will want to talk to Henry about that. It’s up to
you now. All I want you to know is that the both of you are most welcomed to
stay on the Island with us. We love you Peter, and as we learned to appreciate
Henry, I think we could love him also. Of course, it will take time. The
others are rather “apprehensive” about him, and Henry will have to gain their
trusts. But I think he can do it. So… please Peter, sign that document”, Alex
concluded, giving Peter a pen so he could sign…
Peter looked at Alex straight in the eyes for a few seconds… then he signed
the document.
“Good”, Alex said. “Now, go see Henry and tell him about the good news”, he
concluded.
Peter nodded. He had tears in his eyes. He looked at Alex and said:
“You’re a good man Alex. I love you. You have no idea of how much I love you…”
Alex smiled back at him and answered:
“… Oh yes. I know. And I love you too Peter. And I want you to be happy in
life. Whatever you will decide will be fine with me. Now go on, run to the
clinic and tell Henry. Oh, one last thing. Whether you like it or not, I will
have a villa built for the two of you. Not very far from the mansion. I want
the two of you to be on your own as I want the two of you to have some
privacy. With Squirt and the twins, that might not be possible if you two were
to stay in the mansion..,.”
Peter looked at Alex and said:
“Squirt won’t be very happy about that…”
Alex grinned then said:
“Oh… I wouldn’t worry about that if I were you. Since Will moved with us in
the mansion, Squirt has been, well, “busy”… shall I say. I think our Squirt is
very much in love with Will and unless I’m totally wrong, it’s very mutual. If
you see what I mean. In other words, Squirt’s has a new love in his life”,
Alex added, laughing…
“Good”, Peter answered. “I wouldn’t want to hurt Squirt’s feelings, you know…”
“Oh don’t worry about that. You know Squirt, don’t you? He loves everyone and
everything. He’s not the kind of guy to limit himself to one person and I
suppose you won’t be surprised to learn that he has adopted the twins. I mean…
he takes care of them like if they were his sons. And don’t tell me that
doesn’t make sense since Squirt and the twins are about the same age. To
Squirt, the twins are his “babies”. Period. And he defends them like if he was
their mother. But that’s not all Peter. Nope. I’ve also realized that he has a
lot of influence on Jake and John. Thank god it’s a good influence. So as you
can see… Squirt keeps very busy, and I pretty sure he will be very happy for
you when he will learn that you are in love with Henry and that you are now
his new owner. Um… but if I were you Peter, I’d have a talk with Squirt about
Henry, and I would introduce him to your lover. If Squirt likes him, well… all
the others will like him also.”
“I will do that”, Peter answered. “Now, will you excuse me? I have someone to
see…”
Alex burst out laughing and answered:
“Are you saying to me that you’re going to run to the clinic to see someone
special?”
Peter laughed and answered: “Right on pal. Right on.”
At the clinic, Peter told Henry everything. That he was now his rightful
owner, and that Alex was going to have a villa built for the two of them.
Henry couldn’t believe his hears.
“I’m so happy Peter”, Henry said with tears in his eyes. “I don’t know why
Alex is doing all this for me. Now… I know he’s doing all this for you, not
for me… but I mean…”
“You’re wrong Peter. Sure, Alex is doing this for me… but he’s doing all of
this for you too. I think he really likes you Henry. I know Alex… and he’s the
kind of guy who believes that a good man deserves a second chance. And he’s
giving you that second chance.”
Henry nodded. Then, looking at Peter he added: “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do
for Alex. I owe him so much…”
“Well… so do I”, Peter answered, smiling…
After a few seconds of total silence, Peter looked at Henry and asked:
“What’s this thing about a penectomy?”
Henry turned red in the face and looked down at his feet.
“Look at me Henry”, Peter softly said… “You really want your dick cut off?”
Henry nodded in silence.
“I talked to the psychotherapist and he explained everything to me”, Peter
said. “Nevertheless, I think we should wait a little, to make sure that’s what
you really want. Let’s take a month… to see if you don’t change your mind.
What do you say?”
“I won’t change my mind Peter. Unless you tell me that you don’t want me to
have a penectomy.”
“That’s not what I’m saying Henry. Hey… it’s your dick, not mine. And I’m a
total top, not a bottom. So it’s not like if I would miss your big dick. But
then… you must understand that once it’s gone, it’s gone forever. It’s final.
Do you understand that?”
“Absolutely”, Henry answered. Then he asked: “Would you be the one to perform
my penectomy?”
“Nope”, Peter answered. “I will ask Doctor Inkart to come to the Island to
perform that surgery on you. I can’t be your doctor, and you know that don’t
you? Furthermore, I think Doctor Inkart will be more than happy to be back to
the Island, to enjoy a few “comfort women”… Peter added, laughing. “I will
have to talk to Alex about that…”
The day after, Peter found Alex and Jason on the terrace, discussing their
wedding plans. They had decided the wedding would take place in seven weeks…
and they were now talking about their guest list…
“Sorry to interrupt you guys”, Peter said to the two of them…
“Oh, no problem”, Jason answered, smiling. Have a seat…”
Peter sat down at the round table and explained to his two friends that Henry
really wanted a penectomy but that they had decided to wait one month, to make
sure he wouldn’t change his mind in the meantime…
“That’s a very wise thing to do…”, Alex commented.
“Yes”, Peter answered. “But then… I can’t perform a penectomy on Henry. He’s
my lover and I can’t be my lover’s doctor…”
“Of course not”, Alex answered.
“So I thought… maybe we could ask Doctor Inkart to come to the Island, to
perform the surgery on Henry…”
Both Alex and Jason burst out laughing. Then Jason said:
“Well… we’ll have to ask our friend from Ipsko Island to send us a few
“comfort women” then…”
“I guess so”, Peter answered, turning red in the face.
“No problem”, Alex answered. “My friend who owns Ipsko Island asked me if I
would agree to have his young son to stay on our Island for the summer, to
give him a chance to make new friends. From what I understand, the young man
is very shy and he keeps to himself all the time. My friend thinks it would do
him some good to spend some time with us on our Island. So… in exchange, I
will ask my friend to send us some of his nice “comfort women”…
“Good”, Peter answered. “But of course, Henry could change his mind so I guess
we better wait before we make all the arrangements…”
“No”, Alex answered. “You see… we intend to invite Doctor Inkart for our
wedding, and we also intend to invite our friend from Ipsko Island. So all we
have to do is to tell them to arrive here two weeks in advance. Should Henry
change his mind, it will not change anything. Doctor Inkart will have two
weeks of fun, enjoying the “comfort women”, and we’ll take care of our friend
and his young son.”
“Great”, Peter answered.
So everything was arranged, and Doctor Inkart was more than happy to come to
Thelo Island, knowing that a few “comfort women” would be there, waiting for
him.
Unfortunately, his wife wouldn't be able to make the trip and be present at
Jason and Alex’s wedding, the good Doctor explained, as she was constantly
suffering from migraine headaches. Poor dear. Somehow, Doctor Inkart’s regrets
didn’t seem too sincere to Alex, which made him laugh hard!
As for Viktor, the owner of Ipsko Island, he was more than happy accept Alex’s
invitation…
“No problem”, he answered. “How many “comfort women do you want?”, he asked…
“Um… at least five”, Alex answered, laughing…
“I’ll bring eight with me”, Viktor answered, laughing. “But I’m also bringing
my son with me. Are you ready to take him for the summer?”
“Sure”, Alex answered. “How old is he”
“He turned fourteen three weeks ago. And he’s a real pain in the ass. Oh he’s
no trouble. Not at all. He just doesn’t talk to me. I’ve tried everything.
Like I explained to you the other day, he’s very shy… and he keeps to himself.
He’s a star gazer”
“A what?”, Alex asked in surprise…
“A star gazer”, Viktor answered, laughing. “You see… he’s crazy about
astronomy. And three years ago, I made a big mistake. I had a small
astronomical observatory built for him on our Island and since then, he’s been
spending all his time over there, observing the constellations, the stars and
the planets. That’s all he talks about. He has no other interest but that. He
doesn’t mix with the other kids on our Island… and he has no friend. I really
worry about him so that’s why I’d like you to take him for the summer, so he
can mix with other kids and learn to be more sociable”.
“What’s his name?”, Alex asked…
“Gregory. We call him Greg”…
“Is he straight, gay… bi?”, Alex asked.
Viktor burst out laughing… then said:
“How the hell would I know? We certainly never talked about that. As far as
I’m concerned, he’s sexless.”
Alex laughed and said:
“Well… we’ll see about that. But don’t worry about him Viktor. Bring him along
with you and we’ll take him for the summer. No problem…”
“Good”.
Two days later, the wedding invitations were sent. In all, 600 people were
invited, not counting the 350 slaves on the Plantation that were also invited…
“950 people… I can’t believe it”, Jason stated, totally discouraged.
“Yeah well, as a Senator, there are some people I just can’t ignore. As for
the slaves, we will of course have to keep them apart from our guests. Some of
our so called “distinguished” guests wouldn’t appreciate to have a slave
sitting right next to them. They have sex with their slaves, but they don’t
want to be seen with them. Hypocrites. That’s what they are. But in my
position, I can’t ignore them.”
“Yeah”, Jason answered…
“Have you noticed that some of our slaves have began building Peter and
Henry’s new villa?”, Alex asked Jason, wanting to change the subject…
“Oh yes. And I gave the blueprints a look and really, it’s going to be
beautiful…”
“Yes”, Alex answered, smiling. “I want Peter and Henry to have a nice place of
their own. Their little “love nest” I might say.”
“Yes. It’s going to be lovely. I think the two of them are very much in love
with one another”…
“Yes”, Alex answered. “And I’m happy for them. I wish them the best…”
“So do I”, Jason sincerely said… “So do I”.
A few days later, Peter came to see Alex and Jason.
“I have a favor to ask”… he said.
“The answer is yes”, Alex answered, laughing…
“Before saying yes, you should wait to see what this favor is all about…”,
Peter answered, grinning…
“I don’t need to. The answer is yes…”, Alex replied, laughing…
“Anyway. Here’s the favor. You see… Jason and you will get married pretty soon
and the President of the Senate will be here to marry you, right?”
“Yes…”, Alex answered…
“Well… after your wedding, do you think the President of the Senate could take
a few minutes to marry me?”
“To Henry?”, Alex asked…
“No… to a cow”, Peter answered, laughing hard…
“Sorry Peter”, Alex replied, laughing. “You want to marry Henry? Are you sure
about that? I mean..."”
“Look Alex”, Peter said… “I really love him. And I know he loves me as much as
I do love him. We’re made for one another. I have no doubt that I want to
spend the rest of my life with him. I love him, Alex. I love him”, he added.
Then, after a pause he added: “Also, Squirt said it was OK for me to marry
Henry…”.
“Did the two of them meet?”, Alex and Jason both asked in surprise…
Peter grinned and said:
“Oh yes, they did. I had a private talk with Squirt and explained everything
to him. He’s very mature for his age, you know? Anyway. He listened to me then
asked me a few questions and in the end he said that if it was OK with you
Alex, it was OK with him also. Then he agreed to come to the clinic so I could
introduce him to Henry. Everything went just fine and I really think they
liked one another. I also think Squirt was impressed by how good-looking Henry
is.”, Peter added, laughing…
“Figures”, Jason said, grinning…
“Yeah”, Peter answered, laughing. “So anyway… Squirt said he had no problem
with me marrying Henry… as long as my dick would remain available to the
others, that is”
At that… the three of them burst out laughing…
“Henry has no problem at all with that and he understands the situation on the
Island. He know I love him and he’s not jealous at all”, Peter finally said.
“Good”, Alex said. “Now come here, and give me a big kiss…”
Peter ran into Alex arms and Alex hugged him very tight. Then he hugged Jason.
“I love you Peter. You know that, don’t you? And I want you to be happy”, Alex
finally said. “You want to marry Henry? Fine with me. I’ll talk to the
President of the Senate and I have no doubt that he will agree to marry the
two of you…”
By now, Peter was crying like a baby…
“There’s something else I want to talk to you about…”, Peter added, sobbing…
“What?”, Alex softly asked…
“Well… I don’t think Henry will change his mind concerning his penectomy. I
had a few video-calls with some of my colleagues… and I learned about his new
procedure…”
“What new procedure?”, Alex asked…
“Well… some of my colleagues told me that it is now possible to remove the
glans from a dick, then perform a partial penectomy on the patient. They leave
a stump about one inch long, then they graft the glans to the stump. Of
course, before removing the glans from the patient’s dick, they make sure they
also remove all the nerves and they reattach them to the stump so the patient
can experience sexual pleasure when playing with his stump. In other words,
after the procedure is performed, the patient finds himself with a very small
dick… one inch long… but with a glans. And so I thought that… well… maybe
Doctor Inkart could perform that new procedure on Henry. I talked to him about
that and he said he knew about the new procedure and was ready to try it. But
then, my question is: Would Field Marshall Zuker agree with such a procedure?
Would he agree to sign a certificate of compliance, so I could take Henry out
of the Island for a vacation or something like that? After all, Henry would
still have a one inch dick…”
Alex looked at Peter straight in the eyes and, after a few seconds of silence,
he answered:
“Don’t worry Peter. Field Marshal Zuker owes me a lot. If I ask him to sign a
certificate of compliance, he will. Trust me on that…”
Peter looked at Alex… then he said:
“Look Alex… I don’t know what to say. I love you so much. I owe you so much.
I’d do anything for you and so would Henry. We owe you everything…”
“You don’t owe me anything Peter. And Henry doesn’t owe me anything. I owe you
my life. So please, don’t ever say that again to me, OK? We’re friends, Peter.
Friends for life”.
“Yes. Friends for life”, Peter answered, crying…
The same day Doctor Inkart arrived on Thelo Island, so did Viktor and his son
Greg, accompanied by eight beautiful “comfort women”.
Inkart was salivating…
Of course, the nice and very isolated villa located at the other end of the
Island was made available so he could use it in all privacy. Upon arrival and
after he had given the “comfort women” a good look, he declared that he needed
a three day rest before he could perform the surgery on Henry. The trip to
Thelo Island had been long, he explained (!) and he really needed some rest.
At his age…”
“You don’t have to explain anything to me, Doctor Inkart. I understand”, Alex
said. “But maybe we should wait before we send the “comfort women” to your
villa, to give you a chance to get some good rest…”
“Ohhhhh no. No, no. Did I removed your brain from you the day I operated on
you?”, Inkart asked Alex, laughing…
“Nope. I still have it. And it’s still functioning”, Alex answered, laughing
hard.
“Well then, use it… and send the “comfort women” to the villa right away”.
“Of course”, Alex said, still laughing…
For the nest three days, Doctor Inkart totally disappeared from the map…
As for Viktor and his son Greg, Jason and Alex took charge of Viktor while
Squirt took charge of Greg.
Viktor was a “bon vivant”… a nice, and funny guy. So it wasn’t a big deal to
have him as a guest. And he was very relived to see that Squirt was taking
change of his son…
“I hope you will be able to do something with him”, was his only comment.
“Don’t worry about that Viktor”, Jason answered. “Squirt took charge of him
and believe me, he’s an expert. Now I can’t guarantee the result… but I can
tell you that by the time your son goes back to Ipsko, he will no longer be a
virgin…”
“Oh yeah?”, a very skeptic Viktor asked…
“Oh yeah!”, Alex answered, laughing. “Just trust us on that…”
Indeed, Squirt had taken charge of Greg. He introduced him to the twins, to
Jake and John and to Will. And of course, he also introduced him to Peter and
Henry.
They all had the same opinion of Greg: He was a nerd. And he was ugly.
Squirt didn’t share that opinion.
And when Greg left the group to go to the bathroom, Squirt looked at the
others and said:
“Give me two weeks guys, and you won’t recognize him. Two weeks. That’s all I
need”
They all laughed, but agreed to give Squirt the two weeks he was requesting.
Squirt took it as a challenge.
He took Greg to his bedroom, then locked the door behind them. He sat on his
large bed and looked at Greg for a few moments then he said:
“So, you’re fourteen, right?”
“Uh-huh”, Greg answered. He was very shy and wasn’t looking at Squirt in the
eyes. Of course, Squirt was stark naked and Greg was still wearing his
clothes… and so it was obvious that Greg’s interest was concentrated on the
empty space Squirt had between his legs…
“Have you ever seen a nullo before?”, Squirt asked him…
“No. Never”, came the answer. “What are you? A boy? A girl?”
Squirt laughed and said:
I’m neither a boy nor a girl. I’m a nullo. It’s a third gender, I might say.
And I like boys”.
“You’re gay?”, Greg asked…
“How could I be gay? I’m not a boy, remember”.
“Oh yeah…”, Greg answered, ill at ease.
“You want to touch me?”, Squirt asked in a soft voice…
He didn’t wait for Greg’s answer. He jump to his feet, walked over to Greg,
took his hand into his and placed it on his empty spot…
Greg turned red on the face… but pretty soon, Squirt was able to see that he
was showing a nice tent in his pants…
“Have you ever kissed someone?”, Squirt asked…
Greg shook his head “no”.
“Do you wank?”
This time, Greg turned even redder in the face, if that was possible.
“What?”, Squirt said… “Don’t tell me you don’t wank, because I won’t believe
you. All the boys do and I’m pretty sure you’re no different than the others…”
“Sometimes”, Greg reluctantly answered…
“Sometimes what?”, Squirt said… “Come on Greg. Say it…”
“Sometimes I wank”.
“Good. How many times a day?”
“(…) Um… do you really have to ask that question? It’s kind of personal, you
know…”
“Look Greg… if we are to be friends, we have to be opened and totally honest
with one another. I want to be your friend… and I’ll answer all your
questions, whatever they are. I have nothing to hide. But you have to be
honest with me…”
“OK, OK. “, Greg answered. “Two, sometimes three times a day…”
“Good”, Squirt said. “And sometimes, could it be four or five times a day?”
Greg grinned and nodded…
“Good. We’re getting somewhere here”, Squirt answered, grinning. “Now get
naked”
“WHAT?”, Greg exclaimed…
“Oh yes. That’s the rule on this Island. As you have seen, everyone on this
Island is naked. We go naked all the time…”
“But… but…”, an alarmed Greg said, protesting…
“No “buts”. Get naked. Like right now”, Squirt ordered…
Greg had a moment of hesitation. He had sweat all over his face…
“Come on Greg. I know you’re hard. Don’t worry about that. Those on the Island
that still have dicks are hard all the time. That’s totally normal. We don’t
care. You don’t have to worry about that…”
“But my dad will see me naked? And I will see him naked?”
“Oh yes. So what? No problem. You will get use to it. Trust me…”
Greg rolled his eyes, but nonetheless, he began undressing…
Squirt was watching him. He was evaluating him…
Greg was about five feet six inches tall. He was skinny and had pimples on his
face. He had long, curly brown hair and brown eyes. He was also wearing
glasses. Indeed, he wasn’t very appealing but Squirt thought he could do
something with him. To him, the kid was beautiful. He had just adopted him…
Greg was now standing right in front of Squirt, with only his briefs left to
hide his hardon!
“What are you waiting for?”, Squirt asked him in a nice, friendly voice. “Take
those off”…
Greg looked at Squirt… and then he took his briefs off.
“Good”, Squirt answered, looking at a very nice and very hard dick. Greg also
had low hanging balls…
“You see?”, Squirt said… “It’s not so hard. I mean… taking your briefs off. As
for your beautiful dick, I’d say it’s very hard. And It’s also leaking
precum…”
“You think I have a nice dick?” Greg shyly asked…
“Oh yeah. It’s beautiful. How long is it? Seven, seven and a half inches?”
“Seven inches”, Greg answered, looking at his feet…
“Perfect”, Squirt answered. “And you’re not finished growing so I guess that
by the time you’re fully grown, your dick will be at least eight to eight and
a half inches…”
“You think so?”, a very excited Greg asked…
“Sure”, Squirt answered, nodding…
“I like my dick… but I don’t like my balls. I have low hangers and I don’t
like that. I can’t wear shorts cause if I do my balls swing freely between my
legs and so they are more of a nuisance than anything…”
“We’ll have to talk to Peter about that. Maybe he can do something for you…”,
Squirt suggested…
“Yeah well I don’t want to lose my balls you know….”
“Who’s talking about cutting your balls off? That’s not what I meant. Maybe
there’s another solution that we know nothing about. So that’s why I suggested
we should talk to Peter about your problem, to see what he has to say…”,
Squirt answered.
“Oh… OK then…”
“Now, let’s hit the shower. First, we’ll get rid of your pubes… then I’ll give
you a hair cut. Your hair style… if we can call that a hair style… doesn’t fit
you at all. Trust me. You’ll love the result…”
“You’re going to shave my pubes?”
“Oh, but of course. Haven’t you noticed that everybody on the Island is
hairless? You’re nice dick and your balls will look much better without hair…”
“You think?”
“Sure. Again, trust me. Now… are you straight, gay, bi?”
Greg shrugged then said:
“I don’t know. I really don’t…”
“OK. No problem. We’ll find out for you…”
“What do you mean by that?”
Squirt burst out laughing and said:
“Oh… before long, you’ll know for sure if your straight, gay or bi. You’ll
see…
Again, Greg shrugged…
“Why do you wear glasses?”, Squirt asked him…
“I’m short-sighted…”
“Good…”, Squirt answered…
“That’s good?”
“Oh yeah. Cause if you were long-sighted, there’s nothing we could do for you.
But since you’re short-sighted, we’ll take care of that tomorrow. You also
have pimples…”
“(…) Yeah. I guess I wank too much…”
“What?”, Squirt exclaimed…
“Yeah. Some of our slaves told me that when a guy wanks too much he gets
pimples. That’s why I spend all my time at the astronomical observatory my
father had built for me. I don’t want the slaves to see me. They call me the
wanker!”
“But… but… that doesn’t make sense at all. I mean… the fact that you wank has
nothing to do with your pimples. Nothing at all.”
“Are you sure?”
“YES I’m sure! Now, tomorrow we’ll have to take care of your pimples.”, Squirt
answered, totally discouraged.
Squirt immediately video-called the clinic and in no time, he had Peter on the
big video screen.
“We need your help, Peter”, Squirt stated…
“What do you mean by “we”? And what kind of help do you need?”
“Medical help. And by “we” I mean Greg…”
“Oh…”, Peter said…
“Yes. Would you have time tomorrow to do a laser treatment?”
“A laser treatment?”
“I mean…Greg suffers from myopia. And I want that problem to be corrected…”
“Oh… you mean… you want a LASIK procedure performed on his eyes”
“Yeah. Whatever”, Squirt answered, grinning… “I also want you to inject Greg
with this thing you injected Jake with so he no longer has pimples…”
“Infrathin. It’s called Infrathin, Squirt.”
“Whatever. Can you do that tomorrow? We’re on a tight schedule, you know. How
long does it take for Infrathin to take effect?”
“Two to three days”, Peter answered, laughing. “I heard about your challenge…
and I’ll help you Squirt. Bring Greg to the clinic first thing tomorrow
morning… and I’ll take care of him. Don’t worry. And I won’t say a word to the
others…”
“Oh, and there is something else. You see, Greg has low hangers and he hates
that. And I tell you Peter, his balls really do hang low. Is there something
you can do to help him?”
“Well… I will have to examine him, of course. I suppose he wants to keep his
balls?”
“Yes…”
“Uh-huh. Well… I’ll see what I can do.”
“You’re a pall Peter. Thanks. I owe you…”
“Nope. You don’t owe me anything Squirt. I’m the one who owes you…”
Squirt knew very well what Peter meant by that so he laughed and answered:
“Fine. So I don’t owe you anything and you don’t owe me anything. But still,
you will help me, right?”
“Right on”, Peter answered, laughing…
“Good.”
Poor Greg. He had no idea of what was going on. And before he knew it, Squirt
was forcing him into the shower. He did not even have time to protest…
In no time, Squirt was on his knees in front of him, a pair of scissors in
hand. Greg looked down at his pubes… to realized they had been reduced to
stubble. Then, he looked down in silence as Squirt took a razor to give him
what he called a “close shave”. In no time, Greg was totally hairless. Then
Squirt attacked his arm pits… and before he knew it, they were as smooth as
the day he was born…
“Good”, Squirt said once he was finished shaving. “Now you look much better”.
“You think so?” a hesitant Greg asked…
“Oh yeah”, Squirt answered in a sexy voice…
At that, Squirt raised to his feet, looked at Greg in the eyes and said:
“You look much better. You look sexy”
And at that, Squirt began kissing Greg. Greg was taller than Squirt, so Squirt
had to stretch his neck out so his lips could reach Greg’s. But that didn’t
bother him and he gave his new friend his first kiss. Greg didn’t know how to
react nor what to do. So he let Squirt do everything. He opened his mouth…and
let Squirt’s tongue do the work. But it didn’t take him long to understand…
and a few seconds later, he was returning Squirt’s favor.
After a while, Squirt began working downward, reaching Greg’s neck, his hands
caressing his chest. Greg had never been kissed before, and had never been so
hard in his life. He couldn’t believe the feeling…
When Squirt’s tongue found Greg’s right nipple, he began playing gently with
it. Greg moaned in pleasure, and Squirt felt Greg’s hands on his shoulders
pushing him down a little. One hand then guided Squirt to Greg’s left nipple.
Squirt kissed it gently and flicked his tongue over the knob. Gregs hand then
pressed Squirt’s face into his chest and Squirt instinctively took his cue to
go back sucking his other nipple more aggressively. Which he did. There was no
doubt as to whether Greg liked it. He was moaning… grinding his dick against
Squirt’s stomach.
Having “some” experience (LOL), it wasn’t difficult for Squirt to pick up on
what pleased Greg and what didn’t.
Sliding farther and farther down on Greg’s frame, Squirt went down on his
knees and took a long look at Greg’s beautiful dick…
“You really have a beautiful dick Greg”, Squirt said in a very sexy voice.
“You’re going to have to share it with the others. That’s the rule here, on
Thelo Island…”
“Did you have a good look at me?”, Greg answered. “I’m ugly. No one will want
to have sex with me. Except you Squirt. And I don’t know why you’re doing this
to me. You don’t have to, you know. I’ll be your friend even if you don’t do
anything to me…”
Squirt looked up at Greg amd smiled. Then he said:
“I’m doing this to you Greg because I like you, and because you’re a beautiful
guy. Inside and out. You don’t even know who you are Greg… but I do. And if
you give me a chance, I’ll show to you who you really are…”
At that, Squirt slowly lowered his head to look at Greg’s dick. It was
beautiful. Then, Squirt looked at Greg’s flat, smooth stomach and at his chest
visibly rising and falling with each heavy breath he was taking. Squirt looked
up at Greg’s face. Yes… Greg was handsome. Or at least, he would be. Greg was
looking down at Squirt and, without a word, he smiled.
Squirt’s gaze returned to Greg’s dick and his attention turned to the pearl of
precum just at the tip. Instinctively, Greg put his hands on the back of
Squirt head. And at that, Squirt went to work on Greg’s first blowjob. As
Squirt kissed the glistening head, he tasted Greg’s juice. It was salty and
sweet. It was delicious. He wanted more…
Squirt’s determination to please Greg in every way made him a little eager…
over-eager in fact. He wrapped his lips around the head and began to suck as
he went down further. Squirt so wanted to make Greg feel good that in no time
he opened his throat up and he felt the head of Greg’s dick just pass through.
It felt soooo good. Going down Squirt began to memorize the texture of Greg’s
dick with his tongue. Each coutour, every vein and the downward curve that
ultimately lent itself to fitting the shape of his mouth and throat. With
every return Squirt went a little farther, pacing his breaths with each
ascent.
Covering Squirt’s ears with a hand on either side of his head, Greg gripped
Squirt’s head strongly and began to guide him. Within a few plunges, he had
Squirt’s nose buried where his pubes used to be. It felt sooooo good. With
each new stab, he would hold Squirt down a little longer. By now, Greg was
totally intoxicated with his power over Squirt. Nothing existed outside this
world that was his crotch. Squirt had become his lover and he wanted nothing
more. While his pace quickened, his grip tightened and the force of his
thrusts meeting Squirt increased to a full assault face fuck. Greg couldn’t
have stopped now if he had wanted to. He was using Squirt now to achieve an
end. Not that Squirt would’ve stopped. He was using Greg too.
Squirt began playing with Greg scrotum and it felt amazing to him. By now, he
was moaning non stop and without knowing it he was now humping Squirt’s mouth.
Greg now had two fistfuls of Squirt blond hair in his grasp. Several times he
held Squirt down so long that Squirt thought he’d pass out. But Squirt knew
better. He knew that by unflexing and flexing his throat again, it would
tighten its grip on Greg… exciting him. He began manipulating his throat
muscles, to Greg’s pleasure.
The moment Greg’s thighs and calves began to flex and harden, Squirt knew he
was ready. He lifted his face just enough so that only three inches or so of
Greg’s meat was locked in his mouth. While he flicked the underside of Greg’s
dick with his tongue, Squirt felt Greg’s whole body harden. With a shudder,
Greg started feeding him his load. The first shot splashed hard against the
back wall of Squirt’s mouth and by the second shot, his mouth was full. Greg
was moaning and panting so hard Squirt was afraid he was having a heart
attack. But of course, he wasn’t.
Squirt began gulping down Greg’s warm jizz… and in no time, he had his own
orgasm. Squirt kept swallowing, not wanting to lose a single drop. Finally,
drawing to a close, Squirt felt Greg’s muscles in his legs begin to relax a
bit. After a few moments, with Greg’s dick barely less than erect, Squirt
lifted his head off and looked up at Greg with Greg looking down at him with
his beautiful eyes…
Greg’s hands reached down under Squirt’s arms and dragged him up his body till
they were again almost face to face. Greg had never seen anything more
beautiful in his short life than this nullo boy right now. With his handsome
face looking up at him and the taste of him still swirling in his mouth. He
had never felt more complete in his life. He looked at Squirt in the eyes…
then wrapped his arms around him in a bear hug and kissed him deeply but oh so
gently. When their lips finally parted, they wordlessly stared into each
others eyes for the longest time, punctuating it every few seconds with
another kiss.
“Thank you Squirt”, Greg finally said in a whisper. “You made an ugly guy very
happy”
“Don’t you ever say that again Greg. You’re beautiful. Stop depreciating
yourself like that. If you look bad, it’s not because you’re ugly… it’s
because you don’t know how to make yourself look good. And I’ll take care of
that. Right now”, Squirt answered.
At that, he took Greg’s hand and forced him to follow him to the next room
where he ordered him to sit on a chair. Then Squirt took a comb and a pair of
scissors and he started working on Greg’s hair.
“I didn’t know you were a coiffeur?”, Greg asked…
“Oh yeah. I just started today”, Squirt answered, laughing…
But Squirt was talented, and he knew what he was doing. In no time, Greg had a
new hair cut and he looked great. Squirt gave him a mirror and Greg looked at
himself into it.
“Wow. You did a great job…”
“You have beautiful curly hair Greg. But your hair were way too long. You have
to keep your hair much shorter…”
“You’re right…”
As someone was knocking at the door Squirt turned and asked:
“Who is there?”
“It’s me. Will…”
“You can enter but you have to swear that you won’t say anything to the others
about what’s going on in here…”
“I swear”, Will answered, walking into the room…
He then looked at Greg who was still sitting on the chair, examined him, then
he said:
“Oh WOW. You look much, much better now dude.”
Greg felt a bit ill at ease, not because of what Will had just said… but
because he was still very hard…
“Nice dick you have there”, Will commented, grinning…
Greg turned red in the face.
“Get up to your feet so I can have a good look at you…”, Will asked…
Greg reluctantly obeyed…
Will walked over to Greg and began examining him while playing with his own
dick with his right hand.
“What do you think?”, a very curious Squirt asked Will…
“Yup. He looks much better. But we will have to beef him up a little. He’s too
skinny. Also he will have to spend time sunbathing. He would look much better
with a nice tan…”
“Will you help us with that?”, Squirt asked…
“Sure. No problem.”
“And you won’t say anything to the others?”
“Nope. I swear…”
Squirt then told Will everything concerning the little “visit” they were going
to pay to Peter the day after…
“Brilliant. That’s brilliant,” Will answered, beaming. Then out of nowhere he
asked Greg: “Are you still a virgin?”
“Here we go again…”, Greg complained, rolling his eyes…
“Yes… and no”, Squirt answered. “Yes, because he has never fucked and has
never been fucked. But no, because a few minutes ago I gave him a good blow
job…”
“Oh…”, Will answered, laughing. Looking at Greg he asked him: “And did you
like it?”
“Shit yeah…”, Greg answered, all excited…
“Good. Because now it’s time for your next lesson…”, Will answered.
“My next lesson? What do you mean?”
“We have to establish a program for you. A physical training program, to beef
you up a little and also a sex training program, to make you discover the
pleasures of sex”
“Yes, Yes, Yes…”, Squirt shouted out, clapping his hands…
“Do you agree?”, Will asked Greg…
For at least the tenth times in the day, Greg turned red in the face. Then he
hesitantly said:
“Will it hurt?”
“Are you kidding? You’ll love it all…”, Will answered, laughing…
“Then it’s OK… I guess”, Greg finally said…
“Fine. You already had your first lesson since Squirt blew you earlier. So
now, we’re going to teach you how to clean yourself”, Will explained. “Come
with us in the bathroom…”
“I already know how to clean myself…”, Greg answered, rolling his eyes.
“Oh yes? You know what an enema is?”, a very skeptic Will asked…
“A what?”, Greg innocently answered…
“Come with us in the bathroom. We’ll teach you…”
Before long, the three of them were in the large bath with Greg on all fours
with a long rectal tube inserted deep inside his rectum. At first, he didn’t
really like the experience. Squirt then decided to lay down on his back under
Greg in a 69 position, and before long, he had Greg’s nice dick into his
mouth. And of course, Greg began moaning big time…
“You can kiss and lick my empty spot, you know…”, Squirt told him…
“Yes. Do that”, Will said… “Because you see Greg, making love is not only
about experiencing pleasure, it’s also very much about giving pleasure to your
partner…”
Greg nodded and began licking and kissing Squirt’s smooth, empty spot. His
enema went on like that for a while, only interrupted by a few pauses so Greg
could walk over to the toilet to relieve himself. Then, once Greg was all
clean inside, Squirt took his place, then Will…
“WOW. I loved it”, a triumphant Greg announced.
“I knew you would love it…” Will answered, grinning. “Now it’s time for your
third lesson”
“Oh?”, Greg asked…
“Yup. And this lesson is called the “Rimming lesson”…
“Oh good”, Squirt exclaimed…
“Let’s go back to the bedroom and lay down on the bed, shall we?”, Will asked…
In no time the three of them were on the bed on all fours. Squirt was rimming
Greg, who was moaning hard, and Will was rimming Squirt. Then, Will moved and
planted himself right in front of Greg.
“Do to me what Squirt is doing to you”, he ordered Greg…
And in no time, Greg had his tongue planted inside Will’s warm, tight ass. He
was learning fast. Real fast…
After a while… Will turned to look at Greg, who was still on all fours with
Squirt eating his ass and he said:
“Now, usually after a good rimming, we fuck. But we’ll keep that for tomorrow
night. For now, just blow me. That will be your last lesson for tonight.”
“But… I’ve never done that”, Greg said, looking at Will…
“Yeah well there’s always a first to everything. So go on… and don’t worry.
I’ll tell you what to do. Just keep your teeth away from my dick…”
Greg nodded. Then he began blowing Will. Slowly at first. And of course, he
wasn’t very good at it. But he would learn. This went on like that for a few
minutes, with Greg blowing Will, and with Squirt rimming Greg…
“OK. That’s enough for now…”, Will announced. “You weren’t bad. But you have
to learn some tricks…”
At that, Greg went on blowing Greg. Showing him all the techniques…
Greg couldn’t believe how good it felt. Greg was blowing him good while Squirt
was rimming him.
“Shit, Shit, Shit”, he screamed as he began shooting his young boy’s jizz down
Greg’s throat… “That felt sooooo good”, he finally said, panting…
“Yeah. I know”, Greg answered, laughing. “I think you will love the rest of my
little program. But that’s all for tonight. Tomorrow we have to take you to
the clinic and after our little visit to Peter we’ll start your physical
training…”
Greg was exhausted and it didn’t take him long to fall asleep between Squirt
and Will. He had the best night sleep of his young life.
The morning after, they had breakfast in Squirt’s bedroom as Squirt and Will
didn’t want the others to see Greg. After they had a good breakfast, Squirt
went out of the room to make sure the way was clear, and then the three of
them ran down from the mansion to the clinic where Peter was waiting for them…
First, Peter examined Greg, then he performed a LASIK procedure on him. Greg
couldn’t believe the result. For the first time in a very long time he was
able to see without wearing glasses. And he threw his glasses into the garbage
can. They all laughed.
Then, Peter injected him with Infrathin.
“I want you to come back to the clinic tomorrow morning, so I can give you a
second injection. In about three days… your pimples should have totally
disappeared”, Peter assured Greg…
“And what about his low hangers?”, Squirt asked Peter…
“Well… I understand that you want to keep your balls, right”, Peter asked Greg
who nodded and said:
“Yeah. I want to keep my balls, but I don’t like having low hangers. My
scrotal skin is all saggy and ugly looking…”
Peter nodded examining Greg’s low hangers, thinking…
“Well, what I could do it remove your scrotum. That way, your balls would be
up practically inside your shaft at the base of your dick. You would keep your
balls, but your whole package would be tight. Yeah… I could tighten you up, no
big deal.”
“Oh yeah”, Greg exclaimed. I’d like that. What do you think Squirt?”
“I’m sure you’d look neat with your balls so tight and high. Yeah. That would
be cool…”
“And your balls would be very, very sensitive to touch… as I would preserve
all the nerves…”, Peter added.
“OK. I’m all for it”, Greg announced, beaming…
“When can you do it?”, Will asked Peter…
“Well not today, that’s for sure. I’m waiting for Doctor Inkart to get here so
we can perform a penectomy on Henry…”
“Oh WOW. Can we stay and watch?”, and excited Squirt asked…
“You’d like that?”, Peter asked…
The three friends nodded…
“Well, I’ll have to ask Henry if it bothers him. If it doesn’t then OK. You
can stay and watch. But you’ll have to scrub, put surgical gowns on you as
well has surgical hats and surgical masks…”
“No problem”, the three of them answered in unison…
Peter went to see Henry and about five minutes later, he came back into the
room and said:
“It’s alright with Henry. But remember… you’ll have to keep quiet. Don’t
disturb us. Now go scrub and change. Doctor Inkart has arrived and we should
start to operate on Henry in about 20 minutes…”, Peter announced.
Then, looking at Greg, Peter said:
“By the way… I just talked to Doctor Inkart about your procedure, and he said
that he could perform it on you right after Henry’s penectomy. That’s if you
haven’t changed your mind…”
“Oh no. I want to have it done as soon as possible. Thanks Peter. I really do
appreciate”, a beaming Greg answered.
“Which means we will have to postpone the fucking lesson I had on the program
for you tonight…”, Greg commented in a sad voice…
“Sorry to let you down pal”, Greg answered. “I guess I will be out of service
for a few days”…
“Yeah”, Squirt answered in a sorry voice. “But then, this will give us time to
work on your tan.”
Greg was nodding as Henry, laying on a stretcher, was wheeled into the
operating room.
“Move your fannies, guys”, Peter said. “Go scrub and change… we don’t have all
day”
At that, the three friends ran to the shower, all excited about what they were
about to watch…
____________________________________________________________
I really hope you liked this new chapter guys. And if so, please let me know.
Will you be in the operating room with the others to watch Doctor Inkart
perform a penectomy on Henry? Will you be there to see what happens to Greg?
And will you be present at Jason and Alex’s wedding? You’re all invited, you
know…
Take good care dudes…
____________________________________________________________
LIST OF CHARACTERS AND PLACES
Alexander (AKA Alex): A young Senator from a rich family; the owner of Thelo
Island; was 20 years old when he bought Jason and Squirt;
Brad: Is Shaun’s identical twin brother and is Peter’s cousin; was 13 years
old when he moved to Thelo Island;
Greg: A very shy, 14 years old kid from Ipsko Island; Viktor’s son;
Gregory: Plantation manager on Thelo Island;
Gluk: See “Henry”;
Henry: (Gluk) A private in the Army; participated in the rape; ran away from
Jason; admitted to his crime and was punished; now in love with Peter;
Inkart: A famous doctor in the capital; has performed surgeries on Alex, Jason
and the twins; had Peter as his assistant;
Ipsko Island: An island, not too far from Thelo Island; Owned by Viktor; The
Island where Greg was born and lives;
Jake (AKA Dick): A mulatto slave who belongs to John; was 14 years old when he
moved with his owner to Thelo Island;
Jason: Born in Britannia and taken as a slave to Alex’s country; was 17 years
old when he was bought by Alex; older brother to Squirt;
John: Born and raised on Kristina Island; was 15 years old when his whole
family was massacred during a slave revolt;
Kristina Island: Island where John was born and raised; An important slave
revolt took place on that Island;
Lokoff: John’s family name;
Peter: Was Doctor Inkart’s assistant in the capital; the twins Brad and Shaun
are his younger cousins; moved to Thelo Island at Alex’s invitation;
Shaun: Is Brad’s identical twin brother and is Peter’s cousin; was 13 years
old when he moved to Thelo Island;
Squirt (AKA Steven): Born in Britannia and taken as a slave to Alex’s country;
was 12 years old when he was bought by Alex; younger brother to Jason;
Steven: See “Squirt”;
Thelo Island: Owned by Alex; located in the Aegean Sea; has a large olive
plantation on it; it’s main export product is olive oil; more than 200 hundred
slave toil on that plantation;
Twins: Shaun and Brad; identical twins;
Will: A young private who refuses to participate in the rape;
William: The old shaman on Thelo Island; is now Peter’s new assistant.
____________________________________________________________
* * * |
|
Rapist, Inspired by Bible, Cuts Off Penis | PENECTOMY | Rapist, Inspired by Bible, Cuts Off Penis Updated 11:15 AM ET January 5, 2001 SAO PAULO (Reuters) - | A convicted Brazilian rapist sliced off his own penis and flushed
it down the toilet, saying the amputation would bring him closer to
God.
Prison guards said they found Flavio dos Santos Cruz, 23, screaming
and profusely bleeding in his jail cell early Thursday after he cut
off his penis with a shaving razor.
"He's alive. But since the penis was missing, he now will have to
urinate through a tube," said urologist Aerton Barbosa Neves, who
operated on Santos Cruz in the town of Andradina, about 410 miles
from South America's biggest city of Sao Paulo.
Santos Cruz said he was inspired by the Bible.
"It is written in Bible that if a part of your body distances you
from God, and makes you commit a sin, you should cut it off," he
told local news wire Agencia Estado.
Since Santos Cruz did not cut off his testicles, Neves said the
rapist could still ejaculate -- possibly while dreaming -- and even
impregnate someone, albeit only with medical assistance.
Prison officials could not immediately say how many people Santos
Cruz had raped and did not know the length of his jail sentence. |
Burdizzoed Part2 | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES | The continuing story of the burdizzo | Burdizzoed, Part 2.
Over the next few days Tony’s balls swelled to a very large size, and then
slowly started to shrink. Tony did not work as he was too uncomfortable moving
about with such swollen balls. It was nearly a week later when Tony’s wife
returned and by that time his balls were almost back to normal size and the
pain had subsided. Tony’s wife did not notice at first but became suspicious
when Tony did not start hounding her for sex, even after the first day, and
after 3 days she was suspicious. She asked Tony what was going on, thinking he
had found another woman, and he told her the story. Instead of getting
sympathy, his wife reacted angrily with him and told him he was weak and had
just confirmed it by not resisting the castration. She assumed he was too weak
to stand up for himself and let it happen. From that time onwards she treated
Tony with scorn.
Little had Tony suspected that the last 4 of his 6 children were not his. His
wife has demanded that he wore a condom when they had sex, and he never
suspected that the pregnancies were not really accidental as his wife had led
him to believe. Actually she has been having sex with Frank and he was the
father of the last 4 children. Tony never had suspected Frank, even though he
had found Frank at his home several times when he had come home unexpectedly.
Tony continued to lose interest in sex over the next few months, while his
wife continued to belittle him for his impotency. He was shocked when suddenly
his wife announced to him that she was pregnant again. Now he knew he could
not be the father and he picked up the courage to approach his wife about it.
“Yes, I have had sex with another man and he has made me pregnant” she replied
when he asked. “What is a sub-man like you going to do about it?” she asked in
a scolding tone.
Tony did not know what to do and just left and went back to work.
In a few days he came home unexpectedly at lunchtime and found his wife in bed
with Frank. It turned out that Frank had been having sex with her for the last
six years and was the father of the last 4 children as well as the cause of
her latest pregnancy. Still Tony did not know the entire story, but now was
confronted with the man who had got her pregnant this time. Instead of
reacting in embarrassment at having been caught, Tony’s wife belittled him and
made him undress and show Frank his shrinking balls, which were now the size
of cherries. She and Frank laughed at Tony, and held him down while his wife
made him lick her pussy. Tony had really become a cuckold to his wife and now
accepted the scorn and belittlement she displayed to him. Frank also treated
him with scorn, even though it was now obvious that Frank had led the
castration of Tony knowing he had the upper hand and was having sex with his
wife. Tony was not only a eunuch; he was now a cuckold to his wife and Frank.
She had the baby boy and later got pregnant again to Frank.
What Tony’s wife did not know was that Frank was also having sex with another
married mans wife who had come to work on the farm. They were only a young
couple in their mid twenties, and had not had any children. Within 6 months of
their arrival, Mary, Joe’s wife, was pregnant. Again Joe did not suspect
anything and would not find out until many years later that he was sterile and
could not produce children of his own. Mary ended up having 2 of Franks’
children until she and Joe decided 2 children was enough and she had herself
sterilised.
Nobody new very much about what was happening, other than Tony who new his
last 2 children were in fact Franks. If Frank had not become too cock-sure the
situation would have remained as it was, but unfortunately Frank was getting
careless. The farmers’ daughter, Lucy, had come home from finishing her
education and stayed at home while she decided what to do with her life. She
had done many years of study and wanted to take a year off while she decided
what to do. Frank, in his usual manner charmed Lucy and started to have sex
with her.
Frank was very hairy, a thick pelt of hair was on his chest, his arms and legs
were very hairy, he even had hair on his shoulders and on his back. Frank was
proud of his hairiness, as he saw it as a sign of masculinity. However, Lucy,
was of the new generation who did not like body hair and found it revolting.
She convinced Frank that he should allow her to shave him, just leaving the
hair on his arms and legs as that would be too obvious if that were removed.
Frank had been following Tony’s earlier example and had been clipping his
pubic hair short in summer to stop sweat rashes, but no shaving himself. After
much cajoling by Lucy, Frank agreed to let her shave him.
It took Lucy over an hour to shave Frank the first time. She had to use hair
clippers to clip all the body hair short, and then use a razor to shave the
remaining hair. She ended up using an open razor to finish the shaving as
Franks hair was clogging up the safety razor too quickly. Lucy had done some
training in hair cutting as she helped in a barbers store during her holidays
to earn some extra money. When she had completed the shaving, she put skin
conditioner all over Franks’ body to stop soreness due to the shaving. After
this, she would shave Frank every 2-3 days and then it was a lot faster as it
was then only maintaining the shaved body.
Not only did the men see that Frank was now smooth when he took a shower and
even in the open neck of his shirt as it was now bare of hair. Tony’s wife
also noticed and questioned him about it, as she could understand how he could
shave his chest, but how could he shave his back? Frank told her he had gotten
one of the men in the barracks to do it, but she was still suspicious. Mary
was also suspicious as she also wondered why Frank was now shaved as she knew
he was so proud of being hairy. What really opened up Pandora ’s Box was when
Lucy announced that she was pregnant to her father who was the farmer Frank
and the other worked for.
Pete was Lucy’s father, and he had been very careful about making Lucy
understand the risks of having unprotected sex, not only for unwanted
pregnancies, but also various diseases. Pete was devastated when Lucy told
him, and became very angry with Lucy when she refused to tell him who was the
father. Pete kept on at Lucy while she refused, but also started asking around
the other men. He was suspicious of Frank as he knew that Frank had a bad
reputation with women before he started working for Pete on the farm. In fact
Frank had been divorced by his wife and 2 children as he had strayed and
fathered another child by another woman. Pete’s’ enquiries soon started
rumours among the men and of course Mary and Tony’s wife soon heard about it
too. Both were furious and they separately challenged Frank about it. Frank
had to admit to both women what he had done, and both kicked him out of their
houses. Both women did not know each of them had produced Frank’s children as
well. Rumours came back to Pete who challenged Lucy who finally admitted that
Frank had made her pregnant. He did not need Lucy to tell him as Tony’s wife
and Mary had come to him and told him that Frank had been having sex with them
as well. Lucy was furious when she heard that both women had been seduced by
Frank and she agreed to her fathers’ plan.
The next day, Pete organised the vet to come earlier than expected to attend
to some sick animals and castrate some bull calves at the same time. Nobody
thought anything of it, including Frank who had been asked by Lucy to visit
her. Frank did not think anything of it that Pete had gone to the sheds early
that day and that Lucy wanted to shave him again. He went along with it,
thinking that he would be able to have sex with Lucy again. He was quite horny
as sex with Tony’s wife and Mary had ceased several days earlier when they had
each confronted him.
Pete told the vet the story, and he was quite willing to help, and he also
asked several of the men if they would help too. Frank had become a bit too
cock-sure and was quite unpopular with the other men, especially when they
found out he had gotten Lucy pregnant. They all went quickly to Pete’s house
and into Lucy’s room. Frank was taken by surprise, he was laying on the bed
freshly shaven and naked when they burst into the room.
Four men grabbed hold of Frank and held him while Pete tied his arms up and
his legs to the bed posts. Frank struggled, but was overpowered by the other
men.
When he was secured, Pete spoke to him.
“You got my daughter pregnant and you have a history of doing that, don’t
you?” he asked with anger rising in his voice.
Frank babbled something about it not being his fault entirely, which just
angered Pete all the more. He did not want to tell Frank he knew he was
fucking Tony’s and Joe’s wives as he did not want to create problems for the
men.
“Go ahead and take his balls” he said to the vet.
“Do you really want me to cut his balls out?” asked the vet.
“Yes, I want to make sure there is no possibility of this guy being able to
father any more children” replied Pete.
“The burdizzo would do the same thing” said the vet being a little uncertain
about cutting a man.
“No, you know as well the burdizzo is only 95% sure on animals, and I have
heard the failure rate on men is much higher” said Pete, who was getting a
little annoyed with the vet. “I will take full responsibility if anything goes
wrong” he added to help decrease the vets worries.
At this, the vet wiped Frank’s balls with an alcohol impregnated cloth then
with a solution of iodine to reduce any possibility of infection. He put on
gloves, selected a new scalpel, and squatted down next to Frank who was now
struggling to break free. Franks struggles were in vain, he was too well tied
and the old bed was solid and did not move, especially with 2 of the men
sitting on it to watch. Frank kept struggling so the vet had to put a band
around his balls to stop them moving back inside with each struggle. A little
more iodine was applied then the vet made a large incision in the right side
of Frank’s sack. A few moment later he popped Franks right ball out of the
sack and began to tie it off. Frank struggled like crazy, but with little hope
of saving his ball. He felt bad seeing so many men watching him losing his
manhood but he could do little about it other than plea to be let go. Suddenly
Frank let out a loud groan as the vet tied off his right ball as it would have
hurt as the ball was tied off. Another groan followed in less than a minute as
the ball was severed and put into a dish. Frank pleaded to be let go while the
vet cleaned up the slit in the sack and fixed it closed. The pleading
continued, interrupted with groans as another slit was made in the left side
of his sack and the ball popped out. Pete stopped the vet while he spoke to
Frank.
“You should have been careful. I know you have at least 10 children, if not
more. Now you will lose your balls to stop you doing more. There were 10
children were there not, or were there more?” he asked in an angry voice.
Pete did not answer other than plead to be let go.
“Go ahead, and remove the last of his manhood” said Pete to the vet.
There was a loud groan from Frank as he felt the thread tying off his last
ball.
“Go on, cut it off” said Pete as the vet appeared to hesitate.
“Will you like to do it?” asked the vet.
“OK, give me some gloves and the scalpel: said Pete.
Presently Pete took hold of Frank’s tied off ball, gave it a squeeze making
Frank groan again, then with a quick movement of the scalpel, Frank was now a
eunuch, just like Tony had become several years before him. Pete took Franks
severed balls and fed them to the dogs.
Frank was now a eunuch, unable to father any more children.
* * * |
The debate | STRAIGHT | Who are superior, males or females? | The big debate
==============
Here it was, the big debate. The best minds in feminism (all female of course)
verses the best minds in society (2 male and 1 female).
John spoke first. He went for the very traditional line of male/female roles.
Child rearing. Nurturing instincts. It was well put together. A little dry
and heard before but a good opener.
Janet countered all these arguments with all the usual evidence on role
stereo-typing and gave plenty examples of cause and effect.
Mike was next. He was a bit more revolutionary. He went right back to
primitive societies. And rattled off, society after society where
males were 100% in charge.
Henrietta, came to the podiem next. She told of how women have never had a
chance to prove themselves. They have been over-powered by the devious
males through-out history. She says "Clothes are the main tool of man.
What do I mean? If a man's symbol of power over women is his penis.
Why does he hide it away. Simple. A man's balls is a far more potent symbol
of his weakness than his penis his strength. History started when man
got clothes, hid his weakness and started to treat women badly. Before this
time, women had the edge and treated men well. This fairness by women,
lead to their downfall. Next time, we wont be so fair. Think for a moment.
Men - if you get kicked in the balls what happens. Women - if you kick a
guy in his balls, what happens. We're taught not to do this at an early
age. It is a male society's taboo. I propose an experiment. All the ladies,
here, pick a guy and knee him in the balls. See what happens". With that she
sat down.
Aileen from the traditionalists stood up. "I've listened very carefully to
that well presented argument. A simple knee in the balls is a good starting
experiment as not many women or men have had that experience. Is it a male
represive educational act or is it women who dont want to be hit back?
I propose another experiment as well. A naked fight between a male and
female of similar background and age. I propose 2 acedemics would suffice."
She sat down.
Teresa stood up and asked the adjudicator to grant permission for the
experiments to take place now. "Permission granted".
The audience was
re-arranged so females and males were paired off. The males stripped below
the waste to remove their protective clothing and allow the ladies a more
accurate shot at their targets." Over a duration of a few seconds, each
male and female pair drew their breaths in preparation for the act. As some
pairs were breathing deep other males were screaming and falling to the
floor.
Henrietta thought "yes, I was right about that so far". A few pairs were
brought to the podium to tell of their experience. The males said
"The feeling of total weakness during the event. And the feeling of great
vulnerability after". The females quoted "The feeling of surprise,
wonderment and it was quite funny during the event. And the feeling, of
power and control after". All pairs were asked to write their descriptions
down for later assessment.
Now for the fight, Janet and Mike. Both were non-physical, out of shape.
Late 30s academics. They were stripped down. And faced each other naked.
They appologised to each other for what they were about to do. Mike
approached Janet and swung at her. She wasn't nimble but she got out of
the way. The second swing, clipped her on the head. She lost balance and
fell. She tried to clamber up. He grabbed her. She bit into his hand.
He removed his hand to try to remove the pain, more instinct than tactics.
His swinging genitals caught her eye. She released her jaw and kicked out
at his male parts. She missed but caught his penis with her toe-nail.
They withdrew to gain breath. He quickly checked his penis. The nail had
cut the flesh a little.
As he looked up from viewing his damage, he walked on to a punch from her.
It hit him in the face. He was more surprised than hurt. She followed it
up with a punch to the gut. He was hurt. In his pain he punched her.
It landed in her gut. She hit the floor. She started to crawl away but he
chased her. When he had almost caught her, she turned. She was close enough
to grab his genitals. She did. She grabbed his balls in her right hand.
She pushed his body with
her head, grabbed his legs with her left hand. He lost balance and fell
backwards. His legs hit her in the mouth as he fell. She let go of his
balls. The momentum of his fall, had dragged her hand from his balls. They
were hurt. She regained herself and looked up at his pained fallen body.
She crawled over to his genitals. Her final attack. Was it prime-eivil
instinct - she didn't know. She sunk her teeth into his penis.
The other women finally prized her from his cock.
Teresa took the stand again. Well, we finally have the answer.
"The penis, a man's symbol of man's power over women has been a long kept
disguise for a man's testicals, a symbol of women's power over man. For us
women the answer is easy. We must fight every male, uncover his weakness,
we must remove his power symbol, his penis and use his balls to torture
his freedom like he has tortured women for so long".
Great applause.
From that moment on, another question arose. Were Teresa's words a metaphor
or to be taken literally. Men, certainly do have a hard time of it these
days. That is if they are with a woman who does not pertain to the literal
meaning.
I myself, dont really pertain to the literal meaning. But, I do get lapses
of consciense and head of to St. Teresa's with one of my latest males. Poor
soles. I'm glad I dont have a penis, you never know when your going to
lose it. |
Sylvia, The Dog Lover | STRAIGHT, WARNING, PENECTOMY, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION, Beastiality | The ever-horny Sylvia learns of Lance, a new, well-hung guy at work. She brings him home, and after a cocktail, he decides to freshen-up for a nice night of nookie with a shower. While he\'s gone, she takes on her big Great Dane dog, Kong. When Lance returns from the shower, Sylvia beds him down, but Kong has <U>other</U> ideas!~ | ` `
**Sylvia, The dog lover.**
Sylvia lived alone with her big Great Dane dog, Kong. She talked with a girl-
friend at work, who knew of Sylvia’s disdain for long-term relationships,
preferring, instead, hot one-nighters, with non-entangling alliances. Her
other need is that she likes guys with big cocks. Her girl-friend suggested a
new recruit in the marketing department, named Lance, who was gaining quite a
reputation as a stud, with the single ladies. Sylvia asked to be introduced to
him, and so her girl-friend set-up a meeting over cocktails at a neighborhood
bar, where many from her company met after work. They indeed met, and
exchanged pleasantries, until they’d loosened-up with a couple of drinks, and
Sylvia got right to the point.
"So, have you any plans for the evening?," she asked, as she planted her hand
very deliberately, in Lance’s lap. "I hear you’re pretty well-hung. I like
that in a guy."
"Wow!," he replied, "My reputation proceeds me!"
"You bet, stud," as she traced the outline of his stiffening cock, with the
tips of her roaming fingers. "What say you, we mosey over to my place, and
check these goods out?" And they did!
At her apartment, he met her roommate, Kong, the Great Dane, who seemed
friendly enough, once Lance got past the imposing size, and the fact that the
dog stuck his nose directly into Lance’s crotch, for a welcoming sniff! Sylvia
mixed them a drink, before she suggested they retire to the bedroom, and get-
down to the business of the evening, "‘Cause I’m coming down with the
hornies!," Sylvia interjected, as she led him into the bedroom, dropping
clothes as they went. She had a beautiful figure, with a shaved pussy, firm
breasts, capped with big, stiff nipples, long, blonde hair, and a lovely face.
Lance had a trim, buff body, short-cropped hair, intensely blue eyes, and the
rugged good-looks of a male model.
Sylvia stopped his undressing, when he got to his bikini jockeys, and pulled
them slowly down herself, allowing his already-stiffening, seemingly foot-long
penis, to spring up to an almost-horizontal position. "Wow!," she responded,
with a big grin, "Now __that’s__ what I was looking for!," as she took the
hard cock in both hands, admiring it, rubbing it against her lips, and kissing
it, as it rose to a fully-vertical position.
"Lemme grab a quick shower," Lance interjected, "I’ve been at work all day,
and I feel a bit grotty... I like to be squeaky-clean when I’m doing nooky
with such a fine-looking lady!"
"Oh no!, I’m too horny to wait," replied Sylvia, as she squeezed his huge,
full balls, hoping to discourage him. Reluctantly, she showed her fastidious
friend the way to the bathroom, and sat down on the long, low, exercise bench
at the foot of the bed, and began diddling her clit in anticipation.
Her Great Dane, Kong, who was well-used to this "invitation", arose from his
place in the corner, and strolled over to give his owner his usual sniff, as
Sylvia’s totally-shaved cunt was already starting to get wet. He licked her
pussy gently, snaking his long tongue deep into her vagina, before getting a
huge erection, and mounting her, thrusting his giant prick, twelve-inches
deep, up into her hot cunt, as she moaned her approval. The dog nipped and
chewed on Sylvia’s hard, erect nipples, and Sylvia was off to the races, so
horny, she started almost immediately cuming in a big orgasm, her pulsing
vagina causing the dog to climax, as his claws pushed into the floor, and he
rammed his squirting prick deep into her. She heard Lance turning off his
shower, and she suddenly realized she’d better wind this up ASAP! As usual,
Kong’s cock was still too hard to pull out of her, so she reached behind the
dog, to milk the hot sperm out of his big balls. He finished, panting
vigorously, and tried to pull out of Sylvia, but her cunt muscles wouldn’t
release the hugely, out-flared knot of his penis, until it softened and became
more flaccid.. Finally, Kong managed to pull out of her dripping cunt, just
before Lance came through the bathroom door, with his towel draped over his
shoulders, unaware that his big, swinging prick wouldn’t be the first one into
Sylvia tonight, and might not even be the last! By the time he dropped his
towel, his huge cock was rearing at least ten inches, vertically into the air.
She decided to skip the foreplay, so Lance wouldn’t be sniffing and licking
around her pussy, with her dog’s load still bubbling out of it! She grabbed
his big cock for a handle, laid him on his back, on the bed with it, climbed
astraddle his crotch, and impaled herself on his stiff prick with one drop,
ramming it in, up to the hilt!. The bulk of the dog’s heavy sperm squirted out
of her cunt in all directions, as Lance’s big cock jammed home, and forced it
out of her. "Jesus, girl, you must have sure been horny and wet!"
The dog smelled his own sperm, running out of her cunt, and all over Lance’s
balls, and came over to investigate. He started licking her running, bald
pussy, and Lance’s testicles, with some sort of territorial issues in his
head, and began biting Lance’s balls, first gently, and then, as Lance
resisted, and reached back to push the dog away, Kong then took Lance’s entire
scrotum firmly in his sharp teeth, and powerful jaws, biting and pulling on
the full ball-sack, shaking his big head from side-to-side. Quickly, his teeth
bit entirely through the ball-filled scrotum, as Kong pulled hard and shook
his head, ripping the ball-sack entirely out of Lance’s crotch. "Oh my God,"
laughed Sylvia, "He’s torn your nuts off, and he’s chewing and swallowing
them! He’s my nice dog, and he must have thought your were hurting me with
your big, rival cock!," as she rose off Lance’s dripping, waving prick,
shining in it’s stiffness. The sight and scent of that gigantic cock still-
smelling of Kong’s sperm from Sylvia’s twat, sent the dog into a frenzy, like
a charging bull seeing a red flag! The dog turned his head and jaws sideways
and grabbed Lance’s vulnerable penis at the root, snarling, and ripping it
from side to side like a shark. In no time, the big dog’s sharp teeth ripped
the huge prick completely off him, in a spray of blood and sperm, as Lance,
amazingly, had started cuming, with bolt after bolt of thick sperm, as soon as
he felt the dog’s sharp teeth drive deeply into his hard cock-meat. As Lance
groaned in pain, and reached down to feel his now feature-less groin, Sylvia
walked over to Kong and patted him on the head, reassuringly, with "Nice dog
... nice doggie...," as she tried to get him to release Lance’s mangled prick,
before eating it! Eventually, he let go of it, and she walked over to the
refrigerator and placed it in an ice-cube tray, in case Lance had any future
plans for it. The wound, where Lance’s cock had just departed, was bleeding
profusely, and still shooting cum out of his urethral tube, high into the air.
"God, I can’t believe you’re still cuming, when my dog’s just torn-off your
entire package!" Sylvia picked up her pair of discarded, crotch-less panties
from the bed, and dropped them into his lap, with the suggestion, "Here, use
these to try to stop the bleeding. You’d better go get yourself a cab, and get
over to the hospital, where they can sew you up!" As Kong licked the floor to
get all he could of Lance’s final, cascading sperm, which he’d obviously
developed a taste for, Sylvia said, "Well, this evening’s liaison seems to
have come to a roaring, screeching halt, since you’ve turned into a eunuch!
‘Sorry about that....but after you head off to the hospital for repairs, I
think I’ll just turn-in early, and catch ‘Sex And The City’ at 9:00 O’Clock
.... I think that’s the only sex either one of us is getting any-more of
tonight!"
"Sorry I seem to have inconvenienced your evening!," replied Lance, brusquely.
"Meanwhile, that dog is a menace, and has just inconvenienced my _sex life_!
Aren’t you going to do anything about him?"
Sylvia retorted, "He gets jealous of my lovers, and tries to protect me from
other males, who try to fuck me! What can I do?"
"Other males,?" asked Lance, you mean he’s done this before?"
"Oh, yes," she answered cheerily, "He’s castrated three of my humpies in the
two years I’ve had him! But he’s just getting __too__ naughty and possessive,
NOW! He’s never ripped any of their cocks off before! I guess I’ll have to
keep him chained-up in he living room, after this! And, Lance, if it makes you
feel any better, I thought you had a really beautiful, big, hard cock, before
you lost it! I love guys with nice, huge, thick penises, to fill me up, and
make me cum and cum! And I was really looking forward to having a good, long
go with it tonight!"
Lance reached for the door, to head for the hospital, pressing her crotch-less
panties to his still-bleeding groin, and saying "Well, that just makes me feel
EVER so much better! You might as well go-ahead, and feed it to your nice
doggie for a snack! It doesn’t appear re-usable!," as he slammed the door
behind him. After Lance left, she gave Kong a re-assuring pat on the head, and
walked over to the fridge to get him his dinner.
* * * |
Domestic Discipline for a Young Nullo | NULLIFICATION, MINOR, SPANKING | In the year is 2029 an upper-middle class 12 year old American eunuch is introduced to the darker side of human nature. There he discovers forms of strength, truth and beauty that can flourish only in the dark. He also discovers the true value of friendship and love. | There was something strange about my friend Cody. His moods and behavior went
through a two week cycle. For a few days leading up to the first and third
Mondays of each month he'd get, I don't know, sort of weird. Sort of stressed
out like some nasty school deadline was bearing down on him. But then the
Tuesday after he's be his old self again and he'd be happier than ever. All
that stress, or whatever it was, was simply gone. I didn't know what was going
on but I wanted to find out.
"Would you like to sleepover at my house tonight?" I asked Cody we rode our
bikes back from the park. I had already asked my mom and she said it was okay
and it was summer so we didn't have to worry about school the following day.
"No, I'm expected at home tonight," Cody answered.
"Then could I sleep over at your place?" I asked.
"Well you could," Cody answered. "But I don't think you'd want to."
"Why not Cody?"
"Max I don't think you'd understand. It's a boy thing."
"Oh yes, a boy thing," I said just a bit sarcastic. "And it's a Monday as
well. In fact it's the every other Monday when you get all weird. What's going
to happen Cody? Are you going to change into a werewolf and run around biting
people?"
"Max, that's not funny," he said.
"Well it's not fair either," I replied. "I never tell you that there are
things about me you wouldn't understand just because you happen to be a boy. I
thought we were friends."
"Have you ever heard of domestic discipline?" Cody asked.
"I don't think so," I replied.
"Well it's discipline within the household like when a husband spanks his wife
or a parent spanks his child."
"I follow you," I said.
"Well tonight I get spanked."
"Really?" I said almost laughing because it was pretty funny you'll have to
admit. But then I changed my tone and said, "I mean I'm really sorry to hear
that. What did you do?"
"Nothing," Cody replied.
"Nothing?" I asked. "Then why the spanking?"
"It's a maintenance spanking, not a punishment spanking," he explained. "A
maintenance spanking is a scheduled spanking for no reason at all except to
remind you that there are rules to follow and authority figures to be
respected. It's sort of like when you go to church once a week In church you
reaffirm your relationship with God. A maintenance spanking reaffirms your
relationship with the head of the household. Tonight before bed Grant will
spank me."
"Grant?" I said. "Grant is going to do it? But he's not your dad or even your
step-dad. He's just your mother's boyfriend and I thought you liked him!"
"First off all Max, my mom, my sister and I all live in Grant's house. That
makes him the head of the household. He has some say in how I'm razed. Second,
I do like Grant. I like him a lot. Sure he gives me discipline but so what."
"But he spanks you!"
"And I said, so what. Max when I asked you about your little abnormality you
said that lots of people didn't understand and that it wasn't for everyone but
that it felt right for you and I excepted that. Well domestic discipline feels
right for me."
"What I have isn't really an abnormality," I said. "Other kids our age have
had it done."
"Well what I have isn't really an abnormality either," Cody said. "Other kids
our age have been spanked and besides I really like the part that comes
afterwords, after the spanking. After he finishes Grand holds me and says how
proud he is of me for taking my punishment so well. He says I'm a brave boy
and he loves me. Sometimes he kisses me. A good maintenance spanking is like
an enema for the soul. It flushes away all the stress, all the guilt and all
the insecurities. It leaves you feeling clean and fresh."
Well that was interesting. I hadn't told anyone, least of all Cody, but I had
a huge crush on Grant. I had fantasies about being in bed with him and the two
of us kissing. I didn't really understand it. I wasn't suppose to develop
feelings like that for anyone. But everyone wants to be loved and I was no
exception. Would it be worth it, I wondered. Would it be worth letting Grant
spank me for the kiss he would give me after the spanking? I had to find out.
"So what happens if I sleep over at your place tonight?" I asked Cody.
"You'd follow the house rules like everyone else, and the house rules are;
this is the night boys get spanked," Cody said. "You get the same thing I do."
"Let's do it," I said.
"You sure?" Cody asked a little surprised as he turned to look at me.
"Yes," I said.
"Okay," he answered back.
That night at Cody's house we had pizza and coke and we swam in his pool. It
was a perfect summer's evening. But there was a sort of electricity in the
air, an undercurrent that excited me. It was sort of like watching an old
horror movie where everything is going well at the start but you know that
pretty soon the people in the movie will find themselves in peril and then
watch out! You'll find out who is brave and who is a wimp.
No one had said a thing about it but I'm pretty sure everyone was thinking
about what would happen later that night. Grant was really nice (as he always
was) and so it was difficult to believe that before the night was out he'd be
giving Cody and me our maintenance whether we needed it or not.
I had on my speedos with the the padded life like "little boy bulge" in front.
I should let you know that I'm not overly sensitive about being a nullo.
Really I'm not! Having been cut on my eight birthday I've had four years to
come to terms with it and mom says I've adjusted really well. But still,
castration was an unusual step for boys my age. Only about one kid in a
hundred was like me and I hated being asked the same old stupid questions over
and over again. Questions like, "How do you go to the bathroom?" and "Do you
like it?" and "Why were you cut so young?"
The answers are as follows;
1) I sit down to pee.
2) It's not bad.
3) My mom is a DA and she has seen way too many boys get into way too much
trouble for having way too much stuff in their pants. She didn't want that for
me. If you are going to have it done why not do it young? Why wait?
Simple answers but how often do I have to say it? That's the reason why I have
padding up front. It's so I can talk about things beside being a eunuch.
Cody's 14 year old sister looked fantastic in her swim suit and she was being
extra nice to me, treating me like I was her guest and not Cody's. She was
even flirting with me, and calling me "cutie". I wondered if she felt bad
about what was to come later or if she really liked me.
When I had a moment alone with Cody I asked, "Does Sally know about me? Does
she know I'm a eunuch?"
"No," Cody said. "I know you don't like to talk about it so I never told
anyone. No one here knows about that but me. Why?"
"I was just wondering," I said. I knew that some eunuchs married like normal
men and when the time came to make a baby they would invite a friend in to
sleep with their wives. I wondered how Sally would feel about something like
that.
Once out of the pool we dried off, dressed and went inside to play video
games. I was having so much fun that I forgot about what was about to happen.
At 9:00 PM Cody's mom came in and said, "Well boys, ready or not, it's that
time. How do you feel?"
"Good," we both sort of mumbled. I was scared but also very excited.
"Well then," she replied. "Have you remembered to visit the bathroom?" Now
that was an odd sort of question. It was the sort of thing a mother would ask
her six year old before a long drive.
"The bathroom?" I asked. "Are we going somewhere?"
"No darling," Cody's mom answered with sympathy. "But we don't want an
unexpected bowel movement or uncontrolled wetting to interrupt your
maintenance. You can't just get up to go when under restraints. If you have
any concerns tell me now and I'll have Sally give you a quick enema to flush
you out."
"Restraints?" I asked. "But way? I thought this was just a spanking. Is Grant
going to tie me down?"
"Of course he will dear. It's for your own safety. If all goes well his
attention will be limited to your bottom only. But if you tried to kick or
bite or fight him, and that's just what you will want to do, he would be
forced to hurt you even worse. The restraints will keep you under his control
and that will keep your maintenance under control."
"How bad will he hurt me?" I asked.
"That's entirely up to Grant. He can do whatever he wants to you. Just don't
beg for mercy or try to resist. That will only make matter worse. Once you
surrender completely to him and are willing to except whatever he does to you
your maintenance will be complete."
I felt my face flush in embarrassment and shame. I was afraid I was going to
cry. Cody's mom noticed and put her arm across my shoulders. "Don't worry
darling," she said. "I know this is your first time and you are afraid but
you'll be fine. Cody will show you the loft and make sure you understand what
is expected of you. Grant will soon follow and give you what you need. After
Grant is finished Sally and I will come and check to make sure you are not in
too much pain. We have ointment for you bottoms that will help take away the
sting. I'll give you a pill to make you sleep. By morning you'll be as good as
new."
Then she smiled at me and added, "And Max, I just had a really good
conversation on the phone with your mom. She is very proud of you as am I. You
are a very brave young man. What you are about to do takes real courage."
"You mean my mom knows about this?" I asked in disbelief. "She knows that I'm
about to have my ass hammered and she said, 'Okay, it will be good for him!'
No way!"
"Max your mother knows you are here for maintenance and she knows exactly what
that means. But that was not her first reaction at all. At first she was so
alarmed that she wanted to drive right over to bring you home. That's the
normal reaction. What mother wouldn't want to protect her child from pain? But
I explained that you understood what was to happen and that you wanted it.
Even so she was reluctant. I told her I understood her concern because it's
very difficult for me every-time I surrender my Cody for his treatment. No
matter how often it's done, it never gets any easier. But I do so because I
see the good it has done for him and because I love him. Your mom agreed for
maintenance for you because she loves you."
Cody lead the way as we climbed the stairs up to the loft. Step by step I
wondered how I had gotten into this fix. My tummy had butterflies the size of
bats. I just wanted the night to be over and to be home again. We entered the
loft and I gasped when I saw what was there. In the center of the room stood
two strange pieces of furniture and the horrible reality was driven home. I
was looking at to beautifully crafted and expertly upholstered, kid sized
spanking benches.
"We'll spend the night in this room," Cody said. "We won't be let out until
tomorrow morning. Don't let the whips you see on the walls or the butt plugs
on that table freak you out. They are mostly just for show. Grant collects
them. I've only been plugged a few times and I don't think it will happen
tonight. But of course you never know. Once he gets going on us feel free to
scream all you like, the room is sound proof so mom and sis won't freak out.
That double bed you see in the corner is where we'll sleep tonight. It's sort
of nice not to be left alone after maintenance. Thanks for being here."
Cody continued the tour by walking over to one of the expertly crafted
spanking benches and placing a hand on it. "This one is yours for the night.
Would you believe that Grant builds them himself in his wood-shop and sells
then on ebay for $10.000 each? They are considered the finest on the market.
We'll be beaten in style tonight. Grant is a man of many talents, as you will
soon learn. He's even trying to teach me how to build them but it feels sort
of weird, you know building a bench that you'll be displayed on."
"Displayed on?" I asked.
"Oh yeah, Don't be surprised if Grant takes some pictures of us after he
lights up our butts. Prospective costumers like to see the product line in
use. In fact if you have a look on the table over there you'll see a photo
album with some pictures of me in it as well as some other boys our age."
"Other boys?"
"Yeah, Grant sometimes holds workshops up here and every now and then parents
too weak to give their boys the treatment will send their little darlings to
Grant to do the job for them. Grant probably makes an extra $40,000 a year
from that alone. But don't tell anyone. We don't want the IRS to come
knocking."
I turned back to the door and saw that it had swung shut behind us. I tried it
and found it locked. We were trapped.
Cody went about the room lighting candles and then he dimmed the lights. It
was clear that this was going to be some sort of ritual. We were in a torture
chamber but it was a torture chamber with the ambiance of a fine restaurant.
Cody then started to undress and as he did so he said, "Listen Max and listen
good. A lot is ridding on your behavior tonight. This thing we are doing is
all about the transfer of power, the total transfer of power. Grant has all
the power and we have none. In here he doesn't have to be fair or answer to
anyone. His word is law. Remember that and this might not be too bad. We might
be able to walk away with nothing worse than a very bad spanking. But it's all
up to him. Don't give him reason to use the whip or the cane or the plugs.
Trust me, you don't want to go there."
Cody was standing before me now totally naked. His well tanned lean form was
lit by nothing but the candle light. He looked like an angel. He looked like
he belonged in heaven. But there was something odd about him. His little prick
was standing up at full attention. A part of him liked this!
"Cody, I really don't think I can do this," I said and started to tear up.
"This isn't want I thought it would be like at all. I didn't know I was going
to have to get naked. I thought that at worst I might just have to lower the
back of my pants but keep my nullo place covered."
"Welcome to domestic discipline Max. Now I really need you to strip. Grant
will be here soon and he won't be happy if you are not ready."
"I didn't know we were going to be naked," I repeated.
"Max, don't do this!" Cody pleaded. "Don't go all crazy on me! Not now! Not
tonight!
"Grant doesn't know I'm a nullo. Your mom doesn't know and Sally doesn't know.
But they'll find out. They will all find out that I was castrated."
"Does that matter?" Cody asked. "So they'll find out you're not a boy. Big
deal! At the moment I'd say we have bigger problems."
Slowly and silently I stripped. What else was there for me to do? I looked at
the floor and tried to forget I was different from other boys.
A moment later the door opened and in stepped Grant. I could see that he was
surprised to see what I was but he tried to mask his amazement. "Telephone for
you Max," he said and handed me his cell phone.
"Hello?" I said as it took the phone from his hand.
"Max honey, it's mom," the voice at the other end said.
"Oh hi mom," I said trying to sound casual. "What's happening?"
"What's happening with you? Grant says he is going to give you maintenance,"
mom said sounding pretty alarmed.
"Yeah, he's just about to get started," I replied.
"Max you know you've always been a great kid. You are my angel and the best
thing that ever happened to me," she said.
"I know," I said.
"Are you naked right now?" she asked.
"Yeah, I was ordered to strip and, you know, I have to follow orders."
"You don't mind it, I mean being seen like that considering well, you know,
how it is with you."
"It's okay," I said.
"I'm so proud of you darling," she said. "I never knew you were such a brave
boy." I wondered why she felt she had to call me a boy. I guess she meant it
as a compliment.
"Mom I don't mean to be rude or anything, but Grant is all ready to go to work
on me. He's waiting to tie me down."
"You mean after I sign off you are going to be beaten?" she asked. "It's going
to happen right now?"
"Yeah, Grant's really going to spank the crap out of me," I said praying that
this would bring her to her senses. I wanted her to jump in her car and rush
over to save me. I wanted her to tell Grant that she was calling it off and to
let me go. I wanted her to do something. But instead I heard her say. "I
promised myself that I'd be strong. I promised myself that I would not cry.
Max as hard as this is for both of us I know that this is what you really
need. I know it will make you stronger. and I love you very much!" And the
phone went dead. She was gone.
"Ready to start Max?" Grant asked. I nodded that I was. I was too afraid to
even look at him. I keep my face down. Grant was very gentle with me. He
placed has arms around me and drew me close. He brushed the long hair away
from my eyes and placing a hand under my chin lifting my face until our eyes
met. I gazed deep into those eyes and I could find no cruelty there. Only
concern. "Max," he said, "I'm not going to do anything to you that I wouldn't
do to Cody. You'll make it through this."
"She didn't stop it," I said. "I just talked with my mom on the phone and she
knows what you are going to do to me and she didn't stop it."
"That's right Max," Grant said. "Your mother knows that tonight you will be
stripped and beaten. It wasn't easy for her to agree to this but she did so
out of love for you. You will be beaten not for anything you did wrong but
only because this is Monday July 6th 2029. And no matter how good you are you
will be beaten again in two weeks time just because it will be July 20th."
"What?" I asked.
"Your mother has decided that it's in your best interest to have your
maintenance regularly scheduled just like it is for your friend Cody. You are
both great kids and we all want to keep you that way." Turning to Cody he
said, "Climb aboard. Max will strap you in."
Cody obediently climbed onto his bench and I applied the restraints to his
ankles and wrists as instructed. Cody's cute little-soon to be cherry red-ass
was propped up in the air the highest part of his body. It was nicely
positioned for discipline. But that's not all the bench did. It held Cody's
knees wide apart thus providing an unparalleled view of his exposed boy pussy
and hanging genitals. I had never seem anyone look so totally helpless.
Grant said, "Now use your open hand to give your friend a good hard smack
across his bottom but," he warned me, "be very careful not to hit his balls.
You might not understand this because you have none of your own but a boy's
balls are tender. Never hit a boy there."
I spanked Cody's butt but I don't think he felt much pain. "Harder Max," Grand
said. "I want to see you turn that little ass red!"
I hit Cody again. This time he started to whimper a bit and I noticed a red
mark was clearly visible. But that's not all I noticed. Cody's penis, which
had deflated when Grant entered the room, was stiff once again. Grant took my
hand and guided my fingers to Cody's hard cock and little balls. I felt his
tender genitals. I liked that and so did Cody!
"Oh fuck Max," I heard Cody gasp. "It feels really great when you do that!
Please don't stop!"
I turned to Grant and I said, "I don't understand. My beating made Cody's dick
hard. Why?"
"That's your first lesson of the night Max," Grant said. "Pain and pleasure
are related. They are two sides of the same coin. We have aroused Cody but we
will not provide relief. That's all part of his punishment, to be teased and
denied. Now it's your turn my young friend. Get on your bench."
When I was in position Grant tied me down. I could look up between my spread
legs and see my smooth crotch. I realized how I must look. If anyone entered
the room they would see the stark difference between Cody's tender young
boyhood and my state of emasculation.
Cody and I were side-by-side so close that we could hold hands. We did so to
comfort and draw straight from each other. I guess we were quite a sight,
stark naked bound and with our butts propped up in the air ready to be beaten.
In a rather possessive way Grant placed a hand on my butt as if he owned it
and squeezed it gently. He then ran his fingers over it lightly as a grocer
might check a melon for firmness and perfection. "Very nice," he said. With a
finger he gently probed my boy pussy He then ran his other hand down under and
caressed my nullo place. I sighed in contentment. It did feel good! He said,
"I see you are still a virgin Max but I don't think you will be for much
longer. I'll know when you've been taken."
He then drew his hand back a placed a firm smack on my unprotected and
helpless fanny. It hurt bad! Another and yet another smack were to follow. I
felt the heat rising in my butt. As he spanked me Grant taunted me. He said,
"You came here of your own free will my little nullo friend because deep down
inside you knew how much you needed this. And your mommy knows you need it
too, just the way she knew that you couldn't be trusted to keep your little
balls and dick. That's why she had you castrated."
That struck a nerve. No one had ever said that to me before. Grant wasn't just
spanking me, he was stripping me of my dignity, my self respect and my self
worth. "You asshole," I yelled. "You leave my mom out of this."
"Leave her out?" Grant asked. "But I wouldn't be doing this without her
approval. She agreed to let me spank the snot out of her pretty little
nullified boy every two weeks. You know I'm right. You know that you soft
little rich kids need to be put in your place. You know that you need me to
show you that the world isn't all cotton candy and Sunday picnics."
Grant was right about that part and I hated my mom for it. She never should
have let this happen to me. She should have stopped it but she didn't. It
almost felt like mom was beating me and not Grant. I hated them both. I wanted
them dead. With every last bit of my strength I fought to free myself but it
was hopeless I was held tight. And that was a good thing really. Had I been
able I would have killed Grant, or at least tried to. And Grant knew I wanted
to kill him. "You'd like to hurt me Max. Well I'm just going to have to beat
that right out of you," he said.
I realized then that there was one weapon I had at my disposal and I used it.
When I had been cut the doctor rerouted my piss hole so that it would shot
down when I sat down to go. Well now it was perfectly positioned to take a
shot at Grant. I let go and a golden stream of warm piss burst forth from me
and hit Grant right in the face! He jumped back in shock. Whipping the piss
from his face he said, "Well you're just full of surprises aren't you my
little friend."
He then went away and came back with a roll of duct-tape. He used some of it
to cover my hole. "I'd like to see you try that little trick again my nullo
friend," he said as he patted my fanny. My shame was complete. Grant beat my
ass some more.
When I felt I could take it no longer Grant turned his attention to my friend.
I could hear the relentless whack whack whack of his hand on Cody's
defenseless butt and Cody's sobs and futile pleads for mercy. That added to my
feelings of hopelessness. I could do nothing to relieve the suffering of my
friend. Nothing but hold his hand and pray that the beating would soon stop.
As Grant occupied himself with Cody I was able to gather my straight and steel
myself for the next assault on my tortured ass. Before long Grant did return
his attention to me. Although I was helpless I knew that I was not along. Cody
was holding my hand trying to pass his straight to me. We both broke at about
the same time. Cody and I were both sobbing uncontrollably and incoherent. We
had nothing left and Grant knew it.
"Okay you've had enough," Grant said as he rubbed my back. "The two of you did
great. I never though you'd last so long. I'm so proud of you both. You are
wonderful kids." He leaned down and kissed me on the back of my neck. I wanted
him to kiss me again. I wanted him to kiss me everywhere!
Grant had the power to strip away all my pride and and self respect. He even
had the power to take away my love for my mother. But he also had the power to
give it all back. He could take it and he could return it and that was a
wonderful thing. You don't really know the value of anything until it has been
taken away. You don't really appreciate anything until it has been returned,
and you don't really understand yourself until your limits have been tested
and broken. I could have spent the last hour playing video games and learned
nothing. Instead I spent an hour on a spanking bench and learned so much.
As strange as is sounds, at that moment, I truly loved Grant. There was some
unnamed thing that I had needed and he had given it to me. I also loved my
mother more than ever before. This was hard for her but she knew what I
needed. She knew that I needed an man strong enough to hurt me and strong
enough to love me.
Grant opened the door and called down to Cody's sister and mom. "We have two
very well beaten boys up here who need to be put to bed."
Cody and I were still tied to our benches, our faces streaked with dried
tears, and I knew that there would be no way that I'd be able to hide my empty
crotch form Sally or her mom, but I didn't really care. The beating had
removed all my vanity. I no longer needed to hide the fact that I was a nullo.
Never again would I ask my mom to buy shorts or swimwear with boy padding.
As Cody's mom attended to him Sally took good care of me. She applied ointment
to my burning butt and it felt better right away. She also carefully pealed
away the duct-tape that had covered my piss hole. She didn't say a word about
it and she didn't ask any questions and I loved her for that.
Then I was released from the bench and helped to stand. I was still pretty
shaky. Fighting the restraints had really drained me and left me as weak as a
kitten. Grant carried me to the bed and with great care placed me down next to
Cody who took my hand in his. We were both naked but we didn't care. We looked
up at Grant and Sally and Sally's mom and they looked down at one very well
beaten nude boy and one very well beaten nude nullo. Cody and I knew that we
were now safe and loved and we were happy.
The next day was spent recuperating. But that evening I felt reborn and
renewed and well enough to ran up the walkway to my house and throw myself
into the waiting arms of my mother. We hugged as if I had been away for years.
"Oh Max," she said, "It's so good to have you home again. I was so worried
about you and now I'm so happy to have you back. How do you feel?"
"I'll be sleeping on my stomach for the next few nights but other than that I
feel good," I answered.
"Well how was it?" she asked.
"It was okay."
"Just okay?" she asked. "Was Grant too hard on you?"
"Grant gave me just want I needed. No more and no less. The thing is, what
happens in maintenance is sort of personal."
"Max you do understand that, like it or not, I will be sending you back to
Grant in two weeks time and every two weeks after that. It's for your own
good."
"A day or two before my maintenance I might sulk. I might act angry. I might
even act like I don't want it. But don't worry. I know it's what I really
need" I said, "And mom I love you."
(The End)
Dear Readers. If you liked this story (or even if you didn't) please leave a
post on the message board and I'll read it.
Thanks!
* * * |
THE WIFE's CHOICE -- A JOKE | PENECTOMY | AFTER AN ACCIDENT THE WIFE MAKES A CHOICE FOR HER AND HER HUSBAND. | << A man was in an accident and his penis was chopped off.
He was rushed to the hospital where the doctor examined him, and
after careful examination said, "We can replace it with a small
size for $2,000, a medium size for $5,000, or an extra-large size
for $10,000. I realize it's a lot of money, so take your time and
talk it over with your wife."
When the doctor came back into the room he found the man staring
sadly at the floor.
"We've decided," the man told him as he choked back tears. "My wife
says she'd rather have a new kitchen." |
My Cheating Husband Will Cheat No More | TESTICLES | A cheating husband gets one nut cut out by his wife with his own "tool" he uses to castrate farm animals. | One night at the dining room table I had been talking through supper about
when and if we were going to get my husband's nut out because he had been
promising me he would let me do it with the "tool" he uses to cut his farm
animals. Mel has no idea that I am really ticked off at him because I heard he
had cheated on me once again.
I go to the kitchen cuboard and get a big pan and fill it with water. I then
place it on the stove to boil. I go to the other room and get the tool out and
one of his fish filleting knives and put them both in the pan. Mel asked me
what I was doing that for and I said you never know but tonight might be the
night and if it is I want to be ready. When the mood hits you I am going to do
it. He complains that he really doesn't know if he wants me to use the tool or
the knife. I said well, I will be ready either way. But the point is we are
going to do it.
He goes into the bathroom and takes a shower. He comes back to the living room
and starts watching TV never mentioning gettting cut. I go take a shower and
put on my shorty pj's that he likes and say, hey let's go into the computer
room and get on the web and read some stories about castration. That always
turns him on. It turned both of us on and we retired to our bedroom. I keep
talking about how much I want to cut him but for right now I have some
personal things I need to do. We have sex with me climaxing a couple of times
and then I give him a blow job. All the time massaging his nuts and telling
him how much I want to see one of them outside of the nut sack.
Mel is starting to get nervous as he had noticed some ropes lying under the
bed and what he though was dog collars. I placed the collars on his wrists and
ankles and said lets take a nap for a little while. This is about 8 p.m.
At about 11 p.m., I start playing around and talking about cutting him again.
He gets a hard on and I say, I want to secure you in case I get in the mood to
cut, so I tied him up on the bed. Mel starts getting hot and in the mood to be
cut. He says well, lets just see how far you will go you slut because you
always want to hack away and I am just as sore the next day as if you had
really cut me. That really made me mad. I turned around and set on his face
and told him to please me or he will be sorry. I just finished satisfying
myself and cleaning up when someone knocks on the door.
It is Kim, my friend who I had called from the other room before beginning
this last session. I told her Mel had been unfaithful again and I had had it
with him. She said she and her boyfriend would come over and help me cut Mel.
I told them to watch a little tv while I got Mel in the mood again. I got Mel
excited and I called those two in the room. We untied him and took him to the
office where the computer was. We tied him up to the office chair. We strapped
his body to the back of the chair, his legs raised and tied to the arms of the
office chair and his hands tied behind his back. I say, "this is it". You have
begged and begged to be cut and I know you cheated on me, so you are losing a
nut. The guy with my friend Kim can not believe we are going to do this. I
move the office chair so that it is centered on the plastic pad underneath the
chair. I say we will cut him over this chair pad. That way no blood will get
on the carpet. The guy says damn, I can't believe this. Mel starts squirming a
little bit and I tell him to sit his ass still he had asked for it.
The guy asks if I am taking both. I laugh and say, no --- I want him to go
through the pain twice and I may even cut his sack off the last time. I get a
straight razor and shave the hair on his balls. Kim puts betadine on the bag,
and Mel is really starting to squirm now. He tries to talk and I get tired of
listening to his whining and I put a ball gag on him. Now Mel knows his
fantasy is about to happen.
I turn the computer on and show Kim a picture I had found of them cutting the
bag and removing the nut from the sack and eventually cutting the cord. She
says okay, here we go. She uses the tool which is much faster that a knife,
you hear it go "click" and the bag is open and then she pulls the nut out of
the sack. I say I want to be the one to tie it off. I tie it off and I cut the
cord. Her boyfriend fainted at the sight of that. Kim and I laugh at him.
I then dangle your nut in front of you and say, "there you prick, you finally
got your wish". How do you like me now????
I clean you up with alcohol which burns like hell but I don't care. Kim sews
you up and I release the restraints and we all help you into bed. I get the
ice bag, and crawl into bed next to you and tell you that when I am through
with you I will be the only one getting sex from you because I will be
controlling the hormones.
When will the next one go??
* * * |
Cuckold's Warning, Chapter 4 | STRAIGHT, WARNING, PENECTOMY | Once you start down that path, your wife\'s goal may be different than yours. | ` Cuckold's Warning `
Chapter 4
By the time I reached the door out of the front room, they were already
beginning to climb the stairs. My wife looked back over shoulder, saying,
"Hurry up, sweetie! I don't want to keep Jack waiting." They continued
upstairs, and I walked faster to catch up, slowing only when I came up behind
them as they reached the bedroom door.
Once inside, they stood by the bed, kissing passionately. Jack's hands roamed
everywhere on my wife's body, and I could tell by her sighs and small
movements that she was becoming even more aroused by his attentions. She
pulled away from him a short distance, then said to me, "Honey, I want you to
undress me for Jack." She then stood there waiting, as if unsure of my
reaction. I was also unsure, but only for a split second. I took the two steps
necessary to reach her, and with trembling hands untied the string that held
her halter in place.
As the flimsy piece of cloth hit the floor, Jack said in a husky voice,
"Jesus, Sandie. You have the most perfect breasts of any woman on this planet.
That has to be the most beautiful sight in the world." His hands then slowly
reached out to her, and began to caress them, moving in sensuous circles
around the engorged nipples, and every now and then pinching and tweaking
them. Her sighs, and increasingly ragged breathing, signaled the success of
his attentions, and I saw her arch her neck back and push her breasts even
closer to him.
Again I felt as if hypnotized, and was unable to move until she said, "The
rest of it, honey! Hurry! I need him so bad!" That order seemed to awaken me,
and I reached toward her waist to begin pushing down her shorts. She stopped
me with a curt, "Not like that! On your knees!"
My brain was in my balls by that time, and I was sure my cock was harder than
it had been in years. Without conscious thought, I knelt at her side and began
to complete the undressing of her lovely body. In a matter of seconds, she
stood completely naked before her lover, and again he told her how beautiful
she was.
I had somehow expected her to order me to undress him also, but that didn't
happen. Instead, she unbuttoned his shirt and removed it. She then dropped to
her knees and unlaced his shoes. They were quickly removed, followed by his
socks. She then unbuckled his belt, unfastened and unzipped his trousers, and
slowly pulled them down.
The tent I saw in his undershorts caused me to fear for my wife's safety, and
I knew then what she had meant by feeling like a virgin again when he had
first fucked her. Even though I couldn't yet see the true size of his penis,
it was apparent that it was much larger than mine. The head of the thing was
almost sticking above the waistband of his undershorts, and that meant it
surely had to be at least 8" long. As I thought of my own penis, not quite 6"
in length, I could understand why Sandie would say his was twice the size of
mine. I'm sure it felt that way to her.
She then pulled down his undershorts, revealing to my transfixed eyes the
thing that she so loved to feel between her legs. As it sprang downward a
short amount, then stood there throbbing slightly, I had to change my doubting
opinion about his cock being double the size of mine. The diameter of the
thing looked to be easily that much larger than mine, and I knew instinctively
I was no match for him.
As soon as he had stepped out of his trousers and shorts, Sandie reached up to
his cock and began to slowly caress it. She looked at me, and said in a soft,
dreamy voice, "Isn't it beautiful, honey? Do you see now what I meant about it
being twice the size of yours? It's no wonder I felt like a virgin again, is
it?"
I hoped she wasn't expecting a response from me, for I was simply unable to
make one. The sight of my wife's hand lovingly caressing her lover's penis was
almost too arousing to watch. His already rampant cock seemed to grow even
more as she paid homage to it, and I could see the tiny drop of pre-cum
beginning to form on the tip of the swollen head.
After she had caressed and stroked his member for what seemed like an
eternity, she said, without looking toward me, "Get undressed." At no time had
she ceased her attentions, and it seemed that her order to me was nothing but
an afterthought. I was incapable of disobeying her by then, and moved hands
and fingers that were made of wood, trying to get them to unbutton my shirt.
At last I was successful, and soon my clothing was laying on the floor along
with my wife's and her lover's.
She stood and led him to the bed then, never releasing her hold on his massive
organ. After asking him to lie in the center of our king-size bed, she also
climbed up on it and straddled his legs, resting lightly on his knees.
Without taking her eyes from his throbbing cock, she spoke softly to me,
saying, "Honey, get up here with us. I want you beside Jack, with your head
right here." When she said that, she patted the part of the bed beside his
midsection, and I'm sure I broke all speed records as I hurried to obey.
As soon as I was in place, she scooted forward and raised her crotch, stopping
as her pussy was a few inches away from that part of him that was the center
of our attention. My head was now less than a foot away from the thing, and I
could see the drop of pre-cum had grown so much that it was ready to drop off.
In an even more husky voice, Sandie said, "Sweetie, rub that stuff all over
the head of his cock. It'll help him get in me." As my hand moved to obey, I
knew both of them were watching intently as I performed this act which would
help another man find it easier to fuck my wife. I soon was oblivious to their
presence, for the simple act of touching the head of his penis seemed to find
a new side of me, and I reveled in the exquisite softness of his glans, which
was, at the same time, so very hard.
I used one fingertip to spread his juice over the massive thing, and was
almost reluctant to pull my hand away when she said, "That's enough. It's for
me, not you." She had put her hand on my wrist as she said that, and used it
to drag my hand away from the oh-so-fascinating part of him that was now
bobbing back and forth even faster.
She then re-positioned herself above his member, but paused before lowering
her crotch to accept him. Again she said softly, "Put it in me." I placed one
hand on the shaft of his cock, and held it still beneath her. She began to
slowly lower her pussy toward it, and I watched as she began to impale
herself.
Both of them sighed deeply as the head disappeared from sight. For my part, I
was unable to utter any sound whatsoever, other than my ragged breaths. I
remember hearing her moans of pleasure as his member sank deeper and deeper
into her, and also hearing him tell her how very beautiful she was. That
instantly shamed me, for I knew that at no time in my life had I given her a
compliment like that when she consented to having sex with me. In some deep
recess of my brain, I realized that she needed that, and it was an important
part of her attraction to her lover.
By the time she had been fucking him for about five minutes, she said
breathlessly, "That's as far as you were ever in me. After that, I'm a virgin
again." I had eyes for nothing other than his cock slowly disappearing in my
wife's pussy, and knew when she said that, about 1/3 of his shaft had yet to
enter her. I'll never be able to explain why that simple statement didn't make
me jealous, but seemed to incite feelings of love and arousal that threatened
to overwhelm me. Rather than wanting to pull him off her, I had to fight with
my arms to keep them from pressing her down with all the force they could
bring to bear.
I have no way to estimate how long they fucked, other than it seemed like an
eternity on one hand, and a split second on the other. I do know that their
lovemaking lasted far, far longer than any time she and I had done it, and
again I was ashamed at how selfish my own performance had been. It was obvious
to see that Jack was concerned about Sandie's pleasures, not his own.
The simple fact was demonstrated time and again by the way he caressed and
stimulated her breasts as she rode him, by the way he constantly told her how
very beautiful she was to him, and by the way he would use one finger to
stimulate her clitoris as she pumped up and down on his cock. Everything about
his actions spoke of his concern for her pleasure, and when she finally felt
her orgasm overwhelm her, she begged him to find his own pleasure at the same
time.
There was no mistaking when that moment of supreme pleasure consumed her, for
she seemed to allow every ounce of her weight to be used to force her own
impalement, at the same moment uttering her wordless cry of delight. She then
began to pant the words I had never heard her say, but would have done
anything to hear, if I had known they were within her.
Her so-erotic words were simple, and were repeated over and over as she
climaxed. "Oh, God, Jack. Please cum in me. Please do it. Hurry. Fill my
pussy." The passion in those simple words was almost more than I could bear,
and I could feel my own orgasm building ever closer.
I saw his hips lift from the bed then, seeming to lift her to the ceiling, and
causing his cock to bury itself even deeper. She gasped one final time then,
and I saw her head thrust back so violently that it seemed her neck had
broken. Again and again her body shuddered, and I could tell by his actions
that their juices were mixing deep within her.
At last he settled slowly to the bed once again. She seemed to have lost the
ability to sit upright, and fell forward on his chest. He wrapped his arms
around her, hugging her to him with all his strength as they kissed fervently.
All good things must end, and their kiss did too. Sandie raised her body back
to its former position and looked down at me, saying, "Now do you see what
real fucking is like?" I seemed to have lost the ability to speak, and could
only nod my head in mute affirmation. In truth, I did know the difference
between my performance and true lovemaking, for it had been demonstrated to me
quite vividly. Again the shame I felt warred with the extreme excitement and
lust that threatened to consume me.
It was then that she lifted off his semi-erect member and moved back to sit
lightly on his knees. At the same time as she did that, she placed one hand
between her legs, and I could see she was using her fingers to pinch her pussy
lips together. No explanation was needed for why she was doing that, and I
knew that the time was near when I would be expected to do my part.
Sandie placed her free head under my head and lifted it off the bed. Not a
word was said as she guided it toward her lover's crotch, and the still-large
penis. Even though it was now resting at peace on his stomach, it was still
more than half erect. The thing was completely covered in their combined
juices, and it glistened in the light of the lamp on the nightstand.
I don't know if anything was said to me, and I don't know if Sandie's hand was
at all necessary. I do know that I began to lick his member as frantically as
if I were starving, and he was allowing me the only food left in the world.
Her hand was on my head the whole time my tongue was servicing him, and it
seemed to guide me from the tip of his cock to the base of his balls. The only
time her hand left its position was when she lifted his penis from his
abdomen. Again, no instructions were needed for me to know it was time to open
my mouth and complete my efforts.
Having his member in my mouth, so soon after it had been in my wife's vagina,
seemed the most natural thing in the world right then. The taste was no
different from what she had fed me one week ago, although the quantity
certainly was. Where she had almost drowned me, he was giving me just a small
portion. Probably the most exciting thing about it was the texture of his
penis. I had never realized how exquisitely soft and velvety smooth the head
of a cock would be. I had never known a texture to equal the ridges and bumps
in the shaft. The most marvelous part, though, was feeling the thing expanding
in my mouth as it responded to the attention I was giving it. By the time
Sandie pulled my head away, it was fully erect once again, and able to stand
unaided.
She said, simply, "Now it's my turn." I needed no instructions to lower my
head to the bed, and once again lie on my back. She quickly moved off Jack's
legs and placed her knees beside my head, her still-pinched pussy centered
over my mouth.
Her only words to me were, "Your dessert is ready. Enjoy." She pulled her hand
away, and held her crotch in position, letting me look at the most lovely
sight in the world. As I watched, her pouting lips parted slightly, and the
treasure she had held within herself began to slowly drop toward my waiting,
wide-open mouth.
I saw her leaning forward slightly, looking down at my face. At that moment,
the first gobbet of their cum broke free and dropped onto my tongue, and I
savored the delicious flavor as the taste buds there responded to it. I saw
the next icicle of their juices forming, and quickly swallowed the first.
Again I opened as wide as possible, and again was rewarded with another
mouthful.
Sandie then settled in place on my lips, and I began to service her in the
manner which she had taught me. It took all my concentration to follow her
instructions by swirling my tongue around the slit, and then concentrating my
efforts on her hole. Mouthful after mouthful was sent to its rightful home in
my stomach, and much too soon there was no more to be had, even though I
sucked as strongly as I dared. It seemed that I was simply out of my mind with
frenzied lust by then, and no amount of their cum could have slaked my thirst.
When she at last lifted off me, it was all I could do to not pull her back
down, hoping there would be at least one more tiny drop for me. She had other
ideas by then, and asked for her lover's help in putting them in action. Her
voice was once again husky with emotion as she said, "Jack, lift his legs back
over his head."
I wasn't capable of rational thought by then, and simply had no idea of her
purpose. As he did her bidding, though, and as she placed her hand on my cock
at the same time as she ordered, "Open your mouth," I knew what she intended.
It was beyond my ability to disobey, and my mouth sprang open as wide as
possible.
As he held my legs above my head, Jack pushed his erection up against my
balls. He seemed to unconsciously begin moving the thing against me, and I
could feel his sac pressing against my exposed butthole. Along with everything
else, that action, which would have been disgusting to me in a more lucid
state of mind, simply added to the sexual excitement that had overcome me.
My glazed-over eyes watched in fascination as she stroked my penis, and I'll
never forget the sight of the slit in my cock head expanding, and the first
spurt of semen literally exploding out of it. She stopped pumping me then, and
simply aimed my cock at the target. I won't pretend that "quarts of cum" shot
into my mouth, as some writers like to say. Rather, my entire load filled me
only once. I held my mouth open as I waited for more, but when she saw my
orgasm was complete, my wife said softly, "Swallow it." I did.
I won't bore you with further descriptions of what the three of us did that
night. Suffice it to say that both my wife and Jack had been aroused by the
attentions I paid them, and as soon as they were able, they began to make love
for the second time. About an hour later, my services were again required, and
while they were exciting to me, my second orgasm of the night was not allowed.
I remember Jack saying something about being exhausted, and needing to go home
for some much-needed rest. Sandie agreed with his assessment of their
condition, and watched quietly as he dressed. We walked with him down the
stairs and to the door, neither of us bothering to dress. The lovers kissed
good night, and Jack left. We turned off the lights around the house, just as
we normally would, and returned to our bed, just as we normally would.
As we lay in bed, drifting off, Sandie said in a drowsy voice, "That was the
best thing that's ever happened to me. I'm so glad I found your stories,
aren't you?" I think I mumbled some sort of agreement, but I'm not sure. She
was talking very softly then, and as I strained to hear, it sounded like she
said, "I loved seeing you suck his dick. When he rubbed it against your
asshole while holding your legs up, I wanted to see him put it in you. Maybe
next time." She was then quiet, and I knew she'd dropped off, exhausted by her
hard night's "work."
I also fell asleep then, and had no conscious thoughts for many hours. I do
know that my sleep was visited by some pretty arousing dreams, probably
because of the lingering taste of the cum of three different people. It was
worth it, though, because when we awoke late the next morning, Sandie was
ready for me to service her again. I love doing that, and had come to believe
it was my destiny to do it for her forever.
* * * |
The Wish 2 | BI, PENECTOMY, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION, MINOR | Paul becomes Pau. | ` THE WISH `
By Pueros & Razor
Chapter 2 – Plains
(Another place)
The castratix was about to make her incision into Paul’s ball sac when the
huge double doors of the temple crashed open and a female warrior on a
splendid black charger burst into the cavernous chamber. The ensuing clamour
was sufficient to arouse the boy from his nonchalant reverie, caused by his
recent unparalleled sexual ecstasy and utter disbelief in his surroundings.
The 15 years old lifted his head to see that the rider was a lovely young
lithe woman, with long flowing black hair that matched the hue of her steed.
“The divine boy is not for you!” she shouted with determination and menace.
The castratix, sacred task incomplete, turned and observed her acolyte, the
younger masturbatix, scream in fright and flee in terror. However, the older
priestess retained her ground and moved her head back to watch as the high
priest tried to inspire the lesser priests to defend their newly created
divinity. The leather-skirted men had withdrawn swords from scabbards,
attached to their skimpy attire, but the weaponry seemed insufficient against
the female warrior’s ferocious daring and almost absurdly sized large sabre.
Her blade sliced through defenders’ flesh as if it were butter and swords as
if they were twigs.
The castratrix turned back to the splayed boy, the nails of her fingers almost
absently still stroking his still iron-hard cock. She lifted the blade to
conclude the sacred rite but then hesitated again in order to glance over her
shoulder towards the remorselessly advancing female warrior, who had already
bloodily cut down several of the priests. Three had been decapitated on her
way towards the plinth on which the amazed Paul lay. Only two priests were now
left to bar her way.
“We shall meet again, divine boy,” the castratix suddenly declared, with a
vicious smile that could not also hide deep anger and disappointment, “and
what has now been thwarted will be finished!” With this chilling promise, the
priestess ran away from the plinth just as the female warrior, astride her
mount, arrived to take her place.
Paul could now appreciate that the horsewoman was just a girl, regardless of
her obvious valour and highly skilful but very brutal swordplay. Her gory but
successful passage towards him was illustrated by the blood-splattered black
leather cuirass, which covered her ample chest, and short pleated white skirt,
which hid her sumptuous loins whilst allowing most of her sublime legs to be
viewed in all their wondrous glory down to her knees.
As the girl arrived beside Paul, he could not prevent himself from screaming
“No!” after she raised her bloodstained sabre to bring the curved blade
crashing down on him. The boy waited for his blood to gush and pain to
overwhelm him but he then realised, after three more rapid accurate strikes
from the razor-sharp weapon, that none of the blows had actually struck his
naked cum-covered body, still sporting an impressive jolting erection. No part
of his beautiful form had been detached or damaged by the weapon. Instead, it
had been the leather straps that attached him to the cool stone surface that
had suffered such a fate.
“Quick,” shouted the gorgeous young female warrior, in the strange language
that Paul could mysteriously now both understand and speak as the couple of
uninjured priests hurried close, “climb up on my horse. We must make good our
escape! Unless, of course,” and she smiled sweetly as she made the comment,
“you have no desire to keep your genitals intact.” The boy, still sure that
this was not real, nevertheless found himself rapidly trying to acquiesce to
her command. He rose to his feet on top of the plinth but found his splendid
new body unsteady, which caused him to sway dangerously and almost fall off
the stone edifice. However, assisted by a welcome helping hand from his
delectable rescuer, the 15 years old somehow achieved his aim, speedily
finding himself astride her magnificent beast, behind the rider’s wondrous
form.
Paul held the girl tightly round the waist, unable to do anything about his
rigid semen-covered cock, which embarrassingly pressed against her skirt and
into her bumcrack. Fortunately, the boy’s obvious continued sexual excitement
and need did not deflect the young female warrior from completing her mission.
She made her horse rear up to frighten the approaching priestly duo before,
beginning with a large bound, the steed made its way speedily back towards the
entrance doors. Another ecclesiastic head was detached from a body on the way.
Paul’s amazement at the lucidity and strangeness of what was happening around
and to him was compounded by the sight of the outside world. As the horse
skilfully bolted down the many wide stone steps at the front of the temple, he
saw that the huge building seemed to be located in the middle of a luscious
green oasis amidst a massive barren plain. Palm trees, amongst which were a
number of small stone huts with domed roofs but seemingly no people,
surrounded a large pond, much of the surface of which was covered with huge
water lilies whose petals were of many bright exotic colours. However, the
escaping duo were soon bounding quickly across the vast plain, the sandy
ground of which was a blazing yellow and the many large rocks and boulders
bright purple.
The expanse seemed to be surrounded by distant mountains of a deep black but
with snow-covered white summits that sparkled in the sunlight. However, it was
the providers of this light that intrigued Paul most of all for in the sky
above, a much deeper blue than he had ever experienced on Earth, were two
suns, the bigger glowing a brilliant red and the smaller a blinding white.
Nevertheless, the boy’s wonder at the vivid bizarre surroundings that his
imagination had created was to be temporarily short-lived. His intimate
proximity to this mysterious girl, allied to his new libido and the vigorous
movement of the horse that made his engorged cock involuntarily rub
continuously up and down the young female warrior’s bumcrack as the pair
proceeded across the plain, caused the fast rebuilding of sensations in his
groin, which could only lead to one embarrassing development.
Paul’s grip on the girl’s waist tightened and he could not prevent himself
again shouting “Oh….God, ooh……..God, ooooh…………God” before, amidst further
intense ecstasy, he poured much semen onto the rear of the skirt of his
rescuer, who recognised what was happening before she felt the dampness of the
boy’s cum permeate through the cloth to her sublime bottom underneath, mainly
bare because her undergarment was a white thong. However, no thought of
recrimination crossed the young female warrior’s mind. Instead, a smile came
to adorn further the immaculate beauty of her face.
Paul later had a second accident before, after what seemed many hours, the
young female warrior stopped her apparently tireless horse at another smaller
and unpopulated oasis. The girl energetically leapt down from her steed, the
rear of her skirt stained and still wet with much sperm. She then helped the
deeply abashed and very sheepish Paul to dismount. It had been the first time
that the boy had been on the back of a horse, but he was now going to
encounter many other happenings that he had not previously experienced, even
in his wildest imaginings, which he still considered this be. However, this
latter mistake was soon to be corrected.
The noise created by the horse as it had galloped across the yellow and purple
plain, along with movement that took human breath away, had prevented
conversation. However, Paul, happy to co-operate with his delicious dream, now
broke the silence by saying “Thank you!” as he was helped to the ground and
the horse trotted to the oasis pond to enjoy a well-deserved drink. The naked
boy, trying to hide his humiliatingly still-hard cum-covered cock with his
hands, also tried to continue talking by apologising for his genital accidents
but his rescuer interrupted him. She responded, with a delightful smile that
almost caused the 15 years old to orgasm again, “Please, there’s no need to be
sorry, Divine Pau. I had, after all, been charged by the Great Kaluuth to look
after your boyhood. You see, Divine Pau, your sexual organs were and remain in
great danger!”
(Chicago, U.S.A., same time)
Paul’s tearful mother was taking a proper interest in her son’s welfare for
the first time. However, as she sat at his hospital bedside, with the comatose
boy’s hand in her own, she wondered whether her concern had come too late.
(Another place)
“What do you mean,” asked Paul politely but not unreasonably, “and why are you
calling me Divine Pau?” The girl maintained her disarming smile and answered
“Come let us clean ourselves at the water and, after we have done so, I shall
tell you all that I am allowed to reveal to you.” She then reached out for the
boy’s hand, which he felt compelled to remove from its genital concealment
duties to provide, and led him to the pool.
When the duo were at the edge of the water, which Paul noticed was crystal
clear, the girl released the boy’s hand and started to undress herself. The 15
years old now encountered great difficulty in masking the sight of his
increasing excitement from the young female warrior’s view, as his cock again
became like a vibrating red-hot iron bar. He saw that his companion was
looking at him as she first removed her knee-high leather riding boots before
moving to her cuirass to reveal her resplendent breasts, nicely large and
rotund and crowned with little red saucers surrounding firmly erect red
nipples.
Paul was having to move his hands up and down to maintain the cover above his
now wildly throbbing penis, drooling precum, as the girl’s hands pushed
downwards on her skimpy skirt and her impeccably lithe thighs came enticingly
into view. After the garment had eventually dropped to the ground, only the
warrior’s sparse white thong remained on her exquisite form, but not for long.
Paul realised that the girl was teasing him when she very deliberately pulled
her thong downwards, allowing the cute triangle of pubic hair into sight with
wanton tormenting slowness. However, the striptease gradually finished and the
young female warrior, obviously proud of her resplendent body, stood nude
before the boy, with legs astride and hands on hips. “Do you like what you
see, Divine Pau?” she then asked. The 15 years old, mouth suddenly very dry,
could only nod affirmatively.
“I like what I see too,” the girl announced, “and so perhaps the Divine Pau
will allow me taste his boyhood after we have bathed. Come, hold my hand and
let us enter the water together, where we can wash each other!” The normally
very reserved Paul, inherent shy inhibition overwhelmed by rampant unashamed
lust, lowered his hands to expose the extent of his eager excitement before
running to the young female warrior.
Holding hands, the youthful duo, full of acute mutual sexual anticipation, ran
into the pool and were soon frolicking, splashing each other’s nude forms with
the clear cool water amidst much joyous laughter. However, intense desire then
encouraged them to begin to wash each other’s marvellous bodies, removing the
accumulated semen, as well as some dust and sweat resulting from their long
ride and whilst looking forward to enjoying soon another type of lengthy ride.
“My name is Lea,” advised the girl as she began to rub her wet hands over
Paul’s glistening body. The boy’s cock became unashamedly vertical as her
gentle but intimate manual attentions were experienced all over his damp form,
penultimately at his lustrous rear curvature and virgin sphincter, before
concluding at his rigid member, now located just under the pool’s clear
surface. The young female warrior carefully rubbed her hands over the 15 years
old’s huge throbbing erection.
Paul closed his sensuous blue eyes, glazed through intense carnal desire, and
made a request that was opposite to the one he had asked for in the temple.
“Please stop,” he begged, “as you’ll make me cum!” However, Lea did not desist
and continued her rubbing. “Please stop!” pleaded the boy with an apparent
desperation not matched by any sign of physical resistance, and the stroking
proceeded to the inevitable denouement. The 15 years old’s body shuddered
uncontrollably and his sacred seed emerged like a newly forming milky cloud
into the water alongside his groin to accompanying low ecstatic moans.
When Paul’s fierce passion finally subsided again, he opened his eyes to see
the beautiful Lea smiling at him. “Your turn to wash me, Divine Pau,” she
informed the blushing boy, who was only too happy to confine quickly his
further embarrassment to history by obliging. However, the wondrous feel on
his hands of the girl’s dazzling form did not provide his cock with any peace
because it miraculously retained its fullest shape, despite having already
ejaculated four times within a few hours.
As Paul proceeded to caress Lea with his wet hands, he still believed he was
deep in some erotic dream, even though everything seemed so real, including
the feel of the girl’s delectable body and reciprocated touch. The boy’s rigid
penis was on the verge of exploding again when his manual manipulations
encased the female warrior’s breasts, and later when the attentions moved to
her bottom and finally her pubic hair and its hidden treasures. However, the
15 years old somehow managed to prevent himself from cumming until he
finished.
Both Paul and Lea, who had herself gained much pleasure from the boy’s gentle
handling of her body, recognised that it was now time for the 15 years old to
lose his virginity. Without speaking, they left the pool and lay, dripping
wet, on the surrounding grass. Their damp arms entwined each other, to explore
respective bodies further, whilst lips engaged in a lingering passionate kiss,
culminating with tongues in each other’s mouths.
Paul, now lying on top of Lea, eventually felt one of her hands grab his
erection again but this time, instead of stoking the throbbing member, she
cautiously guided it to where it now really wanted to be. The boy, as his
mouth moved to lick the girl’s nipples, felt his cockhead being introduced to
her vaginal entrance.
The young female warrior then challenged seductively “Well, Divine Pau, what
are you waiting for, or are you afraid of harming your saviour, Lea, with your
magnificent weapon?” Paul knew that the girl was teasing him again and so
rewarded her for her well-meaning effrontery by thrusting his red-hot iron bar
inside her.
Lea uttered a little squeal at the sudden intrusion that filled her to the
hilt, the utterance caused by a strange mixture of pain and pleasure. The
former was created because she was receiving inside her the biggest male rod
ever to invade her vagina, which was extending the crevasse’s walls to their
limits. However, the displeasing sensation was quickly subsumed by much
pleasanter feelings, as Paul’s thrusting became regular and vigorous. The boy
moved his lips backwards and forwards between the young woman’s breasts and
face as he ploughed remorselessly, like the young stallion he now was. The
delighted recipient of his attentions deliriously clawed his bottom with her
sharp nails when he brought her to several climaxes before his own eventually
arrived. The 15 years old raised his head upwards towards the deep blue sky
above and screamed “Yessssssssssssssss!” as he filled the young female warrior
with a flood of his sacred seed, bringing her to the height of another
unprecedentedly wonderful orgasm.
Paul collapsed on top of Lea in exhaustion after he had finished. They lay
there, with the boy’s still erect and throbbing cock inside the girl, for a
while, with the latter enjoying the continuing vibrations inside her until
they began to fade when the penis finally began to soften. The 15 years old
then carefully rolled off the young female warrior and closed his eyes,
expecting now to wake up in his bed at home, sporting a pair of soiled boxer
shorts.
Paul did indeed fall into a deep sleep for a period but, when he awoke, he
found himself still under the same strange sky, with a redressed Lea nearby.
“Well, Divine Pau,” she enquired, “what’s it like to be a virgin no more?” The
boy, still nude but with cock now flaccid, blushed and was considering his
answer when the girl, who did not expect a response as she regarded the
question to be rhetorical, continued. “You’ll be pleased to know, Divine Pau,”
she announced, with a not unkind smirk, “that I have cleaned your sacred seed
off my skirt. I also have some attire for you in my saddlebag. After you have
covered your nakedness, I shall give you the information you asked for
earlier.” The 15 years old had completely forgotten what he had requested, so
delighted and bemused had he been with what had subsequently occurred.
Lea removed from the saddlebag a skimpy red loincloth, emblazoned on the front
and back with the golden phallic insignia seen earlier throughout the temple,
along with a medallion, similar to those worn by the priests, displaying the
same symbol. She returned to where the beautiful Paul was regaining his feet
and gave the sparse garment and jewellery to him. The boy politely expressed
his thanks but, looking perplexed after examining the attire, then queried “Is
this all?” “Yes, Divine Pau,” was the answer, “these items are what the Great
Kaluuth commands should be your only wear as you are pursued.”
“Pursued,” Paul responded, his increased puzzlement and concern obvious, “what
do you mean by pursued?” “Put the garment on, Divine Pau,” replied Lea, “and
come to sit next to me at the edge of the pool, where I’ll tell you.” The boy,
who had momentarily forgotten his nudity, rushed to comply, now again shyly
wanting to hide his newly re-proportioned genitals from the girl’s stare.
However, he at first encountered difficulty in fitting the splendid size, even
in their current flaccid state, of his sexual organs inside the tiny red
thong, which comprised the loincloth’s integral undergarment, succeeding only
after an embarrassing struggle that caused the amused young female spectator
to titter.
Paul eventually finished his task and, red-faced through abashment, advanced
to sit on the grass next to Lea at the water’s edge. “Look, Divine Pau,”
instructed the girl, pointing downwards into the pool, “and see your new
visage!” The boy complied and now noticed that the beautiful young male face
reflected back into his eyes did not seem to belong to him. He peered around
to see whom the gorgeous youth could be until finally realising that the
perfect features did now truly pertain to himself.
Paul returned his eyes to his reflection and began to feel his own changed
face with his hands in disbelief. The boy also rubbed between his fingers the
golden silk-like substance that purported to be his hair before declaring
“It’s not true. All this is just a dream!” Lea inserted her hand under the
rear of 15 years old’s loincloth in response and the lad suddenly jumped when
he experienced an anguished moment as his bottom was pinched.
“Please forgive, Divine Pau, but I had to show you that this is no dream,” Lea
apologised to Paul, startled at the very realistic pain he had just felt, “and
that this is truly your new existence. Look again into the pool!” The boy did
so but this time his new face did not form the reflection. Instead his old
self, unconscious on a hospital bed with his mother sitting to the side,
appeared. The girl continued “The Great God Kaluuth has granted your wish,
Divine Pau, to attempt to become a hero. He has brought your life spirit here
from the now soulless body that you inhabited elsewhere and instilled the
essence into a more appropriate form.”
Paul, still a little sceptical at the reality of his situation, commented, as
he looked down at his smooth lean young body, “But I always thought a hero
would be more, er, manly.” Lea reached forward and lifted the boy’s front
loincloth flap with one hand before then running her other over the large
outline of his genitalia, hidden under its sparse thong cover, to create some
instant growth. “You have been endowed, Divine Pau,” she announced. “with
sexual organs that would shame many gods, and with beauty to match. You are
the most lovely boy to have ever drawn a breath in this world, your body
having been afforded particular perfection, better even than that of your
twelve predecessors, for the singular purpose for which it was created.”
“And what is that?” Paul asked, now unsure whether he really wanted to know.
“You were created to cum, Divine Pau,” Lea whispered, an enigmatic smile
appearing on her beautiful face.
“I don’t understand. You mean…” Paul began to respond but his words were
interrupted by Lea. “Your body is that of a boy, Divine Pau,” she advised,
“but you are more than that, much more. Your essence did not originally
inhabit this splendid human vessel and only the gods can instil consciousness
into the soulless. The Great Kaluuth has brought your spirit into the worldly
physical form of the son of the God of Desire, Seporr, and the Goddess of
Love, Zamanna, and because of that, your seed has unique unrivalled potency
that can bring forth very special life, as well as unchallengable supremacy.”
“But can’t all cum…” Paul tried to reply before again being cut short by Lea.
“Divine Pau, this world is known as Lamorrah. It was created when Seporr, a
mere minor god, had the audacity to seduce the great Goddess of Death. From
her womb, was brought forth this world, which has been dominated by those who
would inflict much terrible destruction, suffering, pain and doom on others,
especially the good and innocent. Only the product of the genitals of the son
of the God of Desire and Goddess of Love can prevent such Armageddon and
instead restore the world and its inhabitants to peaceful and contented
vitality. Twelve other godlings such as yourself have tried to fulfil this
commission and failed. Divine Pau, you are the thirteenth and last divine boy
charged with trying to save this world from unspeakable wickedness.”
“Me?” asked a startled Paul. “Yes, Divine Pau” Lea responded, “you are the
final one, the last ever for this world. Your actions will decide Lamorrah’s
ultimate fate. ” “What happened to the others who failed?” enquired the now
very concerned boy. “The same that, I’m afraid, might very well happen to you,
Divine Pau,” was the unwanted answer, “because the sacred seed of such as you
is not just a source of life and renewal, it is a potential source of
unparalleled power for the evil ones. When mixed with your ground testicles or
penis, it would form the main fundamental ingredient of a magical elixir that,
when consumed, would bestow upon the recipient unrivalled might and
immortality, although previously only until the next son of Seporr and Zamanna
came to challenge such supremacy. However, after you, there will be no more
divine sons. Many vile intelligences that live here are aware of your arrival
and will be pursuing you in order to make the potion, which cannot of course,
after your emasculation, be reproduced subsequently by rivals.”
“I don’t want to be here,” exclaimed a now frightened Paul, still viewing the
heart rendering reflection and finally beginning to realise that he was not
dreaming, “I want to be at home with mom.” “Too late,” Lea’s voice replied,
“the Great Kaluuth has chosen you to fulfil this sacred role.”
The tremulous Paul contemplated this answer for a while before asking “What
precisely is it that he wants of me?” “That you must discover on your own,”
the girl’s voice responded, “as I’m not permitted to tell you. All I can say
is that before you achieve your desired destiny, if indeed you do, you will
have to cross many other plains and overcome many perilous challenges and
difficulties. If you fall into trouble, I’m afraid that I shall not be there
to aid you. I am but a humble servant of Kaluuth and the greatest God has two
faces, one good and one evil. Your success will satisfy one and your death the
other. From this moment on, he will watch your progress with great interest
but he will not interfere. From this moment on, your fate is therefore in
mortal hands. However, I can advise you of this. Danger lurks everywhere but
the peril is gravest to the south in the domain of the Black Queen. Her
cruelty is beyond all measure. Avoid her realm and you might yet succeed to
become a true supreme hero as opposed to a sad powerless eunuch or worse!”
Paul, with tears of trepidation forming in his now blue eyes, looked at where
Lea lay, proposing to continue his entreaties, but the girl had disappeared,
as had her horse. The boy stood up and peered around but all he could see were
the yellow sand and purple rocks of the vast plain. The 15 years old had been
left alone to face the regular threats to his boyhood that were to come from
the various base peoples and creatures that helped to share with him his new
world, which he now finally accepted as truly real.
Paul pondered for a while, mulling over his options. The boy considered the
pleasures he had just experienced and the dangers he now faced. The thoughts
eventually caused his cock to begin to stir within the confines of its skimpy
but taut cover. The 15 years old had now recognised that he had no option but
to confront the Great Kaluuth’s challenge to become a hero, and the prospect
of very dangerous but potentially thrilling adventures and chases ahead began
to arouse his new and very substantial libido.
Paul, finally appreciating that he was truly now ‘Pau’, chose a direction to
take, which, for all he knew, could have been leading him away from where he
needed to travel and into grievous peril. However, he somehow instinctively
appreciated that it was the right way.
The now dazzling boy, with a notable bulge at the front of his sparse
loincloth, boldly and excitedly advanced towards his destiny, and that of
Lamorrah, in the direction of the red sun, apparently at its zenith, across
the immense yellow and purple plain.
(To be continued in chapter 3 – ‘Distractions’)
* * * |
Basement Bitch | WARNING, BI, TESTICLES, Body mods; piss play | When Jackie finds her husbands interest in being a slave more fun than he does...he doesn't find it fun at all! | "I'm telling you Connie...I've never been happier, now that I keep Joe in the
basement!"
"You.....look happy, Jackie" conne replied...
"I've heard rumors... about you an' Joe...is it true, he's your sex slave?"
"You should come down and see" Jackie giggled...
"I heard you had a pretty nasty divorce...and you're not real crazy about men
in general now...you might want to let off a little steam downstairs
sometime!!"
At the botton of the basement steps, the girls stopped at a heavy steel door.
there wre 4 deadlocks on it,all with seperate keys.
"You afraid he'll get out?' Connie teased...
"Actually" Jackie said
"When he hears these keys in the door..he knows he's in for another session
and he starts getting nervous!!"
Inside, the ordinary basement was now a neatly painted and lit dungeon. There
were two tables, wooden stocks and racks, chains hanging from the ceiling and
walls...and Connie blushed at the sight of dildos and plugs laying on the
counters.
"you...use all this stuff?" Connie asked...
"Well" Jackie chuckled...
"Not the small stuff anymore....I've got Joe up to a pretty big butt
plug...and I never use anything smaller than 12 inches to fuck him with!"
In the middle of the room hung Joe...he was only 36, and a fine figure of a
man...almost 6', about 190, and a very nice cock and balls. He was stretched
taut, spread eagled and tied standing between two wooden posts. His arms were
out straight at his sides, to eliminate pulling himself up, and he was
mounted...on a black 12 inch dildo, on top of a pole set in the floor.
There was esily 9 or 10 inches of the dildo, in his ass...he twisted and tried
to adjust to it inside him.
"Oh. would you look at that!" Jackie said....
She approached her gagged husband, and thats when he saw Connie there! Joe
blushed and tried to grunt in protest but Jackie just smiled!
"You're flat on the floor!" Jackie said.....
"Looks like you need some more cock in your ass!!"
Jackie twisted a lock on the pole, supporting the dildo in Joes ass...and
raised it, poking it deeper into his body! Joe scrunched his eyes and grunted
in protest...then raised back up onto his tiptoes trying to evade the cock
stabbing into his guts!
"you're barely up to 10 inches...you're going to have to take all 12 befre I
release you!"
Tears filled Joes eys but Jackie ignored them.
"He's been there for hours!" Jackie explained...'
"I just can't get him to open up and take that last two inches!!"
"HE....can take 12 inches of cock into his ass?!" Connie asked in disbelief!
"Well" Jackie said..
"The skinnier one, once...but he's nver taken anything that big
before..still..he will, even if he has to stand there till morning!
"He looks pretty tired' Connie said.
"Yeah, maybe I can waken up his senses a bit" Jackie said.
Jackie placed a parachute on his balls...and hung two one pound weights from
Joes nuts! Joe groaned loudly and began to cry! Next Jackie added nipple
clamps, and clothespins on Joes ear lobes, one on the middle of his nose, and
several dirctly onto his toes!
Joe was sweating and trembing now...pain was coming from all over! Jackie
watched him beg with his eyes a minute, then laid a hand on his empty tummy.
"Thirsty?" she asked with anevil grin.
It didn't matter what he answered if he could...he knew what was coming next!
"You...by any chance...have to pee?" Jackie asked Connie!
The look of horror on Joes face...told Connie that she did!
connie handed Jackie almost a quart of her fresh piss a second later...in a
clear glass pitcher, so that Joe could see it! Jackie poured it into an enema
bag and hung it over Joes head. Joe was shaking his head...pleading with
grunts and groans "NO!"
Jackie stuck the nozzle into her slaves gag, and watched Joe helplessly start
to swallow!!
"OH!...Thats just nasty!" Connie laughed...
"I've been holding that all day!!"
"Well, he'll be holding it all night, he only gets to pee once a day...in the
morning, after he drinks My pee!!"
Joe was trying desperately to settle down on the giant dildo in his ass, but
every time he relaxed his toes and took another inch..he jerked sharply back
up!
SO?...what about..sex?" connie then asked...
"For him?"
"He hasn't cum in weeks...I play with him, get him hard now and then, and
right when those big 'ol balls tighten up, I just stop, and watch him cry like
a baby!"
"I meant...for you!" connie asked...
"Oh, I get mine" Jackie replied...
"Mr. Ross,down the street, that divorced banker, he fucks me a couple times a
week, and that 17 year old kid that delivers the groceries?...fucks like a
rabbit...and the sweetest cum I ever tasted!"
"You fuck upstairs while he's tied up down here?" connie laughed...
"Upstairs?...NO!.we do it rght here...in front of him!!..I make him watch his
wife fuckin' and suckin', his poor cock gets so hard I think it'll explode...
and then he cleans up my pussy with his tongue, and thank my guys for fucking
me!...that grocery kid?...him and several of his friends come over on the
weekend, for free slave blowjobs!!"
When the enema bag was empty, connie laid a hand on Joes sweaty, bulging and
grumbling belly!
"Thats MY piss in there!" she gggled!
Connie took Joes cock in her hand and staarted stroking him. He closed his
eyes and tried to imagine she might actually let him cum! Connie looked at a
picture of joes cock erect on the wall...it had a circle around it and a line
thru it indicating his erections were not allowed!!
"You're ready, aren't you?" she teased! Joe nodded weakly...looked at his wife
watching him, then at Conne hands on his erection!
"This is a beautifull cock" Connie whispered...
"And I haven't been fucked for so long...do you want to fuck me?...pound this
big hard cock into my pussy until I scream?....fill me up with your hot cum,
and make me lick you clean afterwards?"
Joe was in both mental and physical agony now! The weights on his balls was
increased to by another 1/2 pound, bt he still thought he could cum!
"I'll let you cum baby..." connie then said...
"But it'll cost you.....I want your balls!....you don't need them and as a
slave you shouldn't have them anyway!"
Connie looked at Jackie, and asked...
"Have you ever thought of castrating him?...making him officially your little
bitch?"
"What a great idea!" Jackie agreed, and Joe screamed thru his gag in protest!
"I'm gonna give you 5 minutes to think about it"Connie said...
"If you agree to let me and Jackie cut your nuts off...just cum...it'll be
your last time...if you don't wanna lose 'em....all you have to do..is don't
cum!!"
connie picked up the pace of her hand around Joes erection, and she knew, he'd
never last 5 more minutes!!
within a minute, Joe was losing it! He was throbbing and grunting wildly, he
hadn't cum in so long...and now he was fighting not to!
"I think he's made up his mind!" connie laughed!
Joe was sobbing, and shaking his head NO! Connie stroked faster, reminding him
NOt to cum if he wanted to save his balls!!
Finally,Joes body gave out...his legs were too tired to hold him up any longer
and the last two inches of rubber cock stabbed into his ass!! He groaned in
agony...and at the same time...he began to cum!!
"OH YEAH!...come on stud!...empty those nuts!..gimme your cum!...for the last
time...CUM!..CUM!....thats it!...CUM!" Connie ordered!
In tears, Joes cock betrayed him and he erupted thick globs all over Connies
hands!
When he was done. conne wiped Joes cum all over his sweaty face and lips!!
"YOU eat it!...it's YOURS!!' she laughed!
Jackie watched in pleasant shock! She lost all control then, and succumed to a
long repressed desire..she walked over to connie and sealed her lips to her in
a long wet kiss!!
"I think I love you!!" Jackie joked...and she was even more shocked...when
Connie replied...
"I've been wanting to do that for a long time!...I've always had the hots for
you!!"
"So...what abou his balls?" Connie asked.
"They're YOURS!....if you move in here and help me torture him!"
The two women fell to the floor and made love to each other for almost an hour
while Joe hung there and watched! Dildoes, vibrators, ben wa balls, were all
used and scattered all over the floor!
When they had caught their breath, connie whispered something in Jackes ear.
Jackie stared at Joe, then back to connie.
"OK" was all Jackie said, with a big grin on her face!
"you're going to keep your balls..for another few weeks, only so we can abuse
them..." connie said to Joe.
"We're going to slap them, pound on them, play ping pong with them, stretch
them to the floor, dip them in hot wax, cook them in hot oil, roast them over
a barbecue, stab them with needles, nails, and skewers dipped in everything
from Ben Gay to gasoline...We're going to inject them, with toothpste, dish
soap, mustard and hot sauce, jalapeno pepper juice, with as much cum as we can
collect from the neighborhood, fill them full of piss until they're as big as
footballs...then pound then into mush, and all of this...will happed BEFORE we
cut 'em off so you can suffer the worst pain you have ever felt!'
Joe was almost hysterical by then...but staring at Jackie showed no relief in
her eyes!
"For now" Connie added...
"I'm going to take your wife upstairs and continue making love to her...I need
to know one thing...that you're down here....suffering in agony while I do
it!"
Connie removed the parachute and weights from Joes balls and he cried...from
relief!! Connie gave the sore orbs a minute to tighten back upwards, then she
stepped back and slammed her foot into Joes balls with all her strength!
Joes mind and body exploded with the most pain he'd ever felt!! He screamed,
he cried, his body went limp, and the dildo in his ass bored another inch into
his guts!!
"I'VE ALWAYS WANTED TO DO THAT!!" connie laughed.
te second joe was able to raise his head...Connie planted her knee into his
now swollen balls and Joe passed out!!
"No cheating!" connie laughed.
she brought him around, and replaced the parachute and a small plastic pail
full of her piss on his nuts!
"you're gonna drink that when i get back...till then remember...those balls
are mine now. and I'm gonna have alot of fun with 'em before you BEG me to cut
'em off, and watch you chew them up and eat them...RAW!"
fedback and ideas always welcome. some of my old stories have an old adress on
them, this ones new, 5/09 thanks for reading!
[email protected]
* * * |
Eine einfache und wirksame Therapie Malte und Sven | TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION, MINOR | Masturbation is an desaes. Get a load of sperms and freeze them deep, it will last to fertilize a whole city. Than cut the balls off, they just waist the time of a young man. | Eine einfache und wirksame Therapie
Copyright 2007 Dominik Bell
Der Anruf kam aus der Schule. Eva Eckholm saß im Labor und analysierte den
Hormongehalt von vierzig Blutproben. Eine Studie die untersuchte den
Zusammenhang hormoneller Geschehnisse auf Kinder und Jugendliche mit ADHS.
Eigentlich hätte sie an dieser Studie nicht mitarbeiten dürfen. Als Mutter
eines betroffenen Sohnes war sie viel zu sehr involviert.
Es gelang ihr nur schwer sich vom Mikroskop zu lösen. Zu oft hatte sie schon
wegen Malte die bitterlichen Klagen von den Lehrern anhören müssen. Seit zwei
Jahren war sie im Akademischen Austausch an der Charite in Berlin. Zwei Jahre
Tortur mit dem deutschen Bildungssystem das so gar nicht mit dem was sie aus
ihrer Heimat in Schweden kannte, konkurrieren konnte. Wenn irgendetwas nicht
klappt, schwierig oder aufwendig ist, dann sind die Kinder, oder deren Eltern
schuld. Tun zu wenig, sind nicht bemüht oder eben krank oder sozial. Eine
Kooperation zwischen Pädagogen und Eltern, gegenseitige Unterstützung und die
Bereitschaft auch nur die Zielstellungen der Einzelnen gegenseitig abzuklären
und zu respektieren gibt es nicht. Noch ein Jahr und sie wäre wieder in
Stockholm wo ihr Malte mit seiner besonderen Art zu sein viel besser
aufgehoben wäre. Hier hatte er eine Diagnose bekommen ADHS.
Am Telefon dann die vorwurfsvolle Stimme der Direktorin. „Ihr Sohn hat..“
Diese Leier kannte sie schon. Aber diesmal war es wirklich zuviel. Nicht ein
Wort der Vorbereitung, eine Mitfühlende Sequenz oder vielleicht eine
Entschuldigung dass die Aufsicht versagt hat. Nein. „Ihr Sohn hat wieder
einmal verbotener Weise auf dem Geländer gerutscht. Jetzt ist er im
Krankenhaus. Sie können ihn dort besuchen. Es ist nichts gebrochen,
wahrscheinlich nicht wirklich was Schlimmes. Fragen sie in der Notaufnahme und
teilen Sie uns mit wie lange er am Unterricht nicht teilnehmen kann.“ Erst auf
mehrfaches Nachfragen beantwortete die Rektorin die Fragen nach dem Wie und
Warum.
In dem imposantent Schulgebäude aus dem frühen 19. Jahrhundert gab es
Handläufe an den Treppen, dick wie ein Männerarm und aus Eiche, vom Schweiß
und Fett Tausender Schülerhände glatt geschliffen und poliert. Am Ende jedes
Treppenabsatzes eine große schwere Kugel, dreißig Zentimeter im Durchmesser.
Die richtigen Stopper, wenn ein Schüler, verbotener Weise, mit zu viel Schwung
den Handlauf herunterrutschte. Zwischen den Geschossen gab es Langnetze die
alles festhalten sollten was so in einem Schultreppenhaus herum fliegt. Dann
und wann landete schon einmal ein Schüler darin und dann gab es immer einen
reisen Zoff mit der Schulleitung. An diesem Tag fehlte eine dieser Kugeln. Der
Hausmeister hatte sie abgebaut um sie neu zu lackieren. So stand am Ende des
Handlaufs nur eine kleine Gewindestange nach oben die notdürftig mit einem
kleinen Styroporball geschützt war. Malte war einfach rücklinks darüber
gerauscht und wurde erst an der gegenüberliegenden Wand aufgefangen. Im
Krankenhaus hatten sie dann festgestellt das sein Schritt vom Anus bis zum
Penis aufgeschlitzt war und beide Hoden nicht mehr zu retten sein würden.
Eva Eckholm kannte den Weg zur Notaufnahme schon denn Malte war ein
Unfallkind. Es geschah regelmäßig dass er sich verletzte. Meistens sah es viel
schlimmer aus als es war und die Leute schickten halt immer gleich einen
Krankenwagen obwohl man mit Ruhe und etwas Verbandszeug vieles selber richten
kann.
Diesmal war es anders. Malte hatte sich kastriert. Sogar der Penis war
zerfetzt und die Ärzte waren froh als die Mutter zustimmte die Versuche einer
notdürftigen Rekonstruktion einzustellen. Sie vernähten die Wunde und zogen
die Harnröhre soweit wie möglich nach unten zwischen die Beine. Zwei Wochen
später konnte Malte wieder am Sport teilnehmen. Seine Mutter kannte da kein
Pardon. Maltes kleiner Bruder Sven war auch ein sehr unruhiges Kind und hatte
aus diesem Grund viele Probleme. Nicht nur in der Schule, sondern auch mit
anderen Kindern und vor allem aber Erwachsenen. Eva Eckholm war an manchen
Tagen froh an der Arbeit sitzen zu dürfen während ihr Aupair zu Hause graue
Haare bekam. Ritalin half zwar Sven ruhig zu stellen, aber dann empfand sie
doch sehr oft das es nicht mehr ihr Kind sei dass da so vor sich hindämmerte
und vermisste seine Lachen und alles was Sven ausmachte.
Seit dem Unfall bekam Malte Medikamente die er aber nicht sonderlich gut
vertrug. Deshalb entschloss sich Eva ihm ein Medikament zu geben das die
Wachstumsphase von Maltes Körper beenden sollte um ihn dann mit mehr oder
weniger Testosteron stabil einzustellen. Er wäre sicherlich noch etwas
gewachsen, aber die Nebenwirkungen waren einfach zu schlimm. Nach wenigen
Wochen war Malte wie ausgewechselt. Seine Hyperaktivität war nicht mehr
beobachtbar, sein Sozialverhalten, dass ohnehin nicht ganz so problematisch
war wie das von Sven verbesserte sich um Potenzen und in der Schule brachte er
nur noch beste Noten. Ab und zu hatte er leichte Depressionen die aber mit
einer kräftigen Dosis Johanniskraut und einem Medikament für die wenigen
akuten Phasen gut zu bewältigen war. Malte wurde sechzehn und entschied zu
seinem Vater nach Stockholm zugehen als Eva das Angebot ihren Vertrag zu
verlängern nicht abschlagen konnte. Am elften Geburtstag von Sven strich die
vierte Aupair in diesem Jahr die Segel.
Eva war verzweifelt und froh, dass Malte und ihr Ex-Mann für einige Tage in
Berlin waren. Eva lebte zwar schon lange getrennt hatte aber ein gutes
Verhältnis zu ihrem Ex der sich immer wenn er konnte gut um die Kinder
kümmerte. Eines Abends bei einem, oder war es das X. Glas Wein vor dem Kamin
meinte Skjell, ihr Ex, dass die Entwicklung von Malte wohl geradezu
märchenhaft sei. Er hatte inzwischen eine Ausbildung begonnen und machte super
Fortschritte. Dazu sah er gut aus und kam bei beiden Geschlechtern gut an. Um
seine fehlenden Geschlechtsteile wussten seine engsten Freunde und
akzeptierten ihn als Nullo. Dann und wann gab es sogar Mädchen die sich für
ihn als Mensch näher interessierten und sich Partnerschaft auch ohne Penissex
vorstellen konnten. Eine Krise hatte Malte zu einer Psychotherapeutin geführt
die er aber schon nach wenigen Sitzungen nicht mehr brauchte. Er kannte zwar
keinen anderen Nullo, hatte für sich eine Identität gefunden die ihn
befriedigte.
Indirekt führte Skjell, der wohl auch unter dem ADHS Syndrom gelitten hatte
und immer noch litt, das auf die Kastration zurück. Irgendwie musste da ein
Zusammenhang sein. Skjell war Neurologe und wusste von den Studien die Eva in
Berlin machte. In Eva erwachte ein Gedanke, den sie sich aber sofort selbst
verbot als sie wieder nüchtern war. Sie weiß um die Beschränktheit der
medizinischen Forschung. Es geht nur um Geld. Wirksamkeit von Medikamenten
musste nachgewiesen werden. Von teuren Medikamenten. Egal wievielen Menschen
diese Medizin dann in der Praxis hilft. Sie macht sich für den Produzenten
meist schon bezahlt wenn sie nur bei jedem dritten Patienten probehalber für
einen gewissen Zeitraum angewandt wird. Wirksamkeit die oftmals auf Grund der
gezielten Auswahl von Probanten sichergestellt wird.
Schon am nächsten Abend war Skjell wieder beim Thema. Malte sprach nicht gern
über sich. Er war mehr nach innen gekehrt und brauchte die Aufmerksamkeit der
Anderen weniger als es früher der Fall war. Seine immer währende
Selbstinszenierung war einer selbstsicheren und kritikfähigen Persönlichkeit
gewichen. Etwas ungelenk und mit zuviel Alkohol im Blut sprach Skjell Malte
dann völlig unvermittelt auf das Thema an, als Malte sich in der Küche etwas
zu essen machte um dann wieder vor dem Fernseher verschwinden zu wollen. Trotz
des unglücklichen Moments und der Tatsache, dass seine Eltern nicht mehr
nüchtern waren setzte er sich sogleich zu ihnen und erzählte wie er die
letzten Jahre erlebt hatte. Davon, dass er unter seiner Hyperaltivität total
gelitten hatte, dass er gerne Freunde gehabt hätte dies aber wirklich nicht
erreichen konnte, sowie ihn sein Versagen in der Schule unheimlich belastet
habe. Nach dem Unfall sei dann alles ganz anders und wesentlich leichter
geworden. Heute im Blick zurück würde er sogar den Rollstuhl wählen wenn er
die Wahl hätte so wie früher sein zu müssen oder ... . Offen gab er zu vor dem
Unfall Augenblicke der Verzweiflung empfunden zu haben die ihn an Selbstmord
haben denken lassen. Seine depressiven Episoden von Heute seien dagegen so
unterschiedlich wie Wind und Orkan. Zudem könne er jetzt mit Anderen auch
darüber sprechen, sein Medikament nehmen und dazu wüsste er, dass es eine
Folge der Kastration sei manchmal eben etwas neben der Kappe zu sein.
Und dann schob er noch nach, dass er sich schon einige Male gedacht hätte,
dass es für Sven wohl auch das Beste wäre wenn ihm so etwas passieren würde.
Eva war ganz nachdenklich geworden und als sie sich Wein nachschenkte merkte
sie lange nicht dass sie den Wein neben das Glas schüttete. Sven flitzte
gerade an der Tür vorbei um in der Werbung schnell noch ein Packung Chips zu
holen als er die Versammlung im Wohnzimmer sah. Mit dem Putzlappen in der Hand
tauchte er im Türrahmen auf und fragte „iss was?“ um herauszufinden welche
schwierigen Themen hier gerade beratschlagt wurden.
Skjell fing dann an mit:“Du Sven, du weißt doch, dass Malte diesen Unfall
hatte?“ „Ja klar, der ist jetzt ein Eunuch, da redet heute noch die ganze
Schule davon.“ „Was ist eigentlich ein Eunuch?“ „Ich meine ich weiß ja, so
ohne Pimmel, aber früher hatten die sie doch auch schon, so ganz ohne Unfall,
so voll mit Absicht meine ich,oder?“ „Gibts die heute auch noch?“ Und fast
ohne auf die Antwort zu warten flitzte Sven in die Küche und holte die
Chipstüte. „Kann ich auch mal?“ fragte Sven und griff nach dem Weinglas in
Skjells Hand. Und an Stellen wo Skjell normalerweise unüberwindliche Grenzen
setzt gab er auf einmal nach. „Klar, trink nur,“ und im nächsten Atemzug bot
er Malte auch ein Glas an, obwohl er wusste dass Malte niemals trank. Der
lehnte dann auch dankend ab. Sven hingegen schien der Wein zu schmecken und es
waren keine drei Schluck da war das Glas leer. Er setzte sich zu seiner Mutter
auf den Schoß, was er gerne machte, aber meist nicht länger als 30 Sekunden
aushielt. Jetzt blieb er schon länger als zwei Minuten dort und legte sogar
seine Arme um Evas Hals um sich wie ein viel zu großes Baby an sie zu
schmiegen. Malte erklärte Sven, dass sie gerade über seine Veränderungen seit
dem Unfall gesprochen haben. Sven hatte nur noch eine vage Erinnerung an die
Zeit davor. Nur, dass Malte sich oft verletzt hatte, dass war ihm noch sehr
präsent. Als Skjell merkte wie der Wein auf Sven wirkte hatte er keine
Bedenken als dieser auch noch etwas haben wollte als Eva sich etwas nach goss.
Sie hatte die ganze Zeit nur zugehört und es erschien ihr der ungeheuerliche
Gedanke, Sven auf die gleiche Weise zu helfen wie es bei Malte dann
letztendlich geworden ist.
Malte fuhr fort zu erzählen was er vorher schon erzählt hatte, betonte aber
immer wieder seine Sicht und wie er gelitten hatte. Insbesondere unter der
Tatsache dass er keine Freunde hatte und wie sehr ihn es gekränkt hatte von
allen immer zurecht- und zurückgewiesen zu werden. Nach dem zweiten, nur halb
eingeschenkten Glas Wein nahm Sven die Chipstüte und verschwand Richtung
Gästezimmer in dem der Fernseher noch lief, so schnell und unvermittelt wie er
gekommen war.
Dann erzählte Skjell, das es in seiner Kindheit ebenso turbulent zugegangen
wäre wie bei Sven und Malte, weil aber ADHS noch nicht erfunden war, er als
nichtsnutziger Rotzer abgestempelt wurde und für sein Verhalten viele Schläge
bekommen hätte. Nur zwei oder drei Erwachsene hätten zu ihm gehalten und ihm
immer wieder den Rücken gestärkt. Das war der blöde Tom, der nach vielen
Jahren in der Psychiatrie wieder auf sein Dorf entlassen wurde und 95% seiner
zeit in einer Art Dämmerzustand verbrachte, Michel der Säufer aus dem Dorf der
mal früher ein Erfinder war dem es aber nie gelang auf einen grünen Zweig zu
kommen (er soll seinen Schnaps irgendwo im Wald selbst gebrannt haben, den
besten vom Dorf übrigens) und dann war da sein Vater der Dorfvorsteher,
Unternehmer, Landwirt und Advokat war und leider viel zu früh durch einen
Autounfall aus dem Leben gerissen wurde. Der Vater war es aber auch dem oft
der Geduldsfaden riss und der Skjell die meisten Prügel ausgeteilt hat.
Skell fuhr fort, dass seine Probleme mit der Jugend nicht aufhörten, und seine
vielen Jobwechsel ganz klar eine ähnliche Ursache haben wie sein Versagen in
der Schule. Erst als er als Erwachsener das Abitur nachholte und Medizin
studierte kam sein Leben in eine ruhigere Bahn die aber auch mit einem
wachsenden und regelmäßigen Alkoholkonsum ein herging. Heute würde er jeden
Abend zu viel trinken und eigentlich sei er verwundert dass es ihm noch so gut
dabei ginge. Malte hatte aufmerksam zugehört und wusste aus den Monaten die er
jetzt mit seinem Vater zusammenlebte dass dieser eine besondere Art von
Alkoholiker sein musste. Skell trank jeden Abend ab sechs Uhr ununterbrochen
bis er ins Bett ging. Am nächsten Morgen war er ausgeschlafen, fröhlich und
voller Tatendrang. Wenn er einmal nicht zum trinken kam, weil er bis spät
unterwegs war zum Beispiel, war Skjell am nächsten Morgen nur schwer wach zu
bekommen. Dazu war er schlecht gelaunt bis aggressiv. So war malte es
eigentlich lieber Skjell trank abends, denn ihm fiel am Abend kein Unterschied
auf ob er trank oder nicht.
Es war halb zwölf nachts als das Feuer niedergebrannt war und alle eigentlich
ins Bett gehen wollten. Eva musste nächsten Tag arbeiten und Skjell wollte mit
den Kindern die Herbstferien nutzen und einen Ausflug nach Dresden machen. Eva
hatte Karten besorgt für die Semperoper und würde mit dem Zug nach der Arbeit
zu ihnen stoßen. Da stand Sven wieder in der Tür. Die Chipstüte war zerknüllt
in seiner Hand und er sah ziemlich nachdenklich aus. Dann sah er Malte an, den
er, seit Malte in Stockholm wohnt wahnsinnig vermisst und sagte: „Malte, ich
wäre gerne wie du. Du bist mein großes Vorbild.“ Dann verschwand er in der
Küche und huschte nur noch einmal an der Türöffnung vorbei um in seinem Zimmer
zu verschwinden. Als Eva später zu ihm ging um ihn zu zudecken und einen
Gutenachtkuss zu geben merkte sie dass Svens Kopfkissen nass von seinen Tränen
war. Sven stellte sich aber schlafend und so akzeptierte Eva, dass er jetzt
nichts mehr sagen wollte, machte das Licht aus und ging in ihr Zimmer.
Der nächste Tag verlief unbeschwert und voller neuer Eindrücke. Am Abend gab
es Hänsel und Gretel als Oper und es war für alle ein super Tag, auch wenn Eva
bis halb fünf in Berlin bleiben musste. Um halb eins fielen alle in ihre
Betten.
Am nächsten Tag war Skjell ungenießbar. Muffelig, unausgeschlafen mit einem
deutlich spürbaren Hang zu jenem Jähzorn den die Ehe von Eva und Skjell
zerstört hatte. Eigentlich mochte Skjell sich selbst nicht, kam aber auch nur
schwer und langsam aus dieser Stimmung heraus. Malte und Sven machten allein
Berlin unsicher und hatten den ganzen Tag viel Spaß. Weil es am nächsten Tag
regnen sollte überlegte Skjell sich nochmal ein besonderes Ferienprogramm. Bei
Sixt hatte er einen Porsche gemietet und fuhr mit den Kindern nach Hamburg ins
Miniwunderland. Leider war kein Kilometer der Straße trocken genug um den
Sechszylinder mal so richtig zum Kochen zu bringen aber dafür kochte Skalpell
als Sven von einer Aufsicht dem MIWULA dabei erwischt wurde dass er aktiv bei
der Gestaltung der Anlagen eingriff. Sven war mal wieder ausser RanStrasseBand
und als die drei SechzylinderTür des MIWULA standen und es in Strömen goss
brach Sven in Tränen aus und schluchzte dass er nie mehr Schuld sein wolle und
er sich ja auch überhaupt nicht mehr mögen würde. Dann riss er sich von der
Hand Skjells los und rannte auf das Hafenbecken zu um sich hinein zustürzen.
Vorher erfasste ihn aber ein vorbeifahrendes Taxi und schleuderte zurück auf
den Bürgersteig wo er heulend und sich das Knie reibend sitzen blieb. Auf der
Rückfahrt hatte sich Sven halbwegs erholt und war zu einem normalen Gespräch
fähig.
Irgendwann schlug Malte vor:“Lass dir doch auch die Dinger abschneiden, dann
geht’s dir bestimmt besser.“ Sven bekam große Augen und fragte ungläubig.“
Meinste das geht? Das kann man doch nicht einfach so machen?“ Skjell meinte
nur: „Wenns hilft.“ und gab vor sich auf die Straße zu konzentrieren. „Ich
vermisse nichts,“meinte Malte, „bis auf manchmal, wenn die Klos so vollgepisst
sind das ich mich nicht draufsetzten mag. Aber den Schniedel, den kannst du ja
dranbehalten. Da hast du es bestimmt auch einfacher mit den Mädchen. Bei mir
ist das schon immer so ein Ding. Manche wollen einfach nur mal gucken und
dafür tun sie dann so als ob..“
Die nächsten zehn Minuten war nur der Boxer im Heck zu hören. Sven lag quer
zur Fahrtrichtung auf dem Notsitz und schien eingeschlafen zu sein. Dann
plötzlich rief er : „Papa ich will das, ich will auch so sein wie Malte.“
Skjell trat vor Schreck auf die Bremse und fuhr auf die rechte Spur und dort
nur mit 80. Er stellte sich den Spiegel so dass es Sven gut sehen konnte und
fragte:“Willst das wirklich?“ “Ja, Papa bitte, du willst doch dass es mir
besser geht.“ „Ja Sven, ich möchte das es dir gut geht, deshalb bin ich jetzt
nicht gleich dafür. So ein Eingriff hat seine Folgen. Das kann man nicht
einfach so entscheiden. Und Eva hat da auch noch ganz viel mitzureden.“ Den
Rest der Fahrt ging es nur noch darum und malte machte sich zum Anwalt seines
kleinen Bruders und Skjell war froh als er das Auto bei der Autovermietung
zurückgeben konnte und für einen Moment Menschen um sich hatte die irgendwie
normal erschienen.
Sich hatte er insgeheim mit dem Gedanken gespielt und sich dabei gefragt ob
sich die Entwicklung von Malte wiederholen lassen würde. Aber konkret einen
solchen Schritt zu machen, dass war doch etwas ganz anderes. Jetzt war es raus
und Malte und Sven waren kaum zur Tür herein als sie Eva mit ihrer Forderung
nach Svens sofortiger Kastration konfrontierten. Eva, blieb da ganz gelassen
und meinte nur, dass es wohl ein vernünftiger Schritt sei, denn ein wichtiger
Faktor für eine gelungene Therapie ist immer die Überzeugtheit des Patienten
von deren Richtigkeit. Wie eine Ärztin im Beratungsgespräch klärte sie den
kleinen Patienten über die unweigerlichen Folgen dieses Schrittes auf.
Körperliche Entwicklung wird stark beeinflusst. Aussehen, Stimmentwicklung,
psychische Disposition, im späteren Verlauf dann Osteoporose und vor allem
keine eigenen Kinder, und für Eva selbst definitiv keine Enkel. Das gefiel ihr
überhaupt nicht.
Skjell meinte dann nur, dass man eben eine Portion des Samens von Sven
einfrieren müsste um eigene Kinder und somit Enkel sicherzustellen. Sozusagen
ein eigenes Konto auf der Samenbank, meine Malte und grinste. „Hast du den
schon einmal abgespritzt meine Malte an Sven gewandt?“ Sven verzog das
Gesicht. „Mindestens jeden Abend einmal, sagte er mit einem fast beleidigten
Unterton“. Wenn Schule ist muss ich immer um acht ins Bett. Was soll man denn
da sonst machen. „Und wo schmierst du das so hin, in deinem Bett habe ich
jedenfalls noch keine Spuren gefunden,“ fragte Eva. Ich wichs in meine Socken
und die sind jeden Morgen gleich in der Wäsche.“ „Und ich dachte immer die
wären von deinem Fußschweiß so steif“ lachte Eva und war sich mal wieder
sicher dass sie einen superausgefuchsten Sohn hat. „Gut“ sagte sie, du hast
die Folgen dieses Eingriffs gehört und begriffen?“ „Ja Mama, ich bin mir ganz
sicher dass es das Beste für mich ist.“ „Wenn der Schniedel dran bleibt, kann
ich mich dann immer noch so kitzeln oder geht das dann auch nicht mehr?“
„So?“fragte Eva „hast du also doch Bedenken und willst einen Rückzieher
machen?“ „Nein, nein antwortete Sven schnell,“ denn diese Frage hatte ihm
Malte ja nicht beantworten können. „Okay“, sagte Eva und ging in die Küche um
gleich mit dem großen Brotmesser und dem Hackbrett wiederzukommen. „Zieh mal
deine Hose aus Sven und komm mit ins Bad.“ Malte schaute ungläubig, und Sven
zögerte nur einen ganz kleinen Augenblick und zog seine Hose samt Schlüpfer
Blitzschnell herunter in der Angst seine Mutter könnte es nicht doch noch
anders überlegen. Ängstlich zu Skjell gewandt, der sich sein Grinsen kaum
verkneifen konnte, fragte Sven, „Papa geht das denn so ganz ohne Betäubung?“
Skjell nickte nur und meinte dann:“Früher haben sie die Eunuchen nur so
gemacht. Aber jetzt geh mal schnell ins Bad, Eva wartet schon.“ Und Sven ging
tatsächlich und als er ins Bad kam war da seine Mutter mit Tränen in den Augen
die ihren Sohn in die Arme schloss und meinte dass sie nun wüsste wie
entschlossen er sei und wie wichtig es ihm wäre. Und sie versprach Sven alles
zu tun um ihm bald diesen Wunsch zu erfüllen. Natürlich mit Betäubung und in
einer richtigen Praxis.
Leslie war die dreizehnjährige von neben an. Sie hatte sich mit Sven
angefreundet weil er doch etwas anders war als die anderen elfjährigen. Er
schien etwas reifer, war blitzgescheit und außerdem kam er aus Stockholm, der
Stadt in der ihre Tante wohnte. Gründe genug für einen guten Kontakt.
Leslie hatte einen Hund der jetzt schon drei Jahre alt war. Er war ein Rüde
und sollte bald kastriert werden. Irgendwie war es Sven gelungen dass er dabei
sein konnte. Nein, nicht nur beim hinbringen, sondern er durfte mit Leslie
auch bei der Operation zusehen. Er wusste, dass der einzige Unterschied sein
würde, dass er nicht wie der Hund eine Vollnarkose bekommen würde. Nach zehn
Minuten war alles vorbei. Kaum Blut, ein einfacher Eingriff wie es schien.
Eva machte sich schlau. Ein Kollege nannte die Idee, die sie ihm anonymisiert
vorgetragen hatte, „Experimentelle Therapie“ die sich auf keine nur annähernd
stichhaltige Hypothese zurückführen ließe. Eine unverantwortliche
Körperverletzung, Verstoß gegen das Kindeswohl und den hypokratischen Eid. Ihr
wurde klar, das in dem regulären medizinischen System Westeuropas ein solcher
Eingriff nicht zu machen sei. Also entschloss sie sich es selbst zu machen.
Chirurgie hatte ihr in der Zeit als Assistenzärztin Spaß gemacht und sie
machte Nähte die ihre berufserfahreneren Kollegen neidisch werden ließen.
In den Weihnachtsferien übernahm sie die Vertretung für einen niedergelassenen
Kollegen und hatte so alle Möglichkeiten die sie brauchte. Es war zwar eine
Facharztpraxis für Allgemeinmedizin, die aber trotzdem mit Gynäkologischem
Stuhl und allen Einrichtungen für kleinere ambulante Eingriffe ausgestattet
war. Am Neujahrstag war es dann soweit. Drei Samenproben hatte Eva analysiert,
jede war von Spermiendichte und Lebensdauer der Spermien 1. Sahne. Also machte
sie „ein Konto „ bei der Samenbank auf und ließ ihren Sven zur Samenspende
antreten. Das Personal gab sich mit der Angst einer Mutter die schon einen
Eunuchen als Sohn hatte zufrieden um diese an sich unübliche Form der
Nachwuchssicherung verstehen zu können. Das war am 22.12.. Am Silvesterabend
feierte die Familie gemeinsam in der Wohnung in Berlin. Es lag eine seltsame
Spannung in der Luft, keiner sprach die bevorstehende Operation an und Sven
gab sich unbeschwert und quirlig wie immer. Am nächsten Morgen um neuen saßen
alle im Auto.
Sven war nervös. Eva hatte lange mit skjell diskutiert ob sie ein
Benzodiazepin geben sollen oder ob Sven bis zur letzten Sekunde die Chance
haben soll es sich anders zu überlegen. Sie waren einig darüber dass Sven
seine Entscheidung getroffen hat und diese auch revidieren können sollte.
Der dünne Flaum an seinen Genitalien war schon am Abend vorher entfernt
worden. Ebenso war Sven nach ausgiebigem Studium von Max´s Narbe dazu
entschlossen dass er es auch so schön glatt unter seinem Penis haben wollte.
Eva schloss mit pochendem Herzen die Praxis auf. Sie wusste was auf dem Spiel
stand sollte diese Sache öffentlich werden. Sven zog sich aus und saß auf dem
Behandlungsstuhl noch bevor irgendjemand etwas gesagt hatte. Skjell hatte eine
Tupfer in der Pinzette und strich Svens Schritt großzügig mit
Desinfektionsmittel ein. Die Kälte die dadurch entstand ließ ihn versuchen die
Beine aus den Schalen zu nehmen. Malte stand aber neben ihm und legte seine
Hand auf Svens Knie. Dann nahm er einen Handspiegel und zeigte Sven wie es
jetzt noch da unten aussah. Skjell setzte jetzt die Narkose und machte Sven
darauf aufmerksam dass es trotzdem sein könnte das er einen Schmerz oder
unangenehmen Druck verspüren könnte. Malte schlug Sven mit der offenen Hand
auf den Oberschenkel und sagte.“Aber niemals wir es dir so weh tun wie mir und
wie du siehst hebe ich es auch überlebt.“
Sven lächelte Malte an und Eva die gerade mit sterilisiertem Händen und
Besteck nahm ihren Platz zwischen Svens Beinen ein. Malte übernahm die die
Dokumentation mittels Digicam. Eva versicherte sich noch einmal das die Haut
des Skrotums wirklich gestrafft werden sollte und war froh dass Sven so klar
in seiner Entscheidung war. In einem Gespräch hatte er ganz klar
ausgeschlossen dass er jemals mit Prothesen die Existenz von Hoden vorspiegeln
wollte.
Sie stach mit einer Nadel um die Schmelzempfindlichkeit zu prüfen und setzte
das Skalpell an als sie sicher war das die Narkose zu wirken begonnen hatte.
Drei Minuten später lagen die zwei bläulich schimmernden Hoden in der
Nierenschale. Ein Zweizentimeter breiter Hautstreifen kam gleich dazu und für
die Naht brauchte Eva nochmal vier Minuten. Sven schaute in den Handspiegel
und sah zufrieden aus. Malte machte die letzten Fotos und Skjell ließ nun
endlich die Hand seines Sohnes los. Das Skjell sich zu einer anderen
Gelegenheit auch die Hoden entfernen ließ ist eine andere Geschichte.
Eva kehrte nach fünf Jahren in Berlin nach Stockholm zurück. Sven hatte sich
super entwickelt. Bei ihm setzte sie die Medikation zum Abschluss des
Wachstumsprozesses wesentlich früher ein als bei Malte. Sie gab gezielt
Östrogene und als die Pubertät einsetzen wollte reduzierte sie die Hormongabe
soweit, dass Sven eine wesentlich andere Entwicklung nahm als malte. Svens
Züge wurden viel sanfter, weiblicher und auch sein Körperbau nahm einen
anderen Weg. Sven unterstrich seine androgynen Züge zielgerichtet mit
ausgesuchter Kleidung und einem Habitus der jedem Mädchen gut zu Gesicht
stehen würde. Sven-ja war ein feststehender Begriff. Trotzdem gab es Seiten an
Sven die jedem Jungen gut zu Gesicht stehen würden. Sven fährt Motocross seit
er vierzehn ist und spielt leidenschaftlich gern Fußball. Auf der anderen
Seite hat sich seine soziale und schulische Situation wesentlich der von Malte
angeglichen. Sven ist beliebt, hat gute Schulleistungen ist im allgemeinen
akzeptiert.
Sven liebt es sogar seine androgynen Reize auszuleben und so trägt er liebend
gerne seine Figur, auf die er sehr acht gibt, betonende Kleidung, lange Haare
die er oft auch zu einem Zopf, manchmal auch zu zwei Zöpfen bindet...
Eva hat eine private Praxis in ihrem Haus in Stockholm. Sie hat sich darauf
spezialisiert verzweifelten Eltern von hyperaktiven Kindern zu helfen.
Manchmal fragt sie aber auch nicht so genau nach auf welchem Grund der Wunsch
zur Kastration gewachsen ist.
* * * |
Karl und seine Schwestern 3 | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES, MINOR | Karls erster Schultag nach seiner Kastration | Drei wochen nach dem er kastriert wurde sollte Karl wieder zu Schule gehen.
Seine Schwestern warteten schon ungeduldig, aber Karl wollte nicht nackt
gehen. Seine Mutter sprach kalt lächelnd zu ihm:" Ich habe mit der Lehrerin
gesprochen, sie ist einverstanden damit, dass du nackt gehst. Los lauf jetzt!"
Karl rannte hinter seinen Schwestern her mit schwingendem Ding. Er hatte Angst
davor in eine Klasse voller Mädchen zu gehen, die auf den ersten Blick sehen
konnten, dass er ein Eunuch war.Die Mädchen begannen schrill zu lachen als er
ankam. Sie hoben seinen Pimmel und lachten über die Narbe.
Ohne Hoden sieht das voll Scheisse aus, sagte Annabel, aber ich will auch
meinen Bruder kastrieren wer will mir helfen?
Alle Mädchen meldeten sich.
Drei Tage später fragte Anna ob Dieter ihr die Brüste streicheln will. Gierig
folgte er ihr, als plötzlich zwanzig Mädchen ihn zu Boden warfen und seine
Hosen rúnterrissen. Karl wollte ihm entsetzt helfen, seine Schwester griff ihm
jedoch an den Schwanz und sagte:" Ich schneide dir den auch noch ab!" Karl
rannte davon, Annabel setzte das messer an und schnitt langsam den Sack ab.
Die Hoden wurde von ihr abgerissen und an ihre Katze verfüttert.
Karl wartete angstvoll wer als nächstes ein Eunuch würde.
* * * |
Jon's Story 3. Jon Becomes a Slave. | By: Anonymous | ` `
JON'S STORY : 3 BECOMING A SLAVE.
Jon was led down some stairs and into a small room - really more of a cell.
"Wait here, and warm up" the old man said. He threw a blanket to the youth and
he wrapped it round his shoulders.
Jon sat on the small bed and waited.
Sometime later a younger man came into the room and asked if Jon had recently
seen the trader about becoming a slave. Jon said that he had and that the
trader had told him to go to this address. The man went out of the room and
came back with a photograph - of the naked Jon.
"You have come earlier than we expected, boy."
"Sorry, sir. I will leave if you like."
"No, you are now committed to becoming a slave. Remove your clothes,"
Jon hesitated.
"Go on - you are now a slave and you must obey without question.."
With that Jon slipped off the clothes.
The man compared the youth with the photo and grinned. He then prodded and
tweaked the boy's nipples. He stood back and looked at the naked youth
appreciatively.
Once more, in spite of the fact that he was cold, he enjoyed the feeling of
the eyes resting on his flesh.
"Yes, very good," the man said
"What is that envelope on the bed?"
"Its got some money from my job and my passport in it. The trader told me to
bring it with me."
"Give it to me."
Jon handed him the envelope and the man opened it. He counted the money and
grinned to himself.
" This is your home for the next few days, boy. Keep quiet or I will have to
gag you. Now, kneel."
Jon knelt before the man and saw the large lump growing between his legs. The
man took a steel collar and locked it round the youth's neck. It felt cold,
heavy and uncomfortable.
" Bend over the table."
This time the boy quickly obeyed. The man then gave him two lashes with a
small whip.
" A slave always obeys."
"Yes Sir!"
Another lash across the buttock.
"I am Master Jack!"
"Yes Master. Jack"
"You call me Master Jack and my partner Master Mike. You can sit on the bed."
The man went out of the room and locked the door. Jon was now a slave. He had
given up his freedom: he was now nothing but a piece of meat to be bought and
sold. The thought made his prick go hard.
Some hours later, the man came back and attached a leash to the slave's
collar. Jon was then led to the kitchen.
For the next half hour Jon washed the dishes of several meals. .He was aware
of different pairs of eyes examining his back, but didn't turn round. He
thought he heard comments about kidnapping slaves, but kept his head down.
After he had finished, the man led Jon back to his cell with a chain attached
to his collar.
The cell had a small bed in it and the slave looked longingly at it.
"Do you want to piss?"
Jon nodded.
"You can go in the hole in the corner."
Jon pissed in front of his new master and enjoyed the man eyeing up his young
body.
"Lie down on the bed."
Jon did, and the man roughly drew his hands up and shackled them to the head
board. He did the same to the boy's legs. He was now completely helpless and
at the man's mercy. The man put some blankets over the shackled slave and went
out of the cell, locking the door behind him.
Jon was alone, shackled and naked. He was a slave. He knew that there was no
escape, but he felt strangely free. He was meant to be a slave! He had a
raging hard on all night, but because his arms and legs were bound, he could
do nothing about it.
The next day the man pulled the blankets of the slave. He then unshackled Jon,
washed, shaved and showered him. Master Jack pulled at the slaves prick, which
had been hard all the time.
"Don't touch this again, it is no longer for your pleasure. If you need to
piss, you ask my permission. "
For the next few days Jon was used as a domestic; cleaning and washing around
the building. At meal times, he was made to wait at table, any small mistakes
were corrected with a slap. Master Jack was kind to the slave and only gave a
few lashes of the whip as it was clear that the boy was naturally submissive.
Both men appreciated the boy's body and often prodded and squeezed the young
flesh The slave was also well fed, being told that buyers like a nice plump
slave. In the evenings, he was locked into the cell and sometimes bound and
gagged. He did hear shouts and screams from nearby, but nothing was said.
Often the men wore leather costumes, and the boy noticed that Master Jack was
well muscled.
"The Dealer will see you now."
Jon was led into a bigger room in the cellar, which had the appearance of a
dungeon. The Dealer was standing by a large table.
"Get up on to the table!"
Master Jack strapped Jon down and the Master roughly examined him, and then a
discussion began.
"You must keep him for the next two weeks at least; I was expecting him to
arrive next week .We are having serious problems in the warehouse."
"What about our clients?"
"You must keep this slave hidden and completely away from them. They mustn't
know that he exists. You know that he is a virgin, and I want him kept that
way. He is a willing slave and so he won't be difficult to control .You can
beat him, but no permanent damage. A few wheals on his butt are ok, but don't
draw blood. He can be stretched and hung in here, but make sure the blood
circulates through his limbs. He also needs to be branded."
He flicked the boy's hard prickle.
"A hormone injection will reduce this."
"What about gelding him here?"
The trader roughly squeezed the slave's testicles.
"It has to be done by the Cutter, but it could be done here. I'll talk to him
about it. We must be careful; we lost a slave last month "
Jon was a bit relieved. He realised that the two men ran a bondage club and
that clients visited, mostly in the evenings. Slave keeping was a sideline.
"What about the eunuch?"
"They can be kept together if this one is restrained. It might be good for him
to see what he is in for!"
They went out of the room; Jon was alone, naked and shackled in a torture
room. After sometime, the two men came back and the trader pushed a needle
into Jon's buttock. It was female hormone and the first step to castration. He
lay there for at least an hour.
When they came back into the room, they unstrapped him and attached him by his
wrists to shackles from the ceiling; they raised him so that his toes could
only just touch the ground. They also shackled his feet together.
The youth was to be branded. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the
men had a small electric branding iron. The electric branding iron heated up.
Master Mike held the slave while Jack firmly placed the red hot steel against
the youth's tender right buttock. He squealed like a young pig and the men
chuckled. The slave was left in the room for an hour before his release. He
felt the pain on his buttock and the smell of his flesh roasting. He knew that
he really was now a piece of meat to be bought and sold, but despite the pain,
he was stimulated; his prickle stood out in front of him. This was another of
his many slave fantasies; to be a helpless youth stretched out, exposed and
now branded. Later, they came in and unshackled him only leaving the leather
collar on, and took him back to his cell.
He carried on as a house slave for the next few days. The injections were
making his prickle less able to harden. His breasts grew slightly and he
needed to be shaved less often.
He met the eunuch in the kitchen, and was allowed to talk to the boy. The
eunuch was of mixed race and had been a rent boy. He had been tricked by his
pimp, suggested that a long term contract might make him mire money, but once
the boy had signed had bound him and sold him to the trader as a slave. The
trader had him castrated immediately and so he couldn't escape his fate. Jon
was very curious and was later allowed to inspect the eunuch's scar. The boy's
name was Ricci and Jon was fascinated by him.
The days went by ;Jon was happy as a house boy, he cleaned and washed during
the days, and in the evenings he and Ricci were locked in a little attic room,
while the Masters entertained their clients. They were told to keep quiet, but
they were able to talk freely. For the first time in his life, Jon could talk
to someone about what it was like to be a gay teenager. He poured out his
secret thoughts to Ricci. It turned out that Ricci's life had not been too
different from Jon's, but Ricci had truanted and ran away from home very early
in life, and had been exploited as a male prostitute. He, too had a miserable
time with his mother's lover who also would bully him. The slaves developed a
strong bond with each other and would often fall asleep in each others' arms.
The master had told Jon not to jerk off, and he didn't feel the need as
urgently. The hormone injections were having an effect.
Ricci also told Jon about the underworld that they were now part of. The
trader was involved in many operations, some of which were not legal. The
procuring of slaves was one of many underground activities pursued by him.
Ricci told Jon that, if he were lucky, he would be sold to a rich man and used
as a sexual toy; if he were unlucky, he would end up in a brothel in the Far
East.
* * * |
|
My Sister's Friend (Part 1) | WARNING, PENECTOMY, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION | This is story of how my sister\'s friend Samantha made me her slave and imparted her cruel tortures to my privates. It\'s really interesting. | My Sister’s Friend (Part1)
I’m Steve, 18 yo guy with well built body structure. I live with my parents in
South India. I have a little sister named Jane and she had attained 12 this
year. Samantha, a good friend of my sister is residing near my home. She will
come to my house frequently to play with my sister. She is a young and very
attractive girl. She has tits large enough for her age. They both will play
Chess. There are some rules in their game. The player who loses the game
should do anything as said by the winner. If the loser did not finish the
work, the winner has the power to punish her. I and Samantha became friends
after a month. I didn’t know about her cruel nature and wild fantasies until
that day.
One Sunday morning my parents and Jane went out to attend a marriage in
another city. They said that they will return after 3 days. At that time
Samantha came to my home and called Jane. I said that Jane had gone out to
attend a marriage and she will return after 3 days. She thought for a moment
and asked whether I’m interested to play with her. I nodded my head
immediately and said, “With pleasure”. She said, ”You should sign an
assignment before we start the game” Samantha said. I replied, “Show me where
should I sign”. She handed me a piece of paper and told me sign at the end and
I signed as she said.
Then she filled something in that paper and kept in her bag. Then we started
to play the game. I lost to her. She said to finish her home work as per the
agreement. I finished it perfectly. She was satisfied. Then she left to her
home to make plans for the 2nd day. On the second day as usually we played the
game. It was a close match but she managed to overcome me. This time she asked
to wash her clothes and prepare food for lunch. I did not finish the work
within time. ”This is the time for punishment. So obey me without opposing
me”, she said. I said “ok go ahead”. She smiled very cruelly and took a long
wire and tied my arms to the steel bar above me. Then she took the agreement
paper from her bag and began to read it aloud. “I, Steve here by declare that,
I will be a slave for Mistress Samantha until the end of my life and she
possessed the right to torture me physically and mentally if I disobey her”. I
was shocked and I went speechless. Then she kept that letter back in her bag
and took out a camera. I didn’t understand what she is exactly doing. I simply
stood there watching her with astonishment. Then she moved in front of me and
to my surprise she unzipped the fly and removed my dress materials. I stood
there completely naked. I felt very embarrassed standing nude in front of a 12
yo girl. Then she took several pics with her video camera and also took a long
clip of my nude body.
I shouted at her like anything. “Do you think that I’m a fool to serve you
till the end of my life? If I get released from my bonds I will KILL you. What
do you think of me LITTLE BITCH?”, I screamed out. She was annoyed at my
speech. She came near me and took my big fleshy testicles in her hand and
squeezed till I screamed in pain and said, “Now you are my SLAVE. You are not
given permission to speak until and unless you are supposed to do so. ok”. She
twisted my balls so tightly as I writhed in pain. She squeezed it once more
and said, “Say YES MISTRESS”. I said as I was instructed.
“Now it is your punishment session for not completing your work perfectly” she
yelled. She took out a long bar made of iron and began to spank my bare ass.
“10…20…30…40..” she continued till she went tired. After spanking for a long
time she put down the iron rod and touched my red ass with her hands. “Do you
want your meaty ass to be spanked more”, she whispered in my ear. “No Mistress
Samantha”, I replied. She left free for some time and came out with a crop
that had small sharp objects attached to its end. “It will be more painful
this time” she said. Then she asked me count her strokes. I counted “1,2,3…”
and could not continue because the sharp edged crop cause immense pain to my
swollen ass. Blood starts to ooze from my ass. “Oh baby it is nice to see your
warm blood out of your ass” she whispered. Then she stops spanking and moves
to my front side to see the expressions of my eyes. She starts laughing at my
tears and said “Oh poor slave boy don’t be a sissy, a lot is ahead to come”.
Then she places both of her hands in my ass and dugs her sharp nails into it.
I can’t tolerate it and so I cried out in pain. She begun to dug her nails
deep into my ass as much as I scream. Then she took her hands from my ass and
begun to lick my blood from her hands. “hmmm! Your blood tastes good” she said
tasting it. “I want more blood. Would you provide me?” she continued. “Yes
Mistress I will provide my blood to satisfy your hunger”, I replied. “That’s
good. Take rest I will see you tomorrow” she said and left my home leaving me
in a vulnerable condition.
On the third day she had prepared for more cruel tortures. “If you obey me I
won’t torture you” she said. “I will obey you Mistress”, I replied. “Ok then
there is no need to tie your arms further. Isn’t?” she asked me. “Yes
Mistress” I replied submissively. She removed the wires and set me free. “On
your knees slave boy” she ordered. I knelt before her and she made me lick her
feet clean. Then she tied a leash to my balls and led me away to her farm. “I
think you haven’t taken food since last morning isn’t?” she asked me. “Yes
mistress Samantha I haven’t”, I replied eagerly waiting for a good breakfast.
“Ok then have this cow dung as your breakfast. It will be very tasty”, by
saying this she dragged me near to the dung. I denied her orders. She moved
backward and gave me a hard kick on the balls as I crumble down to ground.
Then she pulls the leash tied to my balls backwards until I cry out in pain.
“Eat it or else your balls will suffer more punishment”, she yelled out. After
that I crawled over to the dung and put my mouth in it and ate it. She laughed
at my pathetic situation and said “This is all you have to do. Clean it up
quickly”. After I had finished eating it, “I know you are very thirsty. Open
up your mouth slave boy, I shall fill my golden pee in to your mouth to
satisfy your thirst” she continued. I opened my mouth as she said and drank
her pee fully without wasting any drop.
Then she led me to her house and tied me to her bed. Then she removed her
clothes to reveal her nude body to me. Suddenly my cock had an erection and
pointed upwards. She gently caressed my cock with her right hand while
fondling my heavy balls with her left hand. Then she sat on my face and said
“Make me cum with your tongue with in 2 minutes. If you do, I will allow you
to unload your balls. But if you don’t do then you will suffer punishment. Do
you hear me?” She knows that it is impossible to do that. All she needed is a
reason to torture my balls. “Yes Mistress“ I replied. Then I started to lick
her with my tongue as fast as I could. But I could not make her cum with the
specified time. “Your time is over and this is your punishment time” she said
as she laughed.
She then led me to her bathroom and tied my balls tightly using a thin wire
and attached an empty bucket to it. “Do you feel any pain?” she asked me and I
replied no. “Ok then I think it will surely stretch and cause pain to your
balls”, by saying this she opened the water tap and made it to flow right into
the empty bucket. As the bucket started to fill I felt my balls stretched away
from me. I can’t bear it and I begged her to stop the water tap. Instead of
stopping it she just laughed and made it flow quickly. After a minute the
bucket got filled and so she closed the tap. Then she asked “Do you want to
release your load slave boy?” How could I say “yes” as my balls being
stretched away from me. Then she slapped across my face and said “Answer me
you worthless worm”. I replied “No mistress”. But she took no care of my words
and started to stroke it up and down violently. I can’t take the horrible pain
she imparted to me. After some time of torture she set my balls free.
Then she took me to her basement room and I was shocked to find out a group 5
male slaves were being tortured by her assistants. I found a male slave (Jack)
being led away by one of her assistant. Samantha introduced me to her
assistants, ”Hi girls, this is Steve, a new member of the Samantha’s Slave
group”. All the assistants gazed and played with my cock and balls for a while
and returned to their work. Jack, the elder slave from the 5 member group was
driven to the kitchen room, separated by glass from the basement by her
assistant. Everyone can clearly see him through the glass fitted between
basement and kitchen.
I thought of him as a sheep being led to the butcher shop to be chopped into
pieces. I had a erection and mistress Samantha noticed it and asked “Do you
feel excited of what is going to happen to Jack?” I simply put my head down.
“He will be our meal today and you will be tomorrow”, she said. I was
terrified at this moment. I pleaded her to set me free. But all pleas went in
vain. Then she moved to the kitchen. Jack was tied upside down and the
assistant handed the knife to Mistress Samantha. Samantha took the knife in
her right hand and placed it right in the ass hole and begun to cut his ass.
The slave writhed in pain and tears flowed from his eyes. He is just a slave.
What else he can do other than crying because of the torture given to him.
Then she took hold of his balls in her left hand and took her time in cutting
the scrotal sac. His balls were exposed to her. She took hold of the balls and
pulled it away from him as he screamed out and finally she cuts them off. Then
she placed her mouth on the scrotal flesh and drank the blood and tore it
using her massive teeth. Then she turns her attention to his cock. She cut his
cock into small pieces inch by inch and put them in the pan that is used to
fry them. At this time he passed out. Then she left him to her assistants to
cut his meat into pieces. After some time they cooked him up and ate him.
Samantha ate his balls, cock, ass and heart. Her assistants had the rest of
him. After that she pointed us and said “YOU MALE SLAVES ARE JUST A SACK OF
FLESHY MEAT FOR US. YOU SHOULD BE PROUD OF BEING TAKEN AS FOOD BY BEAUTIFUL
GIRLS LIKE US, ha….ha…ha….. ”. Her assistants burst out into a loud laughter
as they heard it.
On that night I somehow managed to escape from the cruel clutches of Mistress
Samantha.
To be continued....
* * * |
Tom Rakewell in London | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES | Author's Note: This story is based very loosely on "The Rake's Progress" with significant differences.The names of all but one of the characters have been changed to protect......the author.<BR>Synopsis: A dissolute young Englishman, a debauchee and seducer of virgins, given to riotous living, is given his comeuppance in a fashion which makes it advisable for him to retire to the life of a country squire which he had abandoned to sample the "fleshpots" of London. | ` When Sir Adelbert Rakewell departed from this Earth, in accordance with the
hallowed custom of primogeniture, he bequeathed his titles and the entirety of
his estate to his elder son, August Rakewell, a a singularly stuffy and
pompous young man whose principal concern was propriety. This left his younger
son, the Honourable (HAH !) Thomas Rakewell, Esq. , never having learnt
anything which might even conceivably be of any use in earning a living,
entirely dependent upon the largesse of his older brother.
Thomas' steadfast devotion to drinkin', gamblin', and wenchin' led to Sir
August's wholehearted agreement with Tom's desire to live in London, or
ANYWHERE, as long as it was far enough away from Rakewell Hall, Snips
Geldings, Hants., the ancestral home of the Rakewells.
Thus it was that, by 1732, Thomas found himself ensconced in comfortable, if
modest, digs on the outskirts of London and rapidly accepted into the ranks of
the rakes and roaring boys of that Metropolis. Tom retained a manservant named
Joseph who served primarily as a valet, and a housekeeper, Mrs. Gudgeon, who
reluctantly entered the young bachelor's pigstye weekly to endeavour to
establish some semblance of cleanliness and order, as Thomas often arrived
home late at night, excessively drunk and puked in the entryway.
Having observed early on the effects of the clap and the pox on some of his
companions, Tom was fastidious enough to avoid swiving streetwalkers or any
but the best class of whores. His predominant passion, however, was for
virgins. Gifted with a face which would set any female heart to palpitating,
and hypnotic bedroom eyes and being excitingly well hung, the latter
emphasized by the almost painful tightness of his breeches, Tom was well-nigh
irresistible to any maiden on whom he might have set his sights.
Tom's luck was truly phenomenal. Not only did he neither contract nor transmit
either the clap or the French disease, but he had managed so far not to get a
single ex-maiden with whom he had lain with child. Most of his comrades had
begotten at least one bastard and had been hard-pressed to make the matter
right with the unwed mother's family without resort to the dreadful
alternative of marriage.
Tom was not much concerned with the former maiden's honour which he considered
of little value.Thus, he had managed not to have to send any begging letters
to his brother asking for money to buy off irate parents. This is NOT to say
that he sent Sir August no begging letters. Living within his means was
definitely not Tom's forte. The money was nowhere as annoying to Sir August
(It was worth almost any sum to keep Tom in London.) , as the flippant, overly
familiar, and disrespectful tone of the letters in which Tom invariably
addressed him sarcastically as "Sir Knight."
So it was that Tom was not at all disturbed to receive a visit one morning
from an elderly crone whose daughter's maidenhead he had pierced, to his own
great pleasure the previous night. The old woman demanded monetary
compensation for her daughter's virginity and her honour, pointing out that
the girl had been rendered less marriagible by the loss of her maidenhead.
"Her honour ?" laughed Tom. "Why, of course. Here is the value of her honour:
1s. 6d." which he gave the mother in the form of a shilling, thruppence,
tuppence, and a penny. In a rage, the crone threw the coins into Tom's face,
cutting his cheek and left vowing revenge.Tom laughed heartily and Joseph
applied vinegar and brown paper to his cheek.
Tom stayed out late on the evening of the following day, gamblin'and drinkin'
and emerged from the tavern to find a typical London pea-soup fog. Worse, it
was the night of the new moon and the streets were pitch black. A glimjack
[link boy or torch bearer] approached and said "Loight yer wye 'ome m'lord ?
aonly sixp'nce." (The "m'lord", of course, was sheer flattery.) Tom agreed to
the price and , giving the "moon curser" his address, was guided to within
sight of his dwelling. There he gave the lad a sixpence and dismissed him.
No sooner were boy and his light out of sight thanfive dark figures,
apparently dressed in dominoes, surrounded Tom. Before Tom could make any
outcry, a handful of rags were stuffed into his mouth and strapped in place
with a band of cloth. Four of the five figures held him by his ankles and arms
so that he was effectively immobilised. The fifth person pulled Tom's breeches
and his small clothes down. As a claw-like hand closed over his stones, Tom
struggled and tried to scream, to no avail.
Tom felt the bitter edge of a knife-blade against his bag. Suddenly, there was
an instant of searing pain and then something which he could not clearly see
in the darkness was being held up before his eyes, he knew that it had to be
his bag and bollocks. With a muffled despairing wail, Tom swooned. When he
awoke, his assailants were gone.....and so were his stones. Tom fumbled in his
pocket, seeking the key to his front door, but, in his confusion and pain,
could not find it. He pulled out the gag and staggered to his door, bleeding
profusely. Tom pounded on the door and shouted "Joseph, come quickly for I am
sore hurt !"
After a while, Joseph came down and opened the door, holding a candle, and saw
there his master wild-eyed with his breeches and small-clothes down, bleedingt
from the groin. Joseph seated Tom on a chair and fetched a towel which he
stuffed between Tom's thighs. Then he fetched a lanthorn and ventured out into
the night in search of a chirurgeon.
Tom was unconscious when Joseph returned with a barber-surgeon who was able to
stanch the bleeding and cauterise the wound. Joseph and the barber-surgeon
carried Tom to his bed and the barber-surgeon advised Joseph to give Tom salty
meat broth and wine of Oporto to make up for the loss of blood and promised to
send a physician in the morning to treat the fever. Dangerously weak and
feverish, Tom passed a bad night.
The physician came at 8:00 in the morning and administered a decoction of
white willow bark as a febrifuge and approved the salty mutton broth and wine
of Oporto to help Tom build up more blood to replace what he had lost. The
fever broke in the early evening and Tom slept soundly and naturally the
following night.
The next day, a bailiff questioned Tom about the attack, but Tom could not
identify any of his assailants, and, though he strongly suspected the old
harridan who had thrown the coins into his face, Tom felt it best not to
mention that matter.
Tom was bedridden for a fortnight and, from the obstinate flaccidity of his
yard each morning, it became clear to Tom that he was almost surely impotent,
as might well be expected, having lost the source of his manhood.Though Tom
was not givenj to the practise of onanism, he did take his formerly virile
member in hand and endeavour to induce its wonted rgidity. The best that he
was able to produce was a halfsoft swelling of the yard, and no amountof
further manipulation would bring about any great pleasure nor, as was to be
expected, any discharge of mettle.
And so, Tom was forced to recognise that he could neither fuck nor toss off.
His life had become as empty as his groin. Of course, he still possessed his
yard, but it was of no use to him except to pass water. As he walked about
after finally rising from his bed a fortnight after the attack, Tom was
acutely aware of the emptiness between his thighs.Though he had never really
noticed the sensations of his stones bumping against his thighs or swinging
back and forth inside his breeches, he was very aware of their absence.
Tom became deeply melancholy and sat in a chair by the window staring
listlessly out into the street. His drinking and gaming companions showed what
kind of friends they were . None of them visited him or seemed aware that
anything had happened to him. Tom felt that he had lost not only his virility,
but his youth and his strength. None of the pursuits which had shortly ago
occupied most of his time appealed to him now at all Drinking had lost its
charm. Deflowering vrgins was impossible. Gambling seemed pointless. He had
never been religious and was certainly no more so now.
Memories of his childhood in Snips Geldings came flooding back into his mind.
He was no longer a man, and an attempt to return to the joys of childhood
before the sinful pleasures of adulthood had taken over his mind began more
and more to appeal to him. There was huntin' and fishin' and just lyin' in a
meadow lookin' up at the clouds, and these joyful memories moved him to tears.
For the very first time, Tom wrote a serious respectful letter to his older
brother,August. Instead of beginning "Ho, Sir Knight, Greetings to your
"August" self.....", it began "My dear Brother."
I am disgusted with the tawdry pleasures of London. I desire nothing more than
I do to return to the home where I spent the happy years of my boyhood. I
knowthat I have been a nuisance and embarassment to you. That is, I assure
you, ended.If I am allowed to return to Rakewell Hall, I shall give you no
occasion to regret my return.
I have suffered a most grievous loss in London which I shall explain to you
when we meet and which has made me best suited to a quiet life of retirement
as a country squire. I anxiously await your reply which I hope will be
favourable.
Your Contrite Brother, Thomas"
A week later, the brothers met at the door of Rakewell Hall. Boith had
changed. Sir August had gone rather beyond embonpoint into obesity, becoming
ponderous and great-bellied, resembling Falstaff in his old age.Tom was now
wide of hip, thick of thigh, and prominent of bum. Little concealed by his
shirt and weskit were a pair of very feminine-looking breasts. Sir August,
never the soul of diplomacy or tact,exclaimed "Well, Tom, you've become
deucedly strange-looking, I must say."
Once inside the house and seated opposite his brother, Tom explained why he
looked so "deucedly strange." For once, Sir August expressed sympathy for his
unfortunate brother and the matter was never again discussed. Of course, Tom
never married and was unable to enlarge the tribe of Rakewells, but he settled
into the role of a country squire and became an affectionate, indeed doting,
uncle to his brother's offspring, ultimately seven in number.
* * *
` |
Die Verwandlung | GAY, STRAIGHT, PENECTOMY, Scat | Ein Sub wird in eine Scatsau verwandelt | Er kniete nackt vor seinem MASTER, es wurde ihm ein Stift in die Hand gegeben
und er unterzeichnete den Sklavenvertrag, der ihn zum Scattier des MASTERS
werden lassen sollte, damit wer ein Scatfressendes Etwas wird, die
Unterschrift wurde beglaubigt und der Vertrag ihm vorgelesen.
Zuerst hatte das Tier Briefumschlage an jeden zu beschriften, den es kannte,
Freunde, Familie und Kollegen, in diese mußte es dann Photographen stecken,
die es zeigten , wie ihm ein Mann in sein Maul schiß. Es mußte dazu eine Karte
schreiben, die besagte, das es ein Scatfresser sei und dann die Umschläge
verschließen. Nachdem es die Umschlage frankiert hatte, mußte es sie zum
Postkasten tragen, wohl wissend, das es nie wieder einen dieser Menschen sehen
würde und auch im vollen Bewußtsein, das die Empfänger geschockt und angeekelt
sein würden, wenn sie den Brief öffnen würden. Die Klappe des Kastens schwang,
jetzt gab es kein zurück mehr.
Am nächsten Tag begann ein Zahnarzt im alle Zähne zu ziehen, die nutzlos
geworden waren, da die Gaumen ausreichten, den Scat zu kauen mit dem es
gefüttert werden würde, so das es kein Hindernis gab, seine Kehle damit zu
füllen.
Der MASTER begann sein Arschloch zu dehnen, zuerst mußte es dauernd immer
größere Plugs tragen. Immer Größer wurden die Plugs, bis sein Arsch
prollabierte, so das es über seinen Schließmauskel keine Kontrolle mehr hatte
und die Scheiße nicht mehr halten konnte.
In Thailand befreite ihn ein Chirurg von fast seinem gesamten Penis. Nur ein
kurzer Stummel blieb ihn, so das es nicht in der Lage war, sich zu wichsen,
wenn es geil wurde. Weiterhin wurden ihm Brustimplantate eingesetzt, so das es
aussah, als hätte es Hängetitten. Die Ohren wurden vom Kopf abgeklappt, so das
es Segelohren hatte, die sich perfekt als Handgriffe eigneten. Die Nerven
seiner Blase wurden durchtrennt, damit es die Pissenicht mehr halten konnte.
Auf dem Rückweg zurück in die Heimat musste es eine Windel tragen. Zuletzt
wurden die Stimmbänder durchtrennt, so das kein Wort mehr über seine Lippen
dringen konnte, nur noch Gegrunze, wie bei einem Tier.
Der MASTER bedeckte ihm den Ganzen Kopf mit Wachs und riß ihm so jedes Haar
mitsamt der Wurzel aus. Sogar die Wimpern wurden von den Augenliedern
entfernt.
Als die Wunden in seinem Maul abgeheilt waren, begann der MASTER, es mit
Scheiße zu füttern und es Pisse saufen zu lassen. Sie ließen es im Spiegel
zusehen, damit es erkannte was für ein Freak sei. Schließlich erkannte es, was
es immer innerlich gewusst hatte, und so brachte der MASTER es zu anderen
Menschen, die er ein Scattiere verwandelt hatte. Diese beschmierten sich
gegenseitig, sie rollten sich und rieben sich mit der Scheiße und der Pisse,
die aus ihren Tierkörpern quoll, ein. So erwarteten sie im Dreck und Gestank
ihre MASTER, die ihnen Natursekt und Ihren Kaviar gaben, nachdem sich die
Scatviehe aus tiefsten Herzen sehnten. Und sie waren so glücklich wie nie
zuvor.
* * * |
The Anguished E, Chapter Seventeen | STRAIGHT, PENECTOMY, TESTICLES, MINOR | Chris Bellows writes professionally for Pink Flamingo Publications (http://www.pinkflamingo.com). This is the seventeenth chapter of a book length female dominant/male submissive story involving control of the male genitals utilizing a variety of methods.Please feel free to send comments to [email protected] entire book will be posted. | ` The Anguished E `
Copyright 2002
by Chris Bellows
Part Two
Brandy’s Story
Chapter Seventeen
The table was cleared and the caterer’s matronly waitresses brought coffee.
I looked up to see the masturbator struggle to move his head, the tracheal
tube and neck collar greatly limiting his mobility. He could hear the people
in the room..., the sounds consisting of light conversation and the pleasant
effects of continuous oral service.
Erma arose to once again to toy with the hanging boy’s testicles.
“Amazingly soft and absolutely hairless,” she noted.
Her hand moved up and the masturbator felt her fingers testing the firmness of
his seven inches. Its hardness surprised even the masturbator. Since he could
neither touch nor gaze downward to see it, it was only Erma’s exploring hand
that implied to the masturbator the intensity of his erection. It was as if
the organ belonged to someone else, and the masturbator merely acted as
custodian.
The women enjoyed coffee. They talked. They discussed the curious stiffness of
his anatomy. Jackie arose to stand at his side. More fingers were felt. They
were bold. Dr. Ann also stood and reconnoitered with the tenderness of a
mother examining a child. The masturbator slowly flushed with embarrassment.
Naked, restrained, ..., he stayed erect for the group despite his humiliation.
“Goodness, he’s leaking.”
The masturbator heard the tittering laughter of the feminine gathering as the
observer noted pre-ejaculatory fluid beading about the purple tip of his
manhood.
“The harness does such wonders for the exhibition of the male, does it not
ladies?” observed Dr. Ann.
All murmured agreement as a firm hand bent the most steadfast of erections
downward, testing its turgidness. The masturbator squirmed attempting to bend
his waist to more comfortably adapt to the pressure the Doctor applied.
Erma moved to a nearby buffet and opened a drawer. Within was a set of rubber
phalli organized from left to right in increasing sizes. She selected one of
moderate size and returned to the hanging masturbator.
Dr. Ann and Jackie sat down. The masturbator felt the familiar firmness of
Erma’s touch. She stood out of sight to his left side as her right hand
steadied his nearly free swinging form by gripping the thick flesh of his left
buttock. Her left cupped the bottom of his scrotum, raising it and drawing the
bag of smooth pinkness forward for better viewing.
“This boy is knows as the ‘masturbator’. He’s one of our older boys ladies.
Though he won’t respond as well to alteration, I’m sure you’ll find the
exhibition of his virility to be most entertaining. I’m going to demonstrate
the mastery that an assertive woman can attain over the subservient male...,
and when Brandy gives me the sign we’ll have the masturbator here spurting for
you like a fire hose.”
The room filled with politely restrained laughter. Erma withdrew, leaving the
masturbator’s plums swinging before a dozen feminine eyes. The boy closed his
eyes in shame. He could hear the consumption of coffee and to the side Erma
preparing for the exhibition. The rope attached to his neck collar was
jostled.
The masturbator felt a finger gently explore the crevice of his buttocks. It
was slippery and when it found his rectum, slid in easily to the second
knuckle.
Oddly, the masturbator would appreciate the precautionary lubrication. His
rear passage was tight and little utilized.
Desert was served and the exhibition began in earnest. I knew suspension had a
curious affect on the male anatomy, effecting the nerves and dendrites of the
spine so as to make the male organ stiff. Erma commented.
“Interesting is it not ladies? The effect of suspension on the penis. I often
wonder how long a male can stay erect like this. There does not seem to be a
limit.”
Erma slipped a simple length of polished wood between the masturbator’s knees,
forcing apart the thighs. Its very width kept the cleverly designed board in
place as the masturbator could not part his knees any further to release it.
The addition resulted in the masturbator’s scrotal sac swinging freely below
the erect phallus. There was discussion at the table referring to his position
as being the picture of submission, Jackie wishing she had a camera.
“Such a photo would be a warming visual memento for a cold winter’s night,”
she gushed with a chortle.
For a male’s system to maintain an erection, circulation is essential. The
masturbator breathed heavily to draw in the oxygen needed for tumescence. The
sound of air rushing through the tracheal tube punctuated the occasional
silence.
Erma attached the rubber phallus to her thigh strap.
When she turned to approach the naked form swinging at the end of his chain,
Melanie gasped. The phallus had a special bump designed to pressure the
prostate gland. She had never before seen such a specially crafted cylinder of
rubber.
Erma grasped the free end of rope hanging from the pulley above. With her left
hand she tugged gently, signaling the masturbator and reminding him of her
control. She moved behind him. Her right hand guided the rubber phallus
attached to her thigh. The tip slipped between the masturbator’s cheeks.
“Open nicely for me.”
She increased the tension on the rope. His experience at the ranch told him
that Erma would do as she chose. His intention would be to make it as painless
as possible for himself.
With a slight forward and upward motion of Erma’s powerful thigh, the black
rubber obelisk slithered into the masturbator’s anus. My guests whispered
approval.
“Waggle for the ladies, boy. Give them a nice greeting.”
The masturbator could feel the proximity of his ebony tormentress. His inner
thighs brushed against her right leg. His upper arms, secured behind him, felt
the warmth and firmness of her breasts. She positioned her face over his left
shoulder and blew into his ear.
“You’re going to please me today, aren’t you boy. I know how to make you very
happy.”
Her left hand pulled. More of the masturbator’s weight was borne by his neck
collar. The tracheal tube insured his supply of oxygen was maintained while
Erma playfully demonstrated to my friends the amazing effect of full body
suspension with carefully monitored traction of the spine.
The masturbator’s erection moved straight up. Pointing to the ceiling, the tip
almost pressed against his stomach. Incredibly, the organ in fact waggled in
humble response to Erma’s request. The room erupted in laughter.
The right thigh of the accomplished musturbatrix began to pump. The
masturbator was being sodomized before the gathering. He felt shame. He was
embarrassed. He was humiliated. But he savored the moment as pure ecstasy.
This was what he had lived for during his weeks of chastity at the ranch. Each
day forced to exhibit himself naked, being exercised, washed, inspected...,
his constant restraint forbidding masturbatory relief. And now Erma was
finally going to allow him to tumefy, to entertain before a group of women...,
to feel the powerful touch of the amazingly Dominant black woman..., and in
graciously being permitted to spill his seed..., to climax..., for her and
before a group of women..., and later to be permitted to kiss her feet in
gratitude.
Fluid began to ooze from the masturbator’s penis and streamed down the long
shaft. He could not help but squeeze his buttocks and grip the phallus with
his sphincter, increasing the friction and the sensation in his prostate. His
body surrendered, taking the mammoth object with waves of ecstacy ebbing in
his cerebrum.
He had no thoughts of resistance. In fact he tried to pull his own trigger,
thrusting forth his hips to end the overwhelming pleasure by ejaculating for
the crowd of women. Though he did not want the wondrous sensation to end, he
was overwhelmed.
Erma felt his effort.
“No, no. Boy. When I say so. You know my boys here climax only when I wish.”
How true.
The rope tightened. The thigh moved more vigorously. Erma’s right hand circled
his right hip and palmed the testicles.
“Notice how the scrotal sac tightens ladies? His system is preparing itself to
ejaculate. The various muscles are contracting, getting ready to explode.
“But you’re not going to do that yet are you boy?”
Erma taunted as her hand moved to the base of the erect manhood. She squeezed
with a hand that could crush steel cans, completely blocking the urethra.
The masturbator would not ejaculate prematurely. Nothing would pass while the
hand of the ebony giantess maintained its hold.
Several more minutes of pumping ensued. The masturbator squirmed, trying his
best to end the agonizing torment of overwhelming but incomplete pleasure.
Meanwhile the rope tightened causing the neck collar to bear more and more
weight. The sound of air rushing through the tracheal tube evidenced the
masturbator’s need. His circulation raced. Erma could feel the intensity of
his body heat through her thin latex skirt.
Knowing that it was by her hand that he heavily breathed and squirmed,
fighting to bring himself to that most humiliating moment, brought a rush of
satisfaction. Erma had a live puppet with which she played, dangling
helplessly impaled on the curious phallus of her choosing. Her wetness flowed.
She could feel the moisture of arousal drip down her thighs.
Finally after an interminable period, Erma’s right hand stroked.
Just one stroke..., a tease, bringing her hand up from the bottom to the tip
of the erection. The masturbator shuddered and again thrust forward his hips
in a futile effort, expecting a down stroke. Instead, Erma removed her hand
and the masturbator found his penis thrusting into air. Again the room erupted
in laughter.
“I think you’re hinting at something , boy,” a smiling Erma mocked.
“Let’s see now..., you’re completely naked before a room full of women...,
you’re helplessly suspended in mid air..., your backside is stuffed with a
huge implement doing what to your prostate I can only imagine..., your penis
is erect and the color of purple..., and I’ve kept you completely chaste for
weeks.
“Now what is it you want?”
Erma paused her hand action, continuing to pump methodically with her thigh.
“I’m going to guess that you’d like to show all these women how much you enjoy
ejaculating.”
Erma’s right hand returned. Incredibly, she could stroke the long shaft with
enough pressure to make ejaculation impossible. The masturbator had never
experienced such firm grip. And to add to the torment the knowing hand bent
the stiff manhood downward, completely eliminating any chance of the
masturbator emptying himself before the appointed moment.
The masturbation began.
The left hand lifted more, the right hand stroked, the thigh pumped. The
masturbator squirmed in ecstasy trying desperately for the final ignominious
act..., to empty himself for Erma and for the pleasure of the fascinated
audience of women.
Stroke after stroke, the masturbator tried in vain. Finally Erma looked to me.
I smiled, greatly enjoying the display, knowing that my gathering of friends
was well entertained.
I nodded. It was the signal Erma awaited.
“Well boy. Would you like to squirt for me? Would you like to soil the table
cloth?”
Erma’s grip eased and she stroked faster. She slowly changed the angle of the
erect appendage. Her left hand pulled. The chain slackened. The rope attached
to the masturbator’s neck collar bore his entire weight.
“Come for me boy. Show the ladies how obedient you are.”
The penis pointed straight forward, Erma stroked. The watching women gasped as
a thick jet of white splattered to the white cloth. Another stroke another
splatter. Laughter. A third stroke a third load of thickness.
“Good boy. Pump for me. Pull.”
The masturbator squirmed in obedience, thrusting and working to give Erma all
that his system had to offer. He understood the command to pull, initiating
pressure on the male valve deep in his system.
The explosions ended but the penis still exuded fluid.
Erma’s thumb and forefinger pinched the base of the deflating appendage then
drew down to the tip, forcing from the organ the last drops of spermatic
fluid.
The gathering applauded. The masturbator closed his eyes and remained
motionless in a strange reverie of combined shame and elation.
He had been well masturbated, drained of all he had to offer by a woman he
would come to idolize..., worship..., revere. I imagined that he wished he had
more to give and fantasized being permanently suspended while a firm feminine
hand ceaselessly stroked and forced his essence from him in an endless geyser
of gelatinous whiteness. He envisioned himself as a fountain of semen,
performing continuously for Dominant women and for my pleasure.
* * * |
Mein Vater, mein Sohn (german / deutsch) | adaption und bearbeiteun des englischen textes a father, a son | Mein Vater, mein Sohn
„Mein Vater? Machst du Witze?“
„Wieso? Ich finde ihn echt heiß“ sagte Paul und zwickte meine Brustwarzen. „Er
ist doch super in Form, findest du nicht?“
Naja – da hatte Paul irgendwie recht. Obwohl er früher mehr Zeit für Sport
hatte als jetzt, konnte er es wahrscheinlich mit einigen aus meiner Klasse
aufnehmen.
„Im Ernst. Er hat einen geilen Body und ich wette sein Schwanz ist mindestens
so dick und geil wie deiner.“ Paul drückte meinen Schwanz ein wenig und
grinste mich an “Hast du ihn schon mal gesehen?“
„Irgendwie schon – als ich noch jünger war, aber das zählt wohl nicht“
„Wie groß ist er denn? Hatte er einen Ständer“
„Hör auf damit, verdammt“ sagte ich und zeigte auf den Wecker neben meinem
Bett „Sieh lieber zu, dass du nach Hause kommst. Du kriegst noch Besuch!“.
Pauls Familie bekommt Besuch vom jüngsten Bruder seiner Mutter. Ein großes
Wiedersehensfest war anberaumt und Paul sollte auf jeden Fall pünktlich um
sechs zu hause sein.
„Ich bin fast 18 und sie behandeln mich noch immer wie einen kleinen Jungen!
Ich hasse das!“
Paul stand auf. Sein nackter Schwanz hing vor meinem Gesicht und ich gab ihm
einen kleinen Kuss auf die Eichel, die immer noch ein wenig nach seinem geilen
Saft schmeckte. „Ich hasse es gehen zu müssen, jetzt mach es bloß nicht noch
schlimmer.“ Ich lächelte ihn mit meinen hellblauen Augen an und gab ihm einen
Klaps auf den Po.
Ich beobachtete Paul, wie er sich anzog. Wir waren Freunde seit ich mit meinem
Vater nach dem Tod meiner Mutter nach Köln zog und seit etwas mehr als einem
Jahr fickten wir auch. Es hat als harmlose Spielerei angefangen und wurde fast
auf natürliche Weise immer mehr. Paul sah gut aus. Er hätte locker jedes
Mädchen in unserer Schule haben können. Er war blond, dünn, aber athletisch,
hatte braune Augen und einen geilen 17 cm Schwanz, den ich für meine Leben
gern lutschte.
„Stell dir nur vor – Du, ich und dein Vater! Von der Vorstellung werde ich
schon wieder ganz scharf“. Er rieb sich an der Vorderseite seiner Baggyjeans.
Ich musste lachen. Paul war wirklich ein Nimmersatt. Das war für mich okay,
meistens wollte er sowieso lieber mit mir ficken, aber gelegentlich ließ er
sich von Typen die er über das Internet kennen gelernt hat einen blasen.
Er gab mir einen heftigen Abschiedskuss und ging.
Ich habe mir etwas zu essen gemacht und wartete nicht auf meinen Vater. Er
schob oft Überstunden im Büro und kam nicht selten erst nach zehn Uhr abends
heim.
Während ich aß dachte ich nach, was Paul über meinen Vater gesagt hat. Es
stimmte schon. Er war 39, er war gerade mal 21 Jahre alt, als ich zur Welt
kam. Hatte wie ich dunkle Haare, seine hatten inzwischen ein paar vereinzelte
graue Strähnchen, und hellblaue Augen. Er hat früher viel Sport getrieben, das
sah man noch, aber in letzter Zweit ist er wegen der vielen Arbeit nicht mehr
oft dazu gekommen.
Und ich dachte darüber nach, was was er über seinen Schwanz gesagt hat. Wie
lange ist das jetzt her? Ich muss so 13 oder 14 gewesen sein, als er und ich
völlig verschwitzt nach hause gekommen sind, weil wir an diesem warmen
Sommertag im Hof Fußball gespielt haben. Meine Mutter bereitete gerade das
Essen und sagte, wir sollen uns vor dem Essen noch waschen. Mein Vater
verschwand sofort im Bad und ich kam nach ein paar Minuten nach. Mein Vater
saß schon in der Badewanne, und da wir damals keine seperate Dusche hatten,
setzte ich mich mich mit dazu, wie wir es oft gemacht haben, seit ich ein Baby
war.
Ich saß zwischen seinen Beinen und lehnte an seiner behaarten Brust. Er
kitzelte mich unter den Armen. Als ich versuchte zu entkommen, hielt er mich
zurück und rief „Keine Gnade“. Ich bekam seinen Fuß zu fassen und rächte mich
indem ich ihn dort ebenfalls kitzelte. Nach einer Weile ferlor ich den Halt
und fiel nach hinten auf meinen Vater zurück als ich etwas hartes,
pulsierendes gegen meine Hüfte drücken spürte.
„Komm, steig raus aus der Wanne - das Essen ist bestimmt gleich fertig“ sagte
mein Dad. Als ich aus der Wanne stieg, bemerkte ich, dass mein Schwanz semi-
hart war und trocknete mich ab. Mein Vater lächelte mich an, aber ich hatte
das Gefühl, als ob er mir auf den Schritt starrte.
„Was ist mit dir?“ fragte ich.
„Ich komme nach. Geh in dein Zimmer und zieh dich an“
Als mich mein Vater an diesem Abend zu Bett brachte, sagte er, dass ich
langsam zu alt würde um mit ihm zu baden. Ein paar Monate später starb meine
Mutter in einem Autounfall. Seit dem stürzte sich mein Vater in Arbeit. Er
verwöhnte mich, stellte sicher, dass immer irgendwelche Nachbarn oder Freunde
auf mich aufpassten. Unsere früher so enge Beziehung begann sich zu verändern.
Er liebte mich immer noch, er bewies dass durch vieles, was er tat, aber eine
Umarmung stand außer Frage.
Als mein Vater spät abends nach hause kam, lag ich schon im Bett. Ich stand
auf, zog meine Boxer Shorts an und ging nur in Boxern bekleidet die Treppe
runter ins Wohnzimmer.
„Hey Daddy“
„Hi Chris. Habe ich dich geweckt?“ fragte er und lockerte seine Krawatte.
„Nein. Ich konnte sowieso nicht schlafen“
Verdammt! Paul hatte recht. Während sich mein Dad das Hemd aufknöpfte bemerkte
ich, dass er sehr gut aussah. Unter seinem Hemd hatte er ein eng anliegendes
weißes Unterhemd an, dass seine Brustmuskulatur zu erkennen gab.
„Wie war's in der Schule?“
„Blöd, wie immer, ich wünschte ich hätte das Abi endlich hinter mir. Wie war's
im Büro?“
„Stressig – wie immer“
„Willst du einen Drink“
„Danke, Sportsfreund. Das wäre klasse.“ Während er sich streckte und ich seine
Halsmuskulatur sah, ging es wie ein Ruck durch mich. Ich stand auf und
schüttete meinem Vater einen Whiskey ein. Er nannte das seinen Feierabend
Drink. Ich reichte ihm das Glas.
„Danke mein Sohn“
Ich setzte mich auf den Sessel gegenüber und er musterte mich von Kopf bis
Fuß. Auf der Höhe meiner Boxer hielt sein Blick inne. Er starrt mir direkt auf
meinen halb offenen Hosenschlitz, der ein bisschen was von meinem Schwanz zu
erkennen gab. Plötzlich setzte er sich aufrecht hin und nahm einen Schluck aus
dem Glas.
Ich konnte sehen, dass er müde war und auch wenig nervös, so nah bei mir. Er
sah wirklich geil aus. Ich wollte ihn am liebsten fest an mich drücken, aber
statt dessen durchwühlte ich sein kurzes Haar und sagte „Ich hab dich lieb,
Dad.“
„Ich dich auch, Kleiner. Wir sollten schlafen gehen.“
Wir gingen beide die Treppe rauf, ich kurz hinter ihm und sah ihm die ganze
Zeit auf den Hintern. Habe ich meinen Vater immer schon so geil gefunden oder
hat mir Paul einen Floh ins Ohr gesetzt?
„Hey Dad. Wir könnten doch vielleicht mal wieder ins Schwimmbad oder so gehen
– wie früher.“ Ich wusste, dass mein Vater es liebte schwimmen zu gehen, aber
er war bestimmt schon seit Jahren nicht mehr mit mir in der Badeanstalt.
Wir blieben vor seiner Schlafzimmertür stehen. Mein Zimmer lag direkt
gegenüber.
„Weißt du was – eigentlich könnten wir das machen. Ich habe sowieso zu viele
Überstunden und im Büro ist jetzt auch wieder weniger los. Vielleicht kann ich
ein paar Tage frei nehmen.“
Er sah mich an und ich strahlte ihn an vor Freude. Am liebsten hätte ich ihm
einen Kuss gegeben, ich habe mich sogar ein wenig nach vorne gelehnt, aber er
gab mir nur einen Klapps auf die Schulter.
Ich kletterte ins Bett, schaute an meine Zimmerdecke und überlegte wie toll es
ist endlich wieder was mit meinem Vater zu unternehmen. Ich dachte auch daran
was Paul gesagt hat und dass mir heute zum ersten mal wirklich aufgefallen
ist, wie heiß mein Vater war.
Ich hörte die Schlafzimmertür meines Vaters aufgehen und sah ihn durch meine
offene Zimmertür, nur in engen Briefs ins Badezimmer laufen. Ohne nachzudenken
fuhr ich mit meiner Hand über meine Bettdecke und knetete meinen hart
gewordenen Schwanz. Er war wirklich geil und wäre er nicht mein Vater, hätte
ich bestimmt versucht ihn an zumachen. Meine Hände wanderten unter die
Decke....
###
Auf dem Weg zurück vom Bad, sah ich noch einmal in das Schlafzimmer meines
Sohnes. Er lag da, er schien zu schlafen, seine Hände unter der Decke. Er
schien zu schlafen und gleichzeitig hatte er seinen Schwanz in der Hand. Ich
musste lächeln. IN seinem Alter habe ich mir vier bis fünf mal am Tag einen
runter geholt. Ich hätte schwören können er tut das selbe.
Er sieht klasse aus. Er hat dunkle, fast schwarze, glatte Haare, ist fit. Er
schwimmt und spielt Fußball und hat eine gute, gesunde Bräune von der Sonne.
Vielleicht sollte ich wirklich mehr Zeit mit ihm verbringen. „Ich liebe dich,
mein Sohn“ flüsterte ich.
Seine Hand begann langsam seinen Schwanz zu streicheln und durch die dünne
Sommerdecke konnte ich sehen, dass der ganz schön groß war. Ich ging in
Gedanken zurück an in den Sommer vor fünf Jahren. Das war das letzte mal, dass
ich ihn nackt gesehen habe. Da war es noch der Körper eines Jungen, jetzt,
gerade achtzehn geworden ist es der Körper eines Mannes.
Ich sah an mir herunter. Der Kopf meines wachsenden Schwanzes kämpfte sich
einen weg durch den Bund meine engen Unterhose. Chris schlief noch und er
wichste sich im Schlaf. Verdammt, sah das geil aus. Ich sollte nicht hier
sein, sagte ich mir als sein Stöhnen heftiger wurde. Ich wollte gehen, aber
meine Beine wollten sich nicht bewegen. Langsam fasste ich in meine Unterhose,
hielt meinen hart und feucht gewordenen Schwanz und streichelte ihn im
gleichen Rhythmus wie er sich wichste. Chris stöhnte. Das riss mich aus meiner
Starre. Oh Gott, was tue ich hier? Ich rannte fast in mein Schlafzimmer und
legte mich ins Bett. „Was stimmt denn nicht mit mir? Ich kriege einen Steifen,
wenn ich meinem Sohn beim wichsen zusehe!“ Mein Schwanz pochte. Ich zog meine
Shorts aus und fing an mich zu wichsen. Wie damals, vor fünf Jahren, spritzte
ich ab und dachte dabei an Chris.
Am nächste Tag kam ich früh vom Büro nach hause. Ich habe mir vorgenommen
wieder ein wenig mehr Zeit mit Chris zu verbringen. Als ich zu hause ankam
hörte ich Geräusche aus seinem Zimmer. So leise wie ich konnte ging ich die
Treppe rauf um ihn zu überraschen. Auf der Hälfte der Treppe, merkte ich, dass
es ein Stöhnen war. Ich dachte er macht vielleicht ein wenig Hanteltraining.
Als ich fast schon vor seiner Tür stand, bemerkte ich, dass deutlich zwei
verschiedene Stimmen hörte. Es klang wie wilder, geiler Sex. Nicht nach der
Blümchen Nummer. Keine Kuschelei. Ich hörte wie sein Fleisch gegen Fleisch
klatschte, schnell und rhythmisch. Klar – Chris war seit ein paar Wochen 18,
aber ich hab nie daran gedacht, dass er Mädels fickt während ich im Büro
sitze. Wenigstens er hatte ein Sexleben.
Ich schlich auf Zehenspitzen an seine Zimmertür, die weit offen stand. Ich sah
hinein. Das erste was ich erblickte war sein Arsch der sich schnell rauf und
runter bewegte. Was für ein geiler Arsch. Perfekt runde Form und von der
Anstrengung mit ein paar Schweißtropfen auf den Backen und auf dem Rücken die
durch die schnellen Bewegungen in seine Arschritze wanderten und sich dort
sammelten. Er fickte wirklich hart und schnell, und dass Stöhnen wurde inniger
und lauter. Dann sah ich die Beine, die auf seinen Schultern lagen. Mein Mund
stand plötzlich offen. Das waren nicht die Beine eines Mädchens. Die
Schienbeine waren mit sanften blonden Haaren bedeckt, die Waden kräftig und
muskulös. Das waren definitiv die Beine eines Fussballspielers. Mein Schwanz
pochte und wurde heiß und hart. Ich ging ein paar Schritte zurück und lief die
Treppe herunter in die Küche. Mein Schwanz sprang mir förmlich entgegen als
ich über der Spüle meinen Reißverschluss öffnete. Ich zog die Vorhaut zurück
und rieb den Tropfen Vorfreude, der sich aus dem Pissschlitz drängte über
meine Nille und begann meinen Schwanz zu kneten. Aus dem Zimmer meines Sohnes
wurde das Stöhnen lauter. Sie schrien fast. Es war leicht zu bemerken, dass
sie bald kommen würden. Ich fing an meinen Schwanz schneller zu bearbeiten,
schloss meine Augen und dachte an Chris Arsch wie er auf und ab ging, seinen
vollen Sack wie er gegen den Arsch seines Fußballkumpels klatschte. Mein
ganzer Körper begann zu zittern und meine Knie wurden weich als ich eine
riesige Ladung in die Spüle abschoss.
Ich steckte meinen Schwanz zurück in die Hose und wusch schnell durch das
Spülbecken. Dann ging ich zurück vor die Treppe und verhielt mich ruhig. Den
Geräuschen nach zu urteilen, waren die Jungs oben fertig. Was hat der Junge
nur die ganze Zeit da oben getrieben, als ich arbeitete. Ich ging aus der
Haustür und blieb einen Moment lang draußen stehen. Dann schloss ich
geräuschvoll die Tür auf und betrat das Haus, rief „Ich bin zu hause!“ und
schlug die Tür Hinter mir zu.
###
„Scheiße, mein Vater“
Paul und ich lagen noch nackt auf meinem Bett und ich verrieb sein Sperma auf
dem Bauch.
„Geil. Vielleicht will er mitmachen. Ich bin von deiner Sauce so
eingeschmiert, daß er mich sofort ficken könnte“
“Halt die Klappe und zieh dich an“ sagte ich, halb lachend. Ich sprang in
meine Jeans, ohne eine Boxershort anzuziehen und streifte mir ein T-Shirt
über. Ich lief die Treppen runter.
„Hey Dad! Du bist früh zurück“
„Ja. Ich dachte wir könnten zusammen Abendbrot essen“
Endlich kam auch Paul die Treppe herunter.
„Hey. Du bist Paul, oder?“
„Ja, das stimmt“ sagte Paul und zu meiner Verwunderung wurde er ein bisschen
rot.
Mein Vater grinste. „Es muss ganz schön heiß sein da oben. Ihr schwitzt ja
beide“
Paul wurde noch roter und suchte nach einer Ausrede.
„Ja“ sagte ich schnell „Der Trainer hat uns hart rangenommen heute“
„Ja ja, genau“ sagte Paul und starrte meinen Vater an. Irgendwas an seinem
Hemd schien seine Aufmerksamkeit zu wecken. Als ich hinsah, bemerkte ich einen
frischen, milchig weißen Fleck an der Stelle, auf die Paul starrte.
„Tja, Paul... Musst du nicht heimgehen?“
Paul starrte weiter, sagte nichts und seine Zunge fuhr kurz über seine Lippen.
„Paul?“
„Oh, äh, ja natürlich. Meine Eltern sind da ziemlich strikt“
„Okay, Paul. Dann sehen wir uns mal wieder“ sagte mein Dad und ging in die
Küche, wo er sich an seinem Hemd zu schaffen machte.
„Ich gab Paul schnell und unbemerkt einen Kuss und sagte „Ich sehe dich morgen
beim Spiel, okay?“ Er schlug mir auf den Arsch, grinste und ging.
Als ich in die Küche kam, stand Dad vor dem geöffneten Kühlschrank und sagte
„Fang!“
Er warf mir ein Bier zu, ich fing es auf, öffnete die Dose und wir prosteten
uns zu.
„Ich habe uns schon lange nichts mehr an einem Wochentag gekocht.“ sagte Dad.
Er nahm einen Topf aus dem Küchenschrank, ließ Wasser einlaufen und stellte es
auf den Herd. Er starrte auf die Knöpfe an der Bedienzeile.
„Du bist früh zurück.“
„Was?“ fragte er und schaute weiter auf die Temperaturregler.
„Warum bist du schon zu hause“
„Na deswegen!“ sagte er und machte eine Kopfbewegung in Richtung Herd.
„Du bist zu hause um dir den Herd anzuschauen?“
„Witzbold!“ Nein, ich bin zu hause um mehr Zeit mit dir verbringen zu können.
Versteh mich nicht falsch. Ich will nicht, dass du dich verpflichtet fühlst
oder sowas. Du hast ja auch deine Freunde“
„Nein. Das ist okay. Es freut mich, wenn wir uns mehr sehen“
„Ich war wirklich nicht viel für dich da, seit deine Mutter starb. Es tut mir
leid.“ sagte er und sah dabei traurig aus. Seine Augen wurden ein wenig
feucht, er dreht sich mit dem Gesicht weg zu mir und fasste mit der Hand an
sein Auge um eine kleine Träne weg zu wischen.
„Hey Dad. Das ist schon in Ordnung. Sicher habe ich dich vermisst, aber du
hattest es auch schwer. Ich verstehe das.“
„Ich habe dich auch vermisst. Es ist mir nur erst jetzt klar geworden.“ sagte
er leise und versuchte weiter sein Gesicht vor mir zu verstecken.
„Weißt du was ich am meisten vermisse?“ fragte ich ihn und legte meine Hand
auf seine Schultern. Er zuckte zusammen. „Ich vermisse am meisten deine
Umarmungen“
Er drehte sich um, seine Augen waren ein bisschen gerötet und er öffnete seine
Arme.
Ich schlang meine Arme um seine breiten Schultern und presste mich fest an
ihn. Endlich, nach all den Jahren hatten wir wieder Körperkontakt.
„Ich liebe dich, Dad“
Ich gab ihm einen Kuss auf den Hals und er spannte seine Muskeln an. Ich legte
meinen Kopf auf seine Schulter. Zu meiner Verwunderung erwiderte er den Kuss.
Er küsste mich zwar nur auf die Haare, aber immerhin. Sein Körper entspannte
sich wieder ein wenig.
„Dann lass uns mal kochen“ sagte er.
„Okay“ sagte ich und wollte ihm noch einen Kuss auf die Stirn geben. Im selben
Moment wollte er noch was sagen und meine Lippen berührten seine. Ein
elektrisches Kribbeln durchfuhr meinen ganzen Körper. Wir hielten inne, unsere
Lippen berührten sich noch. Ich bemerkte wie mein Schwanz steif wurde. Für
eine kurze Sekunde spürte ich wie meine Vater mit seiner Zunge über meine
Oberlippe fuhr und mein Schwanz wurde in diesem Moment hart wie Beton. Dann
zog er seinen Kopf zurück.
„Okay“ seufzte er „dann kochen wir mal“
Er löste sich aus der Umarmung und platzierte die Bierdose vor seiner
Anzughose. Seine Augen wanderten an meinem Körper herunter. Erst jetzt
bemerkte ich, wie sich meine Eichel den weg aus meiner Hose gebahnt hat. Er
hat das auch bemerkt, lächelte kurz uns blickte sofort weg um sich dem Topf zu
widmen.
Als wir zusammen aßen fragte er mich, ob ich heute Abend schon was vor hätte.
„Ja“ sagte ich „Ich schau mir mit ein paar Freunden DVDs an“ Ich hasste es ihm
direkt eine Absage zu erteilen, hoffte aber, dass es vielleicht in Zukunft
mehr Gelegenheiten. „Ich werde aber nicht so spät nach hause kommen. Ich muss
fit für das Spiel morgen sein.“
###
Der Abend mit Chris verlief toll. Er gab mir sogar einen Abschiedskuss auf die
Wange als er gegangen ist. Ich schämte mich allerdings ein wenig für die
Erektion, die ich hatte, als sich unsere Lippen zufällig berührten. Aber es
ist so lange her, dass ich einen Körper so nahe gespürt habe. Seit meine Frau
starb, war ich mit niemandem mehr wirklich intim.
Man kann diesen Blow job nicht wirklich intim nennen. Das ist fast zwei Jahre
her jetzt und da war eine Wand zwischen uns. Ich war damals auf dem Weg zurück
von einem Kunden und musste dringend pissen. Ich fuhr also mit dem Wagen an
eine öffentliche Toilette und stellte mich in eine Kabine um mir Erleichterung
zu verschaffen. Als fertig war und abschüttelte bemerkte ich, dass ein Loch in
der Seitenwand war durch das mir jemand zusah. Irgendwie machte mich das
scharf. Ich wichste mich ein bisschen und sah ein paar Finger durch das Loch
greifen. Ich drehte mich in die Richtung und die Finger verschwanden.
Stattdessen war hinter dem Loch ein willig geöffneter Mund. Mein Stamm war
hart und so schob ich ihn durch das Loch. Ich fühlte die warme, feuchte
Mundhöhle an der Spitze meines Schwanzes und fühlte wie sich die Lippen um
meine Latte schlossen. Meine Frau und ich hatten ein gutes Sexleben, aber das
hat sie nie gemacht. Ich fühlte die Zunge um meine Eichel rollen und wie mein
Steifer immer wieder tief nach innen gesaugt wurde. Ich stöhnte auf und fing
an in das Loch zu ficken. Es dauerte nicht lange und ich spritzte in den Mund
ab. Ich zog meinen Schwanz zurück und setzte mich auf die Toilette um mich zu
sammeln. Da sah ich wie durch das Loch ein prächtiger, pulsierender Schwanz
gesteckt wurde. Es war etwas kürzer als meiner, aber gut dick und steif. Er
war beschnitten, die Adern traten hervor und hatte einen schimmernden, etwas
feuchten großen Kopf. Ich zögerte zuerst kurz, dachte dann aber es ist nur
fair, wenn ich ihm auch einen blase also leckte ich ihm über die zuckende
Eichel. Ich hörte ihn auf der anderen Seite aufstöhnen also kniete ich mich
hin und stülpte meine Lippen über seinen pochenden Penis und saugte ihn tief
ein, bis ich merkte wie er an meinen Rachen stieß. Ich würgte kurz, saugte
aber weiter und ließ meine Zunge immer wieder seinen Schaft entlang fahren. Es
fühlte sich gut an, einen geilen Schwanz im Maul zu haben und ich ging mit dem
Kopf schnell vor und zurück. Er spritze eine kleine Ladung in meinen Mund.
Scheinbar ist er schon ein paar mal gekommen.
Als ich das letzte mal einen Schwanz blies war ich noch ein Teenager. Ich und
mein Kumpel Micha aus der Schule wichsten gelegentlich zusammen. Ein paar mal
haben wir uns gegenseitig den Schwanz geblasen. Aber ich habe ihn nie gefickt,
wie Chris es mit Paul tut. Man ist nur einmal jung und muss Erfahrungen
machen. Und diese Erfahrung war geil.
Im Fernsehen lief nichts interessantes und so ging ich bald zu Bett. Das
denken an die Erfahrung von damals ließ meinen Schwanz wieder hart werden.
Vielleicht sollte ich mal wieder ausgehen. Ich zog mich aus und legte mich
aufs Bett. Ich knetete meinen Schwanz durch meinen Boxer-Slip. Chris hatte
heute Nachmittag einen riesigen Ständer. Aber das muss nichts bedeuten. In
seinem Alter habe ich in den unmöglichsten Momenten einen Steifen bekommen.
Ich hob meine Hüfte an und zog meine Unterhosen aus. Ich legte meine Hand auf
meinen harten Schwanz und begann langsam die Vorhaut vor uns zurück zu ziehen
und rieb mit der Innenfläche meiner Hand über die Eichel. „Ja, geil“ seufzte
ich und begann mich etwas härter, aber immer noch langsam zu wichsen. Mit
meiner freien Hand spielte ich mir an meinem Nippel. Wieder schossen mir die
Bilder durch den Kopf wir Chris Paul fickte. Er nahm ihn richtig ran. Ich
merkte wie ich noch geiler wurde. Er stopfte seinen dicken Schwanz tief in
Pauls Arsch und zog ihn weit raus, nur um wieder zu zustoßen. Ich wichste mich
schneller. Ich dachte an den Schweiß, der sich in seiner Arschritze sammelte
und dachte daran wie geil und salzig das schmecken musste. Ich malte mir aus
wie er seinen Kumpel heftig stieß.
„Ja, fick ihn“ rief ich, knetete meine Eier und fickte mich in meine Faust.
Ich war völlig in dieser Welt gefangen. Ich hörte Chris schwer atmen und
konnte ihn förmlich neben meinem Bett stehen sehen. Nackt und mit seinem
dicken, harten Schwanz in der Hand.
„SCHEISSE“
Das habe ich mir nicht vorgestellt. Er stand wirklich da und streichelte
seinen Schwanz. Ich bedeckte meinen Schritt mit den Händen.
„Hi Dad“ sagte er und lächelte auf mich herunter.
Wird fortgesetzt....
* * * |
|
Claire and Sasha part one | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES | Claire teaches Sasha how weak men are. | "Really!" Claire ask sounding surprised.
"No I havn't." Replied Sasha.
"You should it's really funny and sort of makes you feel powerful."
"So it really works like it does in the films then?" Asked Sasha.
"Ohh yeah and often better. They just collapse and make these weird noises.
They just go totally helpless."
"Don't they get up and just punch you?"
"No way. Thing is they wont admit it but they are too scared of it happening
again. I guess it just hurts them sooo much and I think they get scared your
going to pop one or something!" Claire looked excited now and made a squeezing
action with her hand in front of Sasha's face as she said this. "So they are
really nice to you after, they just want to get away with both balls intact."
"Wow. so who you kicked and have you ever popped one?" Asked Sasha.
"Most of the rugby team."
"Really" asked Sasha sounding impressed.
"Yeap, their balls don't get any tougher as the guy gets bigger. They all fall
down and whimper like injured puppys."
"Ever popped one though?"
Claire smiled and looked conspiratorial. "You Steve who the first three weeks
of the term off?"
"Steve in our art class?"
"Yeah him. Well he's only half a him!"
"Nooo. Your kidding."
"No, for real."
"How? When?"
"Christmas party at Jane's he was pissed and kept grabbing my tits. So we went
outside I let him get his hands in my bra I undid his trousers, kissed him and
popped his left ball."
"Fucking hell!" Exclaimed Sasha. "Just like that? You just popped it?"
"Yeah, it was funny really. Poor bloke was quivering with pain and trying to
scream or beg or something but I kept my mouth clamped to his till it popped
and he passed out. Took about 15 or 20 seconds I guess."
"Then what happened?" Asked Sasha, clearly amazed.
"He just lay there on the grass, I went back in and got my glass of wine and
when I went back out he was making these funny noises and curled up in a ball.
I told him he shouldn't be so pushy and if he told anyone I would say he was
trying to rape me and he would get in loads of trouble. I don't know how he
got home, but that is why he was late back to uni. After christmas."
"It just popped in your hand and he passed out?" Asked Sasha, still clearly
amazed.
"Yeap, it just popped. I mean I had to squeeze pretty hard but yeah it just
popped and he passed out. Men are damn vulnerable down there."
"Yeah they must be."
"Listen, you know Simon, Simon in the rugby team. I think he does Physics or
something?"
"Yeah?" Sasha answered quizically.
"He will let you kick him in the nuts if you want to try."
"Really?"
"Yeah, don't pop him though he's got lovely big balls"
"Why will he let me?"
"Well" Started Claire "I kicked him in the nuts once in my bedroom. We had
just had sex and he said something stupid as he went to get dressed. So I just
kicked his naked balls. You should see their faces as all that pain kicks in.
They just look so shocked, so helpless, so scared and so swamped in pain, like
there is nothing else going on in their head. Anyway I kicked him, he fell
down crying all the normal stuff except his dick got hard."
"He liked it?"
"Sort of, I don't think he likes the pain, that’s what he says anyway. But he
did enjoy the defeat."
"What does that mean?"
"He liked being defeated by a girl, he liked feeling weaker than me, he liked
knowing I was superior to him. I grabbed his nuts and gave em a squeeze and
his dick just got harder still. Then we had sex again. Much better than the
first time. This time I was in charge. Anyway I'm not telling you about that,
but do you want to kick him?"
"Yes!" said Sasha enthusiastically.
* * * |
Pregnant | WARNING, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION, MINOR, Modifications | Women no longer needed to go through the pregnancy process. Men were separated into breeders and birthing males. The submissive males were treated like slaves and became pregnant carrying the load of procreation for women. | The law demands that every male is registered at the age of 14. At that time
males are evaluated at a selection center and either receives a breeder
license at that time or is held over until the age of 16 for further
evaluation. Usually if this happens there is a reason like low sperm count,
small testicles or small cock. The law provides time for late bloomers to
reach their final genital growth. I was one of those who had not yet reached
their full potential and sweated out the next two years. Although some of my
friends had become licensed breeders and let me know it every day.
When I turned 16, I was taken to a selection center for my final evaluation.
At the selection center I was assigned a dorm like all males before me. Once
at the center, all males were stripped, tagged probed and tested. During our 5
day stay, we slept on hard cots with no sheets and naked at all times. Our
every move was monitored by computerized cameras. The woman evaluators read
the computer reports and tracked our social interaction, bathroom habits,
masturbation activities and if we were attracted to the other young men in our
dorm in any way. Then we would surrender to medical test each morning. Our
days also consisted of various athletic, mental and physical tests.
I knew I was quite straight and yet seeing all the young men in my dorm with
their dicks flopping around and in the bathroom I was intrigued. I was warned
that masturbating in bed at night improved my points as apposed to doing it in
the shower or while interacting with other boys.
Then on our final day at the center we received the final results. We were
sent to a room alone and were met with 5 women sitting at a table. We were
walked in by a naked eunuch who assisted in the process and had been assigned
to our dorm. He attended to all our needs and helped answer our nervous
questions.
My physical appearance was considered very attractive but I was very twinkish
and smooth. I am 6 feet 4 inches and only way 160 pounds. That makes me a bean
pole. I have sandy curly blond hair and during my 5 days at the center
attained a full body tan from sports in the sun with the other boys. My pubic
hair is unusually thinner then the other boys thick man patches and is much
the same color has the hair on my head. My dick is long but not at all thick.
My balls are I thought was an average size but hang much lower then my dick.
The other boys had much larger testicles then me.
I awkwardly stood their naked in front of the all female panel and was asked
to keep my hands behind me. The Chief Panelist read my name and went through
each area that I had been evaluated on. The report said;
1) You are not very social with other males and tend to assist them in a
motherly fashion;
2) You seem to be a bit lazy in competitive situations
3) You seemed to have an interest in comparisons with other men’s bodies
especially in the shower.
4) You are not considered gay but have shown that you are more submissive then
assertive.
5) You masturbated a total of 3 times during your evaluation stay.
6) Finally, you had 4 public erections during your stay while viewing the
other candidates or participating in sports with them.
The result is that you will not become a breeder and will report to the
birthing center for further instructions. “Nooo! Please nooo!” I screamed. “I
can’t become a pregnancy male! I like women. Please don’t make me a pregnancy
male! PLEASE!” The female panel erupted with anger. “You know that begging is
not going to change the outcome. You must now submit to the guards? Guards!!
Get him out of here and send him to transport to the birthing center
immediately”. As I was dragged out crying I overheard them say they made the
right decision as my boner was standing straight out and I was crying. This
outcome also meant that I would never again see my family or friends.
I was whisked away by the guards and into a waiting bus in irons. As I
approached the bus the other boys in my dorm were yelling and taunting me
“preg-ers, pre-gers, pre-gers”. I was in shock. I always thought I would
become a breeder. This was a mistake. The bus was crowed with other males and
there were no seats. We were essentially stacked on the floor in our chains.
My face was pressed up against another boy’s ass. Those chosen for breeding
were still pounding on the bus windows and calling us pregger-boys and that
they will be fucking us soon.
The bus arrived at the birthing center 2 hours later and I was dragged off in
chains. I told the eunuch guard that I had to pee and he said, “Good what’s
stopping you. Do it now.” So as I walked toward the building I let lose with a
strong stream of pee that shot out onto another boys legs. We were escorted to
a class room for our instruction. Sitting there naked and in chains with the
other young men and female instructor entered the room and started to lay out
the rest of our lives. She said;
1) You will no longer see your family they are in your past and you are now in
the service of the female counsel.
2) You will no longer need clothes except a chastity device protecting your
ass from the other males and prohibiting unauthorized ejaculation.
3) All body hair other then your head will be removed premantly.
4) The act of sex in form is prohibited.
5) You will be nullified by removal of your penis and testicles.
6) You will receive a procedure creating a vaginal cavity for birthing.
7) Your service to society will include the birth of no less then 30 children,
breast feeding and natural impregnation by a breeder male.
8) You will be implanted with eggs in your new vagina on an as needed basis.
9) A permanent collar will be installed and you will remain harnessed that way
until your birthing days have come to an end.
10) A bar code will be permanent placed on the back of your neck for
identification.
I can’t believe this is happening. I was taken to a stall and chained to the
wall. It was my new home. I have become a piece of meat whose only purpose in
life was to give birth. I cried myself to sleep on the cold floor knowing what
was to come.
The following morning I was awoken by a horn and the door to my stall was
opened. Several eunuchs instructed all of us to kneel in front of our cages.
One by one were led away to the operating room.
I was put on a cold steel table and strapped down. The female operating team
came in, injected my groin and in no time I could no longer feel between my
legs. I was not even given an opportunity to squirt my man juice and feel the
pleasure of an orgasm. They removed my pubic hair as my lifeless dick just
laid there. One woman who was applying some sterile liquid on my balls and
cock grabbed me and laughed. She said, “All you fems look alike when we are
about to de-man you. Too bad for you fem. Your life as you know it is over”.
Soon after the operation began. They immediately and without warning sliced
into my scrotum and pulled both balls out. My average balls were pulled onto
each thigh and immediately sliced from my body from the top of their cords.
The doctor then ran her scalpel completely around my smooth scrotum and cut it
off leaving only a small flap of skin.
Next my penis. As they had given me an injection to keep me calm I was
dreaming about how I loved to play with it, tug it and stroke it. My hips had
been restrained and a device was attached right through the head and it
stretched it as far as it would go. Suddenly, with one swipe of the scalpel it
was no longer part of me. I was screaming into my gag watching my former
member recoil into the apparatus.
Next came an incision in my neck. I had never heard about this but my vocal
cords were detached and the wound was stitched up in a matter of minutes. I
could no longer have sex as a male or speak. How humiliating this was or so I
thought until the next phase of the modifications began.
Without further delay the team created a pouch in my groin just like a vagina
with the extra skin the surgeon left from my scrotum and penis. My urethra
easily moved towards my ass. I noticed that I would now have to pee in
squatting position. Then, they made four slices in my smooth chest and two
incisions just below my nipples. They inserted pre-grown glands in each of the
incisions that were designed to produce milk. Then nipples were fashioned on
my chest. I now had 6 nipples with milk producing glans and each were tattooed
with a number. What the fuck? I was no longer a man but a birthing male.
Over the next two weeks I was left to heal with daily check-ups. All the
modifications they made hurt like hell. I grew 6 large breasts which hung off
my chest and was not give any support for them as they became D cups. I got
used to my new pisser and vagina. Then one day the female doctor assigned to
me had cleared me for breeding.
I was taken to the breeding room and introduced to my breeder. It was the
younger brother of my best friend. His name was Conner. He was very hot young
looking stud with a huge cock and low hanging balls. His body was well
developed for being so young and was chosen for breeding at the age of 14. His
patch of pubic had already surpassed anything I had when I was male and it was
black bushy and thick. We had played together growing up and I really never
thought of him as anything other then my friends little boy brother. The only
time I saw him naked he was still a boy and had tiny parts. That had changed
dramatically!
The law said that the breeder assigned to a birthing male was your master and
could do just about anything he wanted to me. I had already been implanted
with eggs from an authorized female and it was time for me to get bred. I
could not speak to him so I just stared into his young eyes as he stripped and
instructed me to get onto the breeding table and spread my legs. He climbed on
top of me and was already hard as a rock. He said he was looking forward to
this for a long time and it was even better it was me. He would be punishing
me for any perceived pleasure on my part and that I was expected to obey his
every command. At that he grabbed my leash pulling my collard neck up to his
face, gave me a big kiss and said to get to work. I was so humiliated I almost
died as he plunged into my new breeding vagina. He pumped away like there was
no tomorrow. I felt no pleasure only pain and humiliation. I could feel his
hot load shoot inside and he withdrew with a sigh. He said he always thought I
was a fem and was glad he could fuck me. My first breeding was complete.
As time went on, Conner usually wanted me in an outdoor environment and I was
brought to a clearing in the woods and chained to a post. I never wore a
chastity device anymore and I got use to being nude and fucked several times a
day. As he aged he became even more hung. I was amazing what he had between
his legs. I had never seen a penis that big before. His balls swung back and
forth along with his semi hard dick. He told me to “kneel bitch”. “You are
mine for the next several years. We will be making babies for my mistress who
want’s about 25 children. Of course you will birth and breast feed my little
suckers. You will clean their piss and shit and honor my mistress by raising
them to be superior females or breeder males. Now, I think you were trained in
priming a breeders pump so get to it bitch.” At that I started sucking on his
massive member. He mounted his huge cock into my mouth and I did my best to
suck him and he shot a huge load into my mouth. Streams of cum shot down my
throat again and again. I started to like that and was punished sometimes for
showing it.
After, he said, “We need to put my seed where it will make some babies” and he
laughed. At that he flipped me over and ran his hand over my smooth groin.
“You call that a pussy boy?” “Open wide bitch” He then started fucking me hard
again. Several times a day every day I was fuck by this very young stud.
Finally I became pregnant with my first litter. All six of my breasts grew
large and full of milk. Nine months later I gave birth to 5 babies. It hurt
like hell. My breeder and his mistress were their for the birth and she sat
there drinking champagne and commented that she was glad she didn’t have to
hear me scream when one after another were pushed out. She was on her cell
phone telling her friends while I was pushing out the last.
Later the babies started sucking on my milky breasts and 3 days later I was
implanted with more eggs and my young breeder started fucking me again daily.
This was my life. This is what I had become. I would never be that young
breeder stud. I’m an it who gets bred in every hole I have.
* * * |
Greensleeves, Chapter 1 | WARNING, BI | Is your wife expecting a visit from a dear friend? You may well be the reason for the visit, even though you don\'t know it. | ` `
GREENSLEEVES
Chapter 1
I really can't explain why I'm writing this story, other than it's my attempt
to organize my thoughts and memories of something that happened to me several
months ago. That particular event was by far the most exciting, most life-
altering thing anyone could possibly imagine. At least, that's the way it was
for my wife and me. Maybe after you read this account, you'll have other
opinions. Different strokes, I guess.
We had been married for close to six years when our lives were changed so
radically. Like most things that affect us deeply, this one started innocently
enough, with a telephone call.
We were sitting in our living room, relaxing and watching a TV news channel
after dinner, when the phone rang. Ellie (my wife Ellen) answered, as was
usual. I could tell by the animated and excited tone of voice she used that
she was talking to someone she liked, and they were talking about something
that was very interesting to her. After the first few seconds, she told the
caller to hold on, and then said to me, "Honey, it's Glenda, my friend from
college. I'm going to talk to her in the other room so we won't disturb you."
With that, she left the room, her voice fading as she walked down the hallway,
talking a mile a minute on our cordless telephone.
It was almost half an hour before she returned, her face flushed with
excitement, joy evident in her expression. Before she even sat down beside me,
she began, "Glennie is going to be in town next week, and wants to see me
again. God, I haven't seen her for ages. It's surely been at least two years.
We have lots of catching up to do. She was telling me about her new job,
although I guess maybe that's the wrong thing to call it."
"She's self-employed now, and travels all over the country providing special
services to people. She says it's the most exciting thing anyone could
imagine. I can't wait to get all the details when she gets here."
"I told her she could stay here with us when she's in town. That's okay, isn't
it, sweetie?"
There was no way I could be negative about her friend's visit, seeing how very
happy Ellie was when she talked about it. It would be a slight inconvenience
to me to have another person living with us for a week, but no more than that.
I loved my wife so much that I'd have gladly put up with ten times that amount
of aggravation, just to please her. I told her it'd be great to have Glenda
staying with us for awhile, and that I looked forward to meeting her.
Ellie spent the remainder of that evening telling me about her friend. They
had been roommates in college, and formed a strong friendship at that time.
Although their contacts were infrequent since graduation, they occasionally
wrote and called, just to touch base with one another.
I wasn't more than casually interested in her friendship with the other woman,
but tried to hold up my end of the conversation. By the time we went to bed, I
knew more about Glenda than I could remember, since that's all Ellie talked
about during the intervening hours. At one point, she even dug out her college
yearbook and showed me both their photographs. I have to admit that when I saw
how beautiful her friend was, my interest increased a little bit. I'm just a
man, after all, with my brain in my crotch.
The next day, Ellie began preparing for her friend's visit, mainly by cooking
food and then putting it in the freezer so she could stay out of the kitchen
during the following week. She double-checked with the house cleaners, wanting
them to do an extra-special cleaning before the visit. All-in-all, she was as
busy as a beaver with her preparations, and seemed to have a smile on her face
all the time.
I have to admit that she made those few days extra special for me, also. After
being married for several years, we had kind of fallen into a rut when it came
to making love. Our foreplay became much more perfunctory, and took much less
time, than it formerly had. I enjoyed giving oral sex to her, and she seemed
to enjoy receiving it. The actual penetration itself was short-lived, though,
and then we would fall asleep after a few minutes of hugging and kissing.
After Glenda's call things changed. Ellie seemed to take charge much more than
she ever had, even to the point of actually giving me instructions during
cunnilingus. I can't explain just why it was, but I definitely found it
exciting to be told how to pleasure her, and tried my best to follow her
directions.
She also used a position that was new to us. Always before, she would lie on
her back while I slowly kissed my way down her body. As I got closer and
closer to her crotch, she'd spread her legs, and then I would lick her as I
bent over her prone body. There had even been some occasions when she'd take
my penis into her mouth, although they had become very rare in the past three
years.
What changed then was that after I'd begun providing the oral service, Ellie
began to roll onto her side, taking my body with her. She continued that
movement until she was lying atop me, with my tongue still buried in her very-
delicious pussy. While continuing to pleasure me with her mouth, she would
slowly bring her body to a sitting position. Again, I can't say why that
should be so much more exciting than our usual position, but it certainly was.
Try as I might, I could barely hold back my climax when Ellie was riding my
face in that manner. She was quick to help me, though, and when she sensed I
had reached my limit of stimulation, she'd actually bite the head of my penis
hard enough to distract me. Due to that sort of help from her, I was able to
keep from cumming for a much longer time than had been normal for me in the
past. That my wife appreciated my ability to hold off, with her help, of
course, was shown when she reached orgasm every night during the five days
preceding Glenda's visit. I had no idea why she was so interested in sex
during that period, but I was glad of it.
Glenda arrived right on schedule, on a Friday afternoon while I was at work.
Since I am in a senior management position with my company, it would have been
a simple thing for me to take off work to be there to welcome our visitor, but
when I offered to do so, Ellie declined, saying she wanted Glenda all to
herself for a few hours before she had to share her with me. That sounded
perfectly reasonable to me, so I kept to my usual schedule.
I arrived home at my usual time of 6:00 in the evening, and was met at the
door by Ellie and Glenda. I'd been prepared for seeing a beautiful young
woman, but the stunning, vibrant creature introduced to me by my wife simply
took away my breath. She had gorgeous auburn hair, full red lips, and breasts
to die for. Her height was the equal of my own, which is one inch less than
six feet, which further increased her commanding presence. It was all I could
do to return her greetings and firm handshake, and I'm sure she could feel the
trembling in my hand as we made contact.
She was the mistress of the situation, and smoothed over any fumbling on my
part. Soon we were seated in the living room, Ellie and I side by side on the
couch, and Glenda sitting across from us in one of the two overstuffed chairs
on the opposite side of the coffee table. Mixed drinks and appetizers had
already been placed on the table, and I was glad of the diversion they
provided. The snacks and drinks gave me a much-needed chance to catch my
breath and get my thoughts in order.
We chatted easily, after I overcame my initial nervousness, with our guest
usually leading the conversation. I found it particularly engrossing to listen
to her tales of her former job at a medical clinic in Philadelphia, where she
had been a psychiatric nurse. As she told of the patients she'd counseled
there, it was easy to see the concern she had for them.
She described the clinic as one that specialized in treating gender-dysphoric
men and women. When I said I wasn't familiar with that area of medicine, she
described it by saying her patients were people who were born as one sex or
the other, but believed strongly they were of the opposite sex. She said in
her experience those she had contact with always described their condition as
"being born in the wrong body."
Glenda told us that about two years ago she had become increasingly
unsatisfied with the traditional responses that medical practitioners gave
when they confronted one of the patients. She said the doctors seemed to
approach every case with the mindset that the patient was merely "confused,"
and the correct course of treatment was to make him or her accept their
physical sex, regardless of their mental orientation. She thought that
approach was not only wrong, it was life-threatening.
A few of the people she had counseled, and who had been refused gender-
reassignment surgery by the doctors, had actually attempted suicide. After the
fourth time that had happened, Glenda made the decision to resign her
position, and to offer private counseling. That's what she'd been doing ever
since, and as she talked, it was obvious to me that she was extremely
satisfied, and actually even excited, by her work. Given my own state of mind
when thinking of my job, and what I knew of the employees under me, I knew
just how rare such a thing was. I told her I was glad she'd found such a
rewarding line of work, and hoped she'd continue to find it just as exciting
in the years to come.
We continued our conversation during the excellent meal both women served a
few minutes later. It was when the dessert course was served that Glenda said
casually that she would have to be leaving us for a few hours that evening,
since she had an appointment for a counseling session. That apparently was the
reason for her visit to our city, and why she had called Ellie to see if we
could get together during her time here.
She then said, "Ellie, why don't you come with me? I can guarantee it'll be a
fun time for you, and maybe you can even help me. There'll be three men at the
session, and I'm sure there would be plenty for you to do. How about it?"
My wife didn't hesitate in the least, which made me momentarily wonder if the
two women had discussed the idea beforehand, and were using this invitation as
a way of giving me a chance to make an objection. I had none, of course, and
when Ellie said she'd love to go along if I had no other plans, I told her to
go ahead. I was sure I'd be fine left to my own devices, since I had a new
book to read.
I even offered to clear the table and put the dinnerware in the dishwasher so
they could take care of their preparations for their evening out. Ellie came
to my chair then and kissed me warmly, thanking me for being such a good
husband. Glenda agreed with her, and said something about me being a "jewel"
of a man, and how lucky her friend was to have married me. I loved hearing
that sort of stuff, and my brain was euphoric as I cleared the table.
In less than half an hour, the two were back to say their good-byes. Ellie was
her usual pretty self, but Glenda was simply overwhelming in her beauty. I'd
always been proud when in public with my wife, and was pleased by the admiring
glances she attracted. However, when she stood there beside her friend, there
was no comparison. Glenda was simply breathtaking in her beauty.
She was wearing a short green dress that set off her greenish-gold eyes, and
somehow even accentuated the auburn highlights in her hair. The dress was made
of a material that was almost velvet in texture, of a solid Kelly green in
color, except for ruffled cuffs that were fashioned of a brilliant white lace.
The same lace outlined her bodice, which was so low cut that it revealed
almost half of each of her ample breasts. The amount that was revealed told me
that she was wearing no other garment between her flesh and the dress, and it
was obvious that her globes were very much self-supporting.
Probably the most stunning parts of her outfit, though, were the boots she was
wearing. They were probably thigh-high, but I couldn't tell since they
disappeared under her short skirt. They were made of highly-polished black
leather, which gleamed so much that I was sure they would show the reflection
of my face were I to fall to my knees in front of the angel who was wearing
them.
That thought snapped me back to reality, and the guilty look on my face must
have been amusing to the two women. They looked at each other, smiling and
laughing softly. Finally Ellie said, "She's beautiful, isn't she?"
My heartfelt, emotion-laden response of, "God, yes," made them laugh even
more, and I'm sure my face was blushing with embarrassment. Rather than react
in a jealous manner, my wife said simply, "I've always known it. She's one of
a kind, and I love her all the more for it." That last statement seemed to be
as emotionally-charged as my own, and I stood there with my mind a blank,
trying to fathom the hidden meanings that seemed to be there.
At last they said their farewells, and walked out the door. Glenda had picked
up a briefcase that was beside the door, and she carried it easily, looking
for all the world like a salesperson going out on a call. I knew if that were
the case, any customers would find it impossible to resist her sales pitch.
I finished my chores, and then sat on the couch absently watching television
and trying to read my book. It was a waste of time, though, since the images
of Glenda kept racing through my mind's eye. After awhile, I must have fallen
asleep on the couch, and the dream I had demonstrated vividly the state of my
fevered brain.
I was lying on our bed, naked and on my back, with my monstrously-erect penis
bobbing back in forth in its arousal. Glenda was standing beside me, dressed
just as she had been that evening. As I watched in fascination, she very
slowly and sensuously began to roll one of her lace cuffs toward her elbow.
Over and over she folded the cloth sleeve, until at last it had reached a
point where her entire lower arm was exposed.
She offered the arm to me, and I worshipped it with my kisses, even licking it
in my passion. She pulled away, and then repeated her actions on her other
arm, stopping only when that sleeve was also above her elbow. Again she
presented her bare arm to me to worship, and again I did so to the best of my
ability.
This time when she pulled back, Ellie was standing there looking down at me
with a severe expression on her face. In a soft whisper, she said, "So this is
how you remain faithful, is it? You'll be sorry."
She then said to her friend, "He needs to be punished for what he made you
do."
Glenda placed her briefcase on the bed beside me, and as she opened it and
reached inside, she replied, "That's why I'm here, my love. His time has
come."
I awoke with a start then, my body bathed in a cold sweat. The dream was so
vivid that I actually looked around to see if the two women were there in the
room with me, but I was alone. The only evidence of my dream was betrayed by
the tent in my trousers, and I knew my cock was as hard as it had been in
years. A sense of embarrassment warred with my arousal, until I finally
decided it was time to go to bed. And so I did.
Sleep was difficult to attain, but I finally slipped off. To the best of my
memory, I didn't have that dream again, or any other. In fact, my next memory
is of somebody being in the bed with me, and then of hands pulling down my
undershorts. It was a warm summer night, and my shorts were the only thing I
was wearing, so I was quickly naked.
Before I could come even half awake, I felt a mouth close over my semi-erect
penis, drawing it inside a moist, warm place. Even though the room was dark, I
could tell by the subtle clues of scent, touch, and sound that it was my wife
who was favoring me. She seemed almost frantic in her efforts, and before more
than a few seconds had passed, she swung one leg over my body and lowered her
crotch to my face.
I needed no instructions to begin licking her fevered, extremely wet pussy,
and soon the sounds of her moans of arousal covered any other. I'm sure I was
still feeling arousal from the very-exciting dream I'd had earlier, and what
was happening then was very erotic to me. I wanted to lick and suck as hard as
I could, but was able to follow the instructions Ellie had given me in the
preceding days. Soon my efforts were rewarded by her even more frantic efforts
to suck my cock completely off my body, while pressing her vagina so
forcefully against me that I almost suffocated.
That she was very aroused was demonstrated by the fact that she reached orgasm
without ever having to delay mine by biting my cock, as she had been doing in
previous days. Her spasms seemed to go on forever, with my mouth being tightly
covered by her pussy, and my nose being buried in her backside all the time.
When she finally lifted up a slight amount, I gasped for breath.
Before I could cum, she pulled her mouth away from me. It was quickly replaced
by her hand, and she stroked me only once or twice before my own orgasm
erupted. I didn't realize until I was spent that she had been squeezing my
balls viciously during the entire time, and the pain that shot through my
abdomen was just further proof of her arousal.
At last she moved to lie beside me, both of us panting for breath and
struggling to regain our composure. I turned to her, whispering softly, "That
was wonderful, honey. Why were you so turned on tonight? I haven't seen you
like that for years, if ever. What did you two do, anyway?"
She didn't answer for awhile, and I thought that maybe she wasn't going to. At
last, however, she replied, "It was just a fun time to talk to Glennie again.
I've really missed her. I guess that thinking of you here in bed just got me
hot, and I couldn't keep my hands off you."
That didn't do much to explain her extreme arousal, but both of us were too
sleepy by then to spend any more time on the subject. She rolled to her
stomach, said a quiet good night, and fell asleep immediately. I lay there
waiting for the throbbing in my balls to subside, and then after awhile joined
her.
To be continued. . .
* * * |
UNK House (gay, penectomy, college) | My name is Ivan. At the end of my senior year in high school I began to
receive my letters of acceptance to various colleges and universities. This
was a time to change and time to leave old friends and make new ones. I wasn't
sure what school I wanted to go to, but I had it narrowed down to 3 schools. I
visited each and weighed the pros and cons of attending each one. I wanted to
be in a fraternity and while visiting each campus I scoped out the fraternity
rows of my prospective schools.
I felt all three schools had many things in favor of my attending each, but I
decided that the school for me was going to be a private university called the
Gordon Malston School of Science. It is a very prestigious institution and the
graduates often go on to have incredibly successful careers. This decision
would later prove to be a turning point in my life.
I enjoyed my last summer at home, said goodbye to my friends and set off for
Malston. Initially I decided to live in the dorms, but had my eyes set on
joining one of the many fraternities on campus. The second week of school was
rush week. I decided to rush 2 or 3 houses, but one in particular piqued my
interest. Upsilon Nu Kappa, I decided, was the house for me.
At their booth in the student union, I was invited to attend an introductory
party at the UNK house. The guys seemed friendly, and were looking for
freshmen that could continue the spirit of UNK house. I arrived at the house
about 15 minutes after the party started (I didn't want to seem to eager).
About 80 freshmen were invited to the party, and I was told by some of the
members of UNK that only about 20 of us would eventually become members of
UNK. They liked to consider themselves an elite fraternity, one that not only
participates in traditional Greek society, but also gives about twice what the
other houses on campus did to the local community.
I was introduced to a junior brother named Brad. He took me around UNK house
and showed me the layout and the wall of fame. This wall was the place that
the high achievers of UNK were honored. Usually to earn a place on this wall,
the member would have excelled in academics or sports. There was something odd
about the photos on the wall. Those that excelled in sports looked extremely
masculine, but those that made high marks academically seemed to have softer
features. Initially I thought this odd, but I shrugged it off.
As my tour continued I was shown various things, I saw some member bedrooms,
the bathrooms, kitchen, living area, and laundry room. There was one room I
was curious about, but Brad said that I would have to wait until I was a
member to see what was in there, because that room was for members only. My
curiosity was running full steam now. I had to become a member of this
fraternity so I knew what happened in that room.
We all partied well into the early morning and I returned to my dorm room.
About a week later I was invited back to UNK for another party. I noticed that
out of the original 80 that there were now only 40. It was explained to us
that some of these people had pledged other houses and that some were simply
not called back. I was excited. I made the initial cut! They also explained
that they couldn't take all 40 of us into the house, and that another 20 of us
would be taken off the pledge list. This would not happen until after the
party tonight, and those who were successful would be notified during the next
week.
We were told to enjoy ourselves at this party, there was going to be a
scavenger hunt and the 3 most successful pledges would be guaranteed entrance
into the house. I thought this would be difficult, but at least I would have
fun doing it. There were several items on the list, and it seemed like an odd
assortment. There were many items that you would find on a farm, some things
in a music store, and yet other things you would find in a hardware store. I
was expecting an assortment more along the lines of the swiping of stop signs,
egging a rival fraternity house and the like.
I was paired with 2 other guys named Charlie and Todd. Our list was made up of
5 items. First was a piano wire, the next was a folding table, third was a
pair of pliers, fourth was 2 lengths of rope, the last item was emasculator
rings from the farm supply store. We had until the next afternoon at 12 to
collect our items, and those that finished first would be guaranteed a space
in the house.
I later learned that every group had an odd item, to see if our desire to be
part of the UNK house was true. Ours was the emasculator rings, a couple other
groups had to find surgical instruments, and yet others had razors and odd
shaving items. Later I would find out that these lists were crafted, as they
were to keep us from having enough items to figure out what they wanted to do.
The emasculator rings should have been the clue, but I was so eager to get
into UNK that nothing seemed to matter.
By noon the next day, the 3 of us returned to UNK and handed over our items.
We were told to come back later that night to attend another short party.
I went to class that afternoon, and just daydreamed about the party that
night. I must have only taken about 1/3 of a page of notes for a class that I
normally would have taken 5 or 6. I was so eager to see the house again and to
find out if I would make it in.
After supper, I showered and got ready for the party. I arrived about a
quarter after eight and the 20 people left on the list of rushees were
gathered into the living room and the announcement was made. They went down
the list. This was the list of those who had made it into the fraternity. My
name came last; I was worried for a second that they might have changed their
minds about allowing me in. I was elated, I had become a member of a nice,
small fraternity.
As the announcement went on, they explained what was expected of us as
pledges. We would be required to clean the house for the next month, do the
chores normally reserved for our sponsoring brother (in my case, Brad), and on
the final night of our hell month, we would be required to be present at the
house for a full 24 hour period. Over the course of the next month we would
find out what our life in UNK would be all about. What it means to be a UNK
brother, and for those of us that didn't live up to the standard, well, we
wouldn't be making the final cut.
The initiation rite was about to begin. We were finally allowed to see the
members only room. It was a rather sterile looking place, but looked as if it
was used for team showering or something. There were no shower stalls in the
back of the room, but there was a wall about 1/2 way to the ceiling outlining
one corner of the large room. The inside of this area was finished with tiles
and had 5 showerheads coming out of the wall.
We were ordered to strip, and in four groups of five, we were taken into the
stall by our sponsoring brothers and cleansed of our daily grime. Next the
first of the instruments was brought in. We were told this was the first of
two rituals to be performed. This first ritual was to completely shave our
bodies. We were told that once shaven, it was our responsibility to keep our
bodies hairless for the entire month. Before the water was turned on, our
sponsors received a pair of scissors with which to cut the longer hairs from
our bodies. Mostly our pubic hair. After this task was finished, we were
allowed to shower and were encouraged to soap up really well, all over.
After that task was completed. The water was turned off, and our sponsors got
out razors and began to shave our hair away. This was highly erotic, and I
never felt that I could get aroused near another man. But low and behold, I
started to get an erection. When the razor hit my balls, my soft erection
suddenly became a raging hard-on. I was so embarrassed! But then I looked
around, and saw that I wasn't the only pledge that was having this problem.
Once we were finished shaving, we were taken out to the living area, and we
watched TV. Of course, we didn't just watch the nightly news. The brothers had
provided us with pornos to watch. I was really beginning to feel that this
place wouldn't be so bad. I mean, I have to shave my body, but that isn't that
bad if all I have to do is that and some chores to watch pornos all night
long.
The pledges were required to remain naked, but most of the rest of the
brothers just lounged around in their underwear. I looked around the room. The
pledges were all sporting hard-ons at the sight on the screen. Most of the
brothers were as well. One brother even had his cock out and was beating off
to the sights. I kept looking around, and all the brothers were sporting hard-
ons through their shorts, all but one. The president of the fraternity didn't
have one. And I thought this odd. He must have one really TINY pecker.
Over the course of the next month we maintained our cleaning responsibilities
and daily hygiene rituals. We were told that hygiene was very important for
the final initiation into the UNK house. If we didn't comply with the orders
of our senior brothers, we would be forced out.
During the second week of hell month, we were tested. They wanted to see if
any of us would engage in homosexual acts. Of course, we were required to
perform these acts upon our fellow pledges and not on our brothers. The key to
the test was that if we didn't perform at least one homosexual act, we would
be turned out of the fraternity.
I have always felt a bit confused about my feelings sexually, and decided to
use this opportunity to explore this facet or sexuality. They started us off
with easy things like giving mild massages and the like, by the end of the
week they had us lining each other up to receive blowjobs.
As it turned out, I liked to give my fellow pledges good head. I actually
enjoyed it greatly. This is what sealed it up for me, I was definitely gay. I
had not known this before, but something seemed very right about it. Just the
fact that I was a man made the ability to pleasure another man increase
significantly. After all, a man knows what a man likes to feel. There was
definitely no turning back now.
During the third week of hell month, we were ordered to begin wearing a device
around our ball sacks known as a ball stretcher. I didn't know what purpose
this would serve, but I guessed it would make my balls hang a bit lower than
they normally did. All the while our brothers were telling us what a nice
addition to the UNK house we were gonna be once the initiation was over. I was
so excited, I was about to become a full-fledged member of the fraternity.
Week 4 was rather uneventful. We continued to wear our ball stretchers and
performed all the chores we were told to. The highlight of this week was the
party to be held that Saturday night. What was even more exciting was that we
were to be paired up with a pledge from our sister sorority at the conclusion
of the evening.
I could hardly wait! The end was very near, and after that I would be
confirmed as a brother in the UNK fraternity. The last few days went by and
seemed like an eternity, but finally the big night had arrived.
We were all ordered to remove our ball stretchers that evening. The party was
to begin at 7 PM and we were to be wearing the clothes that were laid out on
the beds in our sponsoring brothers room. We all showed up that evening
wearing the shorts and T-shirts that were provided to us. We were allowed to
mingle among the guests and do whatever we wanted to until midnight. At
midnight the final initiation rite was to occur. I could hardly wait, after
midnight I would forever be a member of the UNK fraternity.
What I found odd at the party was that we had about 80 guys present (including
the pledges) but only 20 women were there. When midnight approached, everyone
headed into the "secret" meeting room. It was set up with all the things that
were gathered during the scavenger hunt a month earlier. When I saw what was
gathered I was a bit uneasy, but determined to finish my initiation.
The pledges, including myself, were tied to the wall with the ropes. On the
floor next to each place on the wall was a clear tube. I wasn't sure what they
intended to do with it, but we were told to wait until the lottery had been
held, and then we would know.
The women were the ones holding the lottery. They each were to draw lots from
a hat with a number on them. This sufficiently randomized the number they were
to receive. The number that each drew corresponded to a place on the wall.
Once the numbers were drawn, the president of the fraternity spoke to the
crowd.
He Said, "Tonight is the night that we initiate our 20 new brothers into the
Upsilon Nu Kappa fraternity. For those who have not figured it out, this is a
gay fraternity. If this is not what you intended to join, or you are
uncomfortable being a part of this fraternity, speak now and you'll be allowed
to leave..."
Nobody spoke. Apparently the conditioning over the last month seemed to
diminish the phobias of the men that were here to become members.
"The women you see before you are all lesbians. When they joined their
sorority, they went though a selection process that weeded out those who did
not want to have children. Tonight, these women are here to 'harvest' your
semen so that they may use it to create a child. They are not required to be
impregnated immediately, but if they choose to do that, they may..."
I was slightly intrigued by this, I had always wanted to be a father, but
since I made my final discovery this month, I wondered how I would do it.
"Now, you will be given your last chance to back out of being a member of the
UNK house. Once you go past this point, you will not be given another chance
to leave until the initiation ritual concludes later this evening..."
I was amazed, nobody asked to be released. It was amazing to me that all these
men would be willing to father a child with a woman they still had not
formally met.
"Let the final initiation begin..."
With that, the women came up to us one by one and took their place. I was
paired with a brunette, about 5'3" tall, and average height and build. She was
fairly attractive, but by no means a super model.
She just smiled at me and said, "You are a very attractive stud, it will be a
joy to bear your child."
With that, she began to jack me off, at first very slowly, then faster. She
told me that I had better let her know when I was about to cum, so that she
could capture all of my seed in the tube. I was experiencing pure ecstasy, and
I almost forgot to tell her when I was coming.
She jerked me harder and faster until all at once I screamed out, "NOW! I'm
gonna shoot... uuuhhhhnnnn..." She held the tube to the end of my cock, and I
watched my sperm shoot into the clear vial. She just grinned widely and said,
"I hope it was good for you, it's the last one you're gonna get for a long
time..." I didn't understand what she meant by that, but I had a feeling with
the look on our sponsor brothers eyes, that it wasn't something good.
As the women stepped away, our sponsors came up to us with small containers.
They opened up the containers and what I saw in there stuck a sense of panic
in my mind. There were scalpels, suturing needles and thread, and sterile
bandages and the like. I figured whatever it was they were gonna do to us, was
fairly major.
Our sponsors and all the guests stripped naked at this point, and we were
allowed to have one hand released. With this hand, we were instructed to feel
the bodies of our sponsors. We were told to pay close attention to what we
were feeling, because when we felt something different, we were to know what
was to be coming for us. It was made know that it was important to feel all
over, and if there was a part that we wanted to feel, the sponsor was to let
us do so. All this time the president of the fraternity remained behind a
table, his nakedness outside our view.
I began to touch Brad all over. I started at his head. I felt the scalp, his
face, and his shoulders and was about to move to his chest. Suddenly I heard
someone yell, "NO!, you're not going to do that to us!, dear God no!" I
stopped cold, looked at what part of the body that the guy five men down from
me was touching. I turned very pale for he was touching the ballsack of his
sponsor. I immediately touched Brad's genitals. My worst fears were confirmed.
He didn't have testicles. The big secret of the UNK house was that all the
brothers were eunuchs.
Most of the men wanted out right then, but then I remembered something, the
fraternity president had said that none of were going to be released until the
initiation rite was completed. As it turned out, this rite was castration.
I now looked around, I was number five. As the president stood up to finish
telling us about the initiation another shocking sight was revealed. The
fraternity president, although he looked quite masculine and built, didn't
have any genitals. He had not only been castrated, but his cock was removed as
well.
The president spoke, "I know it is shocking, but we are not only a gay
fraternity, but a fraternity of eunuchs as well. No brother in our fraternity
has testicles. It is going to be a shock to you, but you'll be too
embarrassed, initially, to tell anyone that your balls have been cut off. This
helps us keep our little secret, and one day, you'll be so glad that you are
not controlled by those things, that you'll voluntarily keep the secret..."
He continued, "There is also a requirement to be the president of this
fraternity. As you can see, my cock has been removed. I am sexually nullified.
To be president, you must have your cock removed. It is the highest honor of
the UNK house. Tonight, we prepare our next president to take over..."
"I would now like to introduce you all to our next president. Brad, will you
willing give up your last signs of maleness to be our president?"
Brad just smiled and nodded in agreement.
"Brad will be having his cock removed after the last rite of initiation of our
new members. Let's proceed..."
The castrations began by all of us having elastrator bands placed on our
scrotums. We were told that as time passed, the balls would die if we didn't
remove the bands. Some guy begged to have the bands released. Those please
fell upon deaf ears. Fortunately for all of us, we were given a shot of
anesthetic to relieve any pain.
It appeared that the castrations would be done one-by-one down the line. I was
to be the fifth one to lose my masculinity. We were all in awe, and filled
with fright, as the sponsor of the first pledge stepped up to his man. He
looked at the sack, made sure the ring was secure, and the picked up a piano
wire. He placed the wire around the scrotum and pulled tightly. In one short
plop, the balls of the first man were no longer on him.
The second man had his balls removed with a knife. Like the first, his balls
were placed in a small jar of preservative. Unlike the first man he wasn't
wimpering. He actually seemed content to have it done.
I watched the third and forth guys lose their balls. They both pleaded, but
oddly, I was becoming very aroused at this sight. My cock got very stiff. When
Brad came to me he removed a scalpel from his box. I watched intently as he
cut into my scrotum. He made a circular incision around the base near the
band, and pulled my sack off my body. Then he proceeded to tie off the cords
to my left testicle. Then he took the scalpel, and in one swift movement,
severed the nut from my body.
It was at this point that I said something. I looked at Brad and said, "put
your ear near me, I want to whisper something to you..."
Brad Complied. Then I said, "I am turned on by all of this. Would it be
possible to let me take the scalpel and cut of my last ball?"
He smiled, then removed the ropes from my hand and handed me the scalpel. I
couldn't believe it. Here I was, ready to make myself a eunuch, and just an
hour before I was very scared about the idea. Now I was so horny about it,
that it would be no problem for me to emasculate myself.
I took the thread, and tied off the blood vessels and cord to my remaining
testicle. I then picked up the scalpel, placed it just below the tied off
portion of my cords, and applied pressure. Slowly, wanting to savor the
moment, I cut off my last testicle, and by doing so, relegated my self to the
life of a eunuch.
It seemed very foreign to me to look down at my crotch and see just my hard
cock, and no balls hanging under it. I couldn't believe it, I just aided in
cutting off my balls. And in some ways it was very liberating. I then walked
away from my bonds at the wall and watched the remaining 15 men become
eunuchs.
They all pleaded not to be emasculated, but to no avail. One of them, I think
it was number 14, Came as his balls were being cut from his body. That was an
amazing sight, a man spurting his last load of semen as a complete man, and
finishing the load as a eunuch.
During the next half-hour, the jars were labeled, sealed, and picked up and
placed on the table at the front of the room. The president welcomed all of us
into the UNK fraternity.
It was awesome looking at that table and seeing forty recently severed
testicles in jars. It was amazing that in this room sat 20 fresh eunuchs, and
with them their 60 eunuch brothers.
For the final act of the night, Brad was taken, placed on a different table,
and all watched in amazement as the president of the fraternity catheterized
his cock, injected anesthetic, and cut around the base.
I was once again awestruck when I watched Brad's 9 inch, uncircumcised cock
slide up the catheter. Brad had a look of complete satisfaction watching his
cock slide up and away from his body forever.
That was a night I'll never forget. I am very happy now being a eunuch. The
woman who took my seed that night gave birth to a healthy baby boy one year
later. I get to see my son nearly everyday, and he is a happy child. I'm a
very proud papa. The one thing my family will never know, is that I am
incapable of giving my son another sibling to play with.
One day, when he is college age, I hope he can find his way to Malston, and
into the UNK house. If he does, I hope he is prepared to go as far as I am.
You see, Tomorrow is the initiation night for the new class of pledges, and at
the end of the evening, I'm having my cock cut off. |
||
The reign of the Patriarch | GAY | Two brothers, caught fucking in a puritanical society are to be transformed into sex toys as their punishment. The surgery and training continue | The reign of the patriarch. Part 3.
Chapter 5. Education.
I lay helpless on the floor, a tangle of limbs that didn’t work as
they should, trying to understand a body that was different from what
I had ever known. A naked man came in, or at least one who had once
been a man, now he was a eunuch as so many seemed to be in this
underground hospital. Like Paul and me he had been treated so that
he was hairless, but unlike us he could still speak. He explained
why.
“I’m your handler and trainer” he told me. “Dog handler, that is, and
for that reason I need a voice. It’s my job to make a good dog of
you and yours to obey, but you’ll find it easier than you think
because you have had deep hypnosis as we all have here. You WILL
enjoy a dog’s life! Now, first things first, we have to teach you
the basics, walking, eating and house-training. There’s no point in
trying to stand erect – we’ve altered your hips and shoulders so that
your natural position is on all fours. Your arms face front instead
of sideways and are now your front legs, and the changes to your hips
mean that you will never be able to put your legs straight down as
you used to. Get used to four legs!”
“Put your feet flat on the floor” he told me,” and your front paws on
the floor too. Arms straight!” I obeyed and found that I was
sitting in a strangely comfortable position. My handler – I never
knew his name, for I had no voice to use it. He was, for the time
being, MASTER. - Master patted me on the head and said encouragingly
“GOOD dog, good girl. At the command SIT you will take up this
position and stay there until I release you. Now,” he said, “keep
your front paws where they are and stand on your toes”.
I obeyed his instruction and found it again more comfortable than I
had expected. When I looked down at my feet I found that they were
narrower than I had believed possible – the two outer toes and all
the bones that led to them had been removed and I had a slender lower
leg leading to the backward pointing knee that had been my heel.
“Head up” was the next command, and he buckled a heavy leather collar
around my neck. “Since you will spend the rest of your life on four
legs, you need to look forward, not down, and your neck muscles have
been modified so you can do it comfortably”. It felt un-natural to
me, so my master put a harness behind what were now my forelegs and
clipped the collar to it. I had to hold my head up in the right
position or choke. “Now,” said master” we learn to walk”.
He put a lead on the front of my collar and pulled, and I had to move
forward on my toes and the paws that were all that remained of my
hands. Slowly and awkwardly I followed him, falling over once or
twice but being picked up and helped to start again. I began to get
the hang of it, and he said “enough for today. Now you can eat”. He
led me across to a corner of the room where he placed two bowls on
the floor, one for food and the other water. “From now on, this is
how you eat” he said. “ Enjoy it”. He emptied food into my bowl and
unclipped my collar from the harness so that I could lower my head to
eat from the dish. I discovered another modification – my tongue was
longer than it had ever been and it was possible for me to eat and
drink from the bowls without too much difficulty. It was the first
solid food I could remember having in ages and I wolfed it down. My
new master then led me across to the corner where there was a hole in
the floor and told me to squat over it. “This is your lavatory” he
told me. “You will learn to control bladder and bowels until you can
use it, and any failure of housetraining will be severely punished.
Since you cannot lick yourself clean yet, we will send a slave to
clean you.”
Whilst I was eating I had heard noises behind me, and when I looked
round, the hospital bed had disappeared. A dog bed had taken its
place and I knew that from now on, this was how I would sleep.
I crept across to it and curled up, desperately aching and exhausted
after the first day of my new life.
When I awoke, I was more stiff and weary than I could ever remember.
My first workouts at the gym were nothing compared with this. I
whimpered, and MASTER came in with another man. “This slave is here
to help you until you can look after yourself,” I was told. “Take a
good look at him and see what happens to those who are disobedient”.
The slave was one of those with balls but no cock and who had
therefore been left with constant sexual frustration. He was ordered
to open his mouth for me and I saw that he had neither teeth nor
tongue. Apparently he had been found licking the ass of another
slave without permission and in his anger when stopped had bitten a
handler, so both tongue and teeth had been removed as a punishment
and as a warning to others. All the slaves had been assembled to
watch and the removals done without anaesthetic to make a proper show
of it. Since then, all the slaves had been very careful.
I whimpered again. I was so stiff I could just barely crawl out of
my bed and sprawl on the floor. Slave picked me up and carried me to
empty bladder and bowels, then into the shower room where for a while
I simply lay enjoying the soothing flow of the water, until I was
lifted again, soaped and washed. Then Slave threw me on to a couch
and began to massage the stiffness out of my muscles.
This luxury lasted for far too short a time until I was collared and
put down on my four paws to practice walking again, my head erect
because of the harness, and a chain attached to my collar.
“We have a treat for you today.” said MASTER. “The treadmill.” It
was a simple walking machine such as one might see in any gym. My
collar was attached to chains on either side so that I had to stand
properly, then a wire was fixed across an inch or so below my empty
groin. I stood there on all fours. MASTER pushed my back down until
I touched the wire and I felt as if I had been hit with a whip. “The
wire is charged, as you notice. You will remain upright and on all
fours and walk for thirty minutes at the speed I set.” He set the
treadmill to a slow walking pace and I began to walk, every step
agony because I was so stiff, but aware that if I stopped and fell or
failed to keep my balance I would touch that terrible wire. Once I
got the rhythm it was not too bad, but thirty minutes seemed like
thirty hours”. At last MASTER came to release me. “Enough of that
for the moment. You can have an hour’s rest, then another half hour
a bit faster”
He took hold of my tail and told me that this was my next exercise.
“This is a masterpiece. We stimulated the tail bones at the base of
your spine and made them grow, then grafted muscle from your thighs
to make it work. The skin is what we are really proud of, though.
We used that stretched scrotum but grafted it across your thighs so
that we kept all the nerves intact and we could use it both for the
new lips on your ass and to give you a sexually sensitive tail. His
Holiness’s ladies will love it. Now you have to learn to use those
new muscles.”
For the next hour I had to try to make my tail work and the reward
for failure was to have it stroked with a lightly charged wire. The
pain still came through my groin and I felt as if my scrotum had been
brushed with acid. It was a great incentive to learn to use my tail,
but most of what he wanted seemed impossible. It was a relief for a
moment to go back on to the treadmill, but that relief lasted only
for minutes as my exhausted muscles started to fail me and I touched
the wire again and again.
At last I was released, and I was so obviously exhausted that MASTER
called for Slave to carry me back to my room. My food and water
bowls were full but I was too tired even to think about eating. I
crawled to my bed.
“Slave will massage you, then you have the whole afternoon to
recover. If I were you I would practice those tail exercises –
tomorrow I increase the voltage on the stroker.”
Slave gently stroked my forehead with a look of great sympathy, then
removed my collar and harness so that I could at last put my head
down. With great strength but remarkable kindness he began to
massage my aching body. All I could do by way of response was a
loving whine, and when his hand came within reach, to lick it –
somehow it seemed natural to lick the hand of a human, and I had
begun to realise that I would never be human again.
After the massage, when I began to feel a little better, Slave
carried me across to where my food bowls were and by gestures
encouraged me to eat and drink. As a parting reminder he stroked my
tail, and, taking it in his hand moved it as a reminder that I had to
do my exercises. His gentle touch made me aware that I had at least
one source of pleasure left to me, for his stroking my tail was
wonderfully sensuous.
I spent the afternoon trying to work out how to make my tail muscles
work, though for part of the time I was in an exhausted doze, but all
too soon I was dragged from my bed for a repeat of the morning’s
workout. At last it was over and Slave was allowed to shower and
feed me, and I dropped into an exhausted sleep.
Day after day I was worked out in this way, always tired, for as my
muscles grew accustomed to their new uses the speed of the treadmill
was increased and varied so that I was always stretched to the limit.
I did, however learn to use my tail, and after being taken off to the
psychologists laboratories (where nothing happened except a
wonderfully restful sleep) I found that when I was happy I
automatically wagged my tail and normally carried it up and erect
instead of simply hanging as it had at first. I loved my tail and
still do.
It only took a few days to learn to keep my head up, but weeks to
accustom my body to its new uses. Then one morning I awoke to find
that it was so natural and right to run around on my four legs with
tail wagging and head proudly erect that I could hardly remember
standing upright. Slave had become a good and caring friend and I
was proud to obey MASTER. I could walk, run, sit and lie to
MASTER’S command, my bowl was always full of nourishing food, and I
felt that I could ask for nothing more than I had. When I did things
right, I was rewarded with a biscuit or a pat on the head and the
punishments had almost ceased. I was happy and content as MASTER had
told me I would be.
Then came the blow. MASTER said to me
“I have done all I can to train you as a good dog. Now you have to
go on for advanced training. You have been a good girl and I am
proud of you. Goodbye.”
I have to confess that I wept at the thought of leaving him and I
licked his hand and looked up to him, pleading to stay, but he walked
away without a backward glance. That night I sobbed into my dog-bed
and waited with trepidation for what advanced training might mean.
More to follow if desired. Comments, observations or suggestions
welcomed by [email protected].
Next: Paul’s transformation. |
The Vulvoid Transform - Part 2 | TG | Having endured the horror of becoming a Vulvoid girl, Steven lives out his first day as a panty host. Helpless because of breast control she is made to masturbate to feed her living panties and experience Vulvoid reproduction first hand.... | The Vulvoid Transform - Part 2
By Lisa James
After my horrific transformation was complete I lay spread legged on the
ground as the two Genetech henchmen opened the back of the van. Where I once
had a penis and scrotum I now had a bald vulva - utterly female and feeling
precisely how it looked, like a flat mouth between my legs. I regained some
composure and managed to pull the panties down my legs and off. Although
relatively still they still seemed to be alive, the gusset occasionally moving
as if breathing. I threw them onto the grass and began to sob again. They were
all staring at me and specifically between my legs - the Genetech men and the
young man who had just watched my sex change. I closed my legs and again felt
my new labia lips touch together - a sensation that I could barely believe I
was feeling and hated utterly.
'Put those panties back on now and get in the van!' yelled one of the men
'You've got to be joking you bastard! Im a girl! These fucking panties have
ruined my body! I have to get to a doctor! I have to change back into a
male!!! Oh god! My voice, Ive got a girls voice!!! Pleeeeasseee help
meeee!!!!' I wailed desperately whilst alternately clutching at my throat, my
breasts and between my legs.
'Forget it bitch! Its irreversable so youd better get used to it. I hear the
first vaginal orgasm is pretty great, did you find that? hehehehehe' he
laughed and of course I screamed. 'Enough talk! The doc wants to see you now,
put your panties back on and get in the van!'
'You bastards! You cant! Oh god no! I wont! I..... ahhh!!!!' I replied only to
be choked short by another horrendous sensation. I gasped as I looked at two
misplaced mounds on my chests that were another graphic reminder of my new sex
- my breasts. Again my nipples expand and I had that same helpless feeling as
my body moved against my wishes and picked the panties back up again.
Shuddering against the revulsion the panties made me feel I robotically
slipped my legs through the panties leg holes and began pulling them back up
my legs. I watched them as they drew closer to my bald cunt, seeing the slight
quiver to the edges and the faint movement in the gusset. My eyes flicked
between seeing this superbly female mound and the panties coming to rest over
the very place they had previously embraced a penis. This time a vulva
welcomed their touchdown and the panties seemed to cup and grab the very mound
as they finally came to rest. I was breathless watching the erotic event
whilst tortured to know this was no movie I was seeing, it was a desolately
flat and invasive female sex organ between my own previously male legs! As if
to prove their claim the panties seemed to mould themselves momentarily to my
cunt's every contour - sucking into my vulva slit and feeling like they were
squeezing my vulva as if to say 'I did this to you!'. My body shuddered
upright and despite my desperate efforts to regain control, I walked into the
van and sat, spread legged on a bench seat in the van.
The Genetech men were dragging the young man into the van whilst he began to
act hysterically. I knew he had just seen these very panties change me from a
young man into a sobbing and thoroughly enslaved girl. The men had told him in
no uncertain terms than this is the fate that awaited him and naturally he was
not about to let that happen. 'Get away from me!' he screamed 'I dont know who
the fuck you are, but youre not going to do that to me!' he continued,
pointing at my crotch whilst he backed away. I heard a snap as one of the men
pulled out a gun and loaded a clip, pointing it at the young man.
'Get in the car Mr, or you wont last long enough to even worry about penis
envy!' the Genetch thug said
The young man just broke down and started crying as he reluctantly got into
the van. 'Please dont!' he begged. 'I couldnt bear being turned into a girl!
Please! I can give you money! Anything! But please - not that!' again he
pointed a finger between my legs, but unintentionally he actually touched my
vulva right in the middle of my slit. We both watched in shock and in slow
motion as his stiff finger pushed the panty fabric inside my slit and into my
vagina. This stark reminder of my dramatically different sex organ, the
sensation of another persons body part inside me made me sick with grief. I
began to whimper, as did he knowing that he might soon have the same thing
between his legs. Our eyes locked and I became dizzy with shock... At that
moment it was all just too much and I passed out....
Some time later I woke up lying on a bed in what looked like a doctors office.
I was disoriented for a moment thinking that I had had a really bad dream and
I went to sit up. The weight of my breasts immediately struck me and I looked
down to see the foul appendages gracing my chest, alien and wickedly ripe. My
mind rushed back to the nightmare and I realised that it was in fact a very
real memory. Perhaps I had blocked it out, becuase I screamed again when my
eyes droped from my breasts, across my flat stomach and took in the obviously
female curve of my panty covered crotch. Clearly I no longer had any bulge
from a penis, rather the rounded flatness of a cunt with a cleft of a labia
clearly visible in the clinging panties hugging form. The memories of my
transformation flooded back and I began hyperventilating thinking about what I
had become. Looking around the room I could see a whole series of photos that
were obviously and graphically documenting the process of the sex change. The
first of the series of images showed a close up of a boy's genitals with a
typically sized penis and scrotum. The next few shots showed the same crotch
with a progressively shrinking penis and scrotum. The images began to bring my
own experience back and seeing the images I could remember the feeling of my
own genitals shrinking. Taking in other images in the series that coverd the
wall I could see the scrotum loose its testies, the sack skin thickening up
and obviously becoming some kind of labia precursor. The penis in these shots
was smaller again. The last few shots showed the penis completely absorbed and
the start of a slit in the former scrotum. I touched between my own legs
feeling the terrible organ first hand that I was seeing visually documented on
the photos of some poor past victim. The last few images showed the slit grow
progressively longer, growing from near the arse to the front where it ended
roughly where the victims penis once was. Absently and still in deep shock I
traced the path of my own slit from its end near my arse to the front,
whimpering as I did so. The last shot showed the clear indications of a vagina
as the photographer shot the victims genitals with her legs apart. I was
feeling my own cunt now, touching the very organs I saw in the image.
Shocked at the sensation of my own cunt feeling my own hand touch its surface
I pulled my hand away. Again I felt an electric sensation in my breasts and
saw my nipples become errect. I began to sob again as my hand made its way
between my legs again to cup the female void and began to rub it, forcefully
pushing the panties up and down my slit and squeezing the rounded fuck-mouth
in my hands. I realized I was being forced to masturbate again and had
flashbacks to that first girl on the steps. My vulva felt horrifically wrong -
flat yet so intrusive. Despite my horror I was obviously arroused and
recognized the pathetic swelling of my clitoras at the centre of the heat I
was now feeling. The rubbing built up in intensity and I felt a wetness
leaking from what I knew was my new vagina into my slit and dampening my
panties. The panties themselves began to writhe somewhat and seemed to suck
themselves onto my vulva each time I moaned, cupping my girlhood intimately
and reminding me of their hold over me. I was unable to resist my forced
pleasuring of my cunt and now grabbed my breasts with one hand as I was forced
to continue to massage my terrible girls mouth. Whilst I was forced to
masturbate my cunt I became more and more angry and disbelieving - some part
of my mind stil thought that perhaps somewhere between my legs my penis might
be rediscovered. I felt the vulva desperately feeling for some remenant of my
penis that might somehow be regrown. I was moaning now as wave after wave of
sexual heat flooded through my girlhood. I felt my breasts throbbing in time
with the throbbing of my clitoras as I kneaded my cunt mound and breasts. The
horror of the sensations I was feeling was almost beyind my ability to bear.
Despite my fighting to regain control of my body, to stop my touching the foul
body parts that I now had, I could not. As my orgasm began I screamed a
piteous wail of frustration. The feeling was intense sexual release as I came,
and I bucked my hips involuntarily as I came - flooding my panties with
vaginal lubricant. I could feel a deep rythmic swallowing from my vagina that
was so completely alien compared to my pumping penis ejaculation. I screamed
then cried as the panties compounded the violation by lapping up my sex
fluids, parting my labia lips and hungrilly gorging themselves on my wet cunt.
Quite simply it was the most foul sensation I could invisage, and thinking
about my cunt I realised that what Genetech and the panties had done to me was
so much worse than castration. I had not just lost my penis, my body had been
mutilated with the most unbelievably flat yet intrusive genitals - my cunt,
and my chest forever burdended with the most incredibly burdensome breasts.
Panting, I sat on the bed watching the curvacuous shape of my snatch - a
distinct wet patch around the cleft that the panties clung to that was
obviously my vagina lips. Tears streamed down my face and my hatred of this
girls body grew and grew. I grabbed my breasts and tried to pull them from my
chest. Their grapefruit sized mounds filling my hands and hurting like hell as
I pulled them violently screaming 'get off my body! arghhh!!!! I hate them! I
have to get them off - I hate the feeling!!! you wont force me to do anything
again!!!! arghhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!'. The electric feeling returned and my hands
shuddered to my sides, forcing me to merely sit on the bed again - a prisoner
in a girls body.
Some moments later I heard a click and a male doctor walked in the door. 'Ahh
- you are the new girl' he said as he walked over to me.
'Please help me doctor! I cant bear this feeling - I hate being a girl! Please
change me back!' I whimpered
'Frankly that is impossible for a number of reasons I will explain to you' he
said as I burst into tears again. 'Many girls have come to enjoy the
sensations of their bodies you know.... Most boys would kill to have the
chance to experience a girls body for a while, to feel the girls cunt and
breasts directly....'
'No!!!! Please no!!!! You have stolen my dick! Youve given me a flat mouth in
its place! Youve ruined my chest with these foul mounds!!! You cant leave me
like this!' I screamed back.
'Silence!' he said, and as he did my breasts again took control of my body,
preventing me from speaking. 'You are mine now! The perfect result of my most
amazing achievement - the Vulvoid Panties!' He exclaimed running his eyes over
my body. 'Your body is now host to this amazing new lifeform' he said as he
pointed at the panties between my legs. I stared at them also and again saw
the slight movement of the gusset as it apeared to breathe in and out slightly
puffing up then deflating to better show the curve of my cunt beneath.
'These panties are going to be this governments most powerful covert weapon
and you are proof that we have perfected it!' he exclaimed with glee. 'Once
placed on a host they infect the host with a symbiotic virus that the panties
manufacture in their living matrix - my beautiful X virus!...... Do you know
what DNA is?' he asked me
'Yes' I whimpered in reply
'As a male your body had an X and a Y chromosome in its DNA... My X virus
enters each cell and attacks the Y chromosome, replacing it with a special X
chromosome. Your cells themselves have become female and there is no way to
reverse this. A Y Virus would leave you with two Y chromosomes and this of
course is fatal! Its just perfect!' He exclaimed as he walked to me and began
to feel my cunt in his hands. 'Of course were it not for the dogged efforts of
your symbiotic panties to pump you full of X Virus you would never have
changed - but they have good reason for wanting to change you!'
'Why? You sick bastard! Why???' I sobbed
'Because you are their host! They need your cunt to feed upon your orgasmic
juices! These breasts that have swelled on your chest are far more than normal
breasts again thanks to the X Virus - they are intelligent! Mammobellums I
call them. They can control you - force you to feed your panties by
masturbating! They stop you from hurting the panties and yourself! They
enslave you! And they can make you reproduce as well!' he continued. 'You of
course saw graphic demonstration of the other reason the panties need you to
have a cunt! They can fuck and inseminate you and cause you to give birth to
another pair of vulvoid panties! In a military application, we can ask you to
seduce a target and change that target into a vulvoid girl like you! They
become a sex slave like you and, in my experience, will tell us whatever we
want to know in the hope that afterwoods we will give them back their
manhood!' He smiled widely, now feeling my breasts 'Which of course we can
never do!'
'I hate you!'I screamed. 'Youve turned me into a girl vampire you sick fuck!'
'I can imagine you do hate me - but sadly you were in the wrong place at the
wrong time, and this project is much more important than your hatred of a body
that half the world lives quite happily with every day' he said 'now pull your
panties down, I want to inspect your genitals'. Struggling against my will I
nevertheless pulled the panties to my knees and off my legs, holding them in
my hands as the doctor approached. 'Spread your legs please' he said and again
I was made to comply. Staring at the bald snatch betwen my legs I could see my
slightly puffy girls lips touching together. As I spread my legs the lips
suddenly parted, pulled by the tension of the more tightly stretched skin.
This was a feeling that I hated to my core, one that reminded me intimately of
the form of my new genitals. As the lips parted we could both see more clearly
the shape of the smallish inner lips. Following the slit from the now exposed
tiny clitoras towards my arse we could both clearly see about 2 inches down my
slit a closed vagina hole. Again I stared sobbing as the doctor felt my labia
lips, feeling their fleshy sides and cupping the whole vulva in his hands as
if feeling the texture. He then felt my clitoras, pulling the lips further
apart to give him a better view and access. I shuddered as I felt his fingers
trace their way down my vulva slit to my vagina entrance. I gasped as his
fingers pushed their way into my vagina, first one then two and then three -
feeling the texture of the inside of my vagina hole. The feeling was so foul
and intrusive that I thought I would throw up. I could actually feel his
fingers with my vagina and felt the mouth and my labia lips themselves stretch
as he continued to push his fingers inside me. With half his hand burried in
my cunt, I had the horrific sensation of stretched lips and a foreign object
inside a part of my body that did not belong between my legs.
He pulled his hands out and I felt the vagina close behind his retracting
fingers as he pulled out a dampened hand saying 'seems perfect to me.
Tomorrow, once the panties have recovered, I have a demonstration to perform
for one of our clients. You are going to treat that young man who had the
misfortune of pulling over and witnessing your sex change to a sex change of
his own!' he said
'No!!!!! Please no!!!!' I begged 'I dont want to be raped!!!! I will kill
myself before I will let these fucking panties rape me!!!! Oh god no!!!! I
dont want to give birth, please noooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!' I began to began to get
hysterical again.
The doctor merely said 'pull your panties on a follow me now'. Again my breast
brains took control and forced me to pull the panties, in a shuddering whimper
up my legs until they touched and clasped my vulva like a hand hold. I got off
the bed and walked behind him feeling the swaying weight of my breasts as we
walked down the hall. Walking also exagerated the feeling of my empty crotch
with the usual jiggling of my penis and balls replaced by the slight rubbing
together of my labia lips.
Half way down the hall the doctor stopped next to another office and told me
that I needed to see the nurse inside about some food and a clothing kit.
Again my body complied robotically. Inside the office was a male nurse who
looked at me and smiled sadly. 'Sit down honey and I will get you some food
and clothes - the transformation robs your body of so much energy you just
have to replace it or you'll get really sick' he said
'I refuse to eat if its going to help this fucking thing between my legs rape
me and do this to some other poor bastard!' I shrieked and thrust my pubic
mound forward for him to see.
'Sit down now please' he simply continued, bringing out a tray with sandwiches
and a drink on it. He pointed at it as I sat down and said 'eat this now
please'
Against my will I was made to eat, and the doctor was right - I was ravenous,
but I knew that I was fuelling up so that my vulvoid panties would then be
able to use my cunt for its food and for much worse. I tried very hard not to
think about the fact that I was soon going to know exactly what it feels like
to be vaginally fucked, and worse still - to give birth! The merest thought of
this had me glancing between my legs again in horror as I ate. The thought was
just too much to deal with.
The nurse then reached into a locker and pulled out a collection of clothes
which he put on the table top. 'Put on the dress but dont worry about the bra
or other panties or night dress for the moment.... The bra is for your comfort
later, but untill you get shown how to put it on you'll have to live
without.... The panties are just normal girls panties... All the girls get a
break every so often from their symbiotic panties, and we require them to
dress like a normal girl on those occasions with normal panties. you will see
there is a selection here, take them all.' he said. All I could do was stare
in slack jawed disbelief at the mans calm in the face of my horrific body
hijacking. Compelled again by my breasts I pulled on what was obviously a
girls schooldress. When I was done I stared downn at myself, the picture of a
senior schoolgirl with perky breasts and slender legs and a very obviously
empty groin. Part of me became aroused at the thought that I had a schoolgirl
body, but hitching my dress up and seeing the girlish mound covered by the
very essence of the schoolgirl panty - I again began hyperventialting in
shock.
'Come with me' the nurse said as he walked from the office and I followed him
lamely with the pile of panties, bra and nightie in hand, staring down at the
schoolgirl body as I walked. He led me to a bedroom and told me that this was
my room, I was to wait here. 'If you need to pee, dont forget that girls need
to sit! And I suggest you spread your legs while you urinate to spread your
labia, that way you wont get urine spraying everywhere and going in your
vagina'. Again I was left gobsmacked by the casual reference to my sex changed
body. Strangely though he was right, I did need to pee, so I walked to the
toilet and just stared at the opening. There was no way I was going to
acknowledge my lack of a dick by squatting, so I pulled my dress up and pulled
my panties down and thrust my vulva forward over the toilet opening, grabbing
the mound and feeling again desperately hoping that a penis would
rematerialize in the void. The first spray came out all over the place and I
quickly sat down crying as I peed for the first time as a girl. The urine
streamed from between my labia lips in an awkward spray that seemed to become
more directional when I did spread my legs further as suggested. The feeling
was just horrible and I felt again completely violated. I stared at the
fucking vulvoid panties around my knees and began sobbing again when I saw
them quivver and move towards my cunt. I knew what they wanted without even
thinking - it was panty dinner time and they wanted my cunt to produce another
meal of girl juice!
Traumatised by my realization that I had just had my first girls toilet
experience I wiped my cunt with toilet paper to get rid of the wetness - stood
up and pulled the panties back onto my snatch. They grabbed and wriggled when
in place - yet another reminder their growing need. Whimpering loudly I walked
to my bed and sat down, again taking in the irony of just how lucky I would
have thought myself to have a schoolgirl in my room who would do whatever I
asked of her. I lay down and pulled my dress higher, staring yet again at the
girlish form that the hideous panties covered. Opposite my bed was a mirror
and I regarded my crotch in the mirror, looking at the thing from all angles -
taking in its true shape and form and trying to relate what I saw to what I
felt directly. What I saw was a very sexy girls crotch covered in light blue
panties - utterly flat with a distinct crease that showed the grils mouth
beneath. To 'wear' the vulva felt exactly as it looked to me. It was hard to
imagine that the person in the mirror was me - let alone that this same person
had been male only 2 hours ago. My body was exhausted and I lay back on the
bed and cried myself to sleep....
When I woke up it was night time and a dim light illuminated my room. I was
disoriented and still in shock. Someone had put me in the bed properly and
removed my schooldress. The sheets draped over my form and I could see the
pronounced bulges of my two breasts thrusting the sheets from my chest. Hoping
beyond hope that this was some cruel hoax I threw aside the sheets and stared
at the two very real mounds on my chest. I craned my neck and my eyes traced a
line down my very femanine and curvaceous stomach to my crotch, where I could
see in the dim light the snug form of a vulva beneath the most innocent
looking panties. The visual reminder was shocking to the core and I found
myself silently repeating a piteous mantra 'I'm a girl! it cant be true!' over
and over. Feeling horribly sorry for myself I almost jumped when I felt
someone grab my vulva and squeeze it. Looking frantically around I saw there
was nobody in the room - at the same time the sensation of having my cunt
squeezed ended.
Scared I sat upright when the same thing happened again - looking between my
legs I saw that the panties themselves were cupping my girlhood - sucking
their living fabric onto my vulva skin and into my slit. The sensation was the
same as if a hand were cupping and firmly squeezing my cunt. Panic began to
rise as the panties did this again, and then again - becoming almost rythmic
as if trying to arouse me! The shock hit me at the same time as the electric
tingling in my breasts - the panties were trying to do exactly that - they
were hungry. Despite my greatest mental efforts regain control of my body, one
hand moved to my vulva and began to grab and firmly massage my cunt. I began
to cry again, but the panties and my mammobellum breasts cared not for my
cries - I was masturbating again. One hand squeezed and massaged my breasts
and the other alternately stroked and squeezed my vulva mound. As my hand felt
and probed my mound I began to relive my sex change as I gradually moved
towards climax. I recalled the feeling of my poor penis and balls being
consumed by the actions of the very panties I was now wearing and clutching. I
remember the feeling of them shrinking and the flatness of the space they
left.... I recalled the first sensations of parting skin of my labia lips. The
panties were moving quite significantly now, their edges wriggling the
elastic-like cilla and the gusset twitching and writhing. My vulva rubbing
became more frantic, forced by my breasts and my hand suddenly slipped under
the panty fabric to grip and tease my vulva directly. My fingers ran up and
down my slit and caressed and gripped the vulva mound, squeezing it in my hand
- the pressure sending wave after wave of heat through my clitoras. I hated
the alien sexuality of my cunt and, replaying my violent sex change, I
recalled the moment I felt my vagina begin to form as my fingers involuntarily
entered the vagina hole and thrust inside me. Staring is disbelief between my
legs I watched in horror as my frantic hand pumped up and down inside my
panties as I finger fucked myself for the first time. The sensation was pure
sex horror and in moments I was having an extreme female orgasm, my hips
wildly pumping, my hand still probing my vagina internally and girl juice just
spewing from my hole. The panties again were in a feeding frenzy and I
withdrew my hand from within their domain and just broke down completely as
they gorged themselves on my masturbation juices. When the ordeal was over I
layed back down, glistening with sweat and exhausted. Aching I rolled onto my
stomach only to find my breasts made it completely uncomfortable. In the end I
had to just roll on my side and fall asleap.
Twice more that first night I was woken by the feeding needs of my panties and
I was twice more forced to endure the nightmare of enforced masturbation of
this girls body I was trapped in. I knew I had to do something, had to escape
and had to do something about the foul panties that had done this awful thing
to me. In the morning I woke early, my first morning as a girl. Feeling
somewhat revived despite the broken nature of my sleep I sat up and decided to
look at my body in greater detail. I stood in front of the mirror, and my
reflection shocked me utterly. Before me was a youngish looking girl (my hair
had grown overnight and my facial features had softened), with firm ripe
breasts, long sexy legs and a to-die-for snatch covered by some sexy light
blue bikini style panties. The girl nervously grabbed her breasts and watched
how they looked in the mirror. She sat on the floor and spread her legs -
exposing crotch utterly devoid of any bulge and with the subtle hint of a
vulva crack indicated in the shape of the panties. My shock had forced me to
block out the fact that this was me. The girl looked at her panty covered
crotch from many angles, from behind, the side, spread legged, cross legged
and all manner of positions. Periodically the girl would touch herself, and
when she did I shuddered momentarily back to reality as I directly felt the
sensation of this girls hand on my cunt. The girl stood and faced the mirror
and pulled her panties to her knees. Reality again hit me in the face as I
stared at the girls bald vulva. My vulva! I could see the start of my cunt
lips, and stared at the space that my penis used to occupy. My hips were wider
now, so even with my legs closed I could see the curve of my cunt lips in a
small triangle of air bewteen my legs. I sat on the floor and spread my legs -
watching the horribly female sex organ between my legs revealed more
graphically. Spreading my legs further I saw the lips part and gasped at the
sensation. I posed in various positions to see my cunt from many angles,
trying to resolve how it felt to how it looked. Staring at my cunt lips I had
a flashback to the previous day where I witnessed some other poor vulvoid girl
give birth to my panties! I tried to imagine the violation she must have felt
as some foul enslaving organism forced its way out of a birth canal that she
was never meant to have. I grabbed and felt my cunt, fingering my vulva and
watching the shape as I probed my new sex organ. I tried to tell myself that
it was ok, that it was going to be fun to experience girlhood. After all the
orgasms were intense and regular. But despite this I knew that I could never
accept this body. It simply was not mine, I was not born a girl. I was meant
to have errections and have a muscular chest and bulge filled underpants. I
hated the terribly intrusive feeling of my breasts and the flatness, the
emptyness, the invasiveness of my cunt. I hated being a girl and I hated even
more the knowledge that my breasts could control me and that I was a host to
some incredible lifeform that regularly violated me - my vulvoid panties.
I sat on the floor hugging myself and wishing I was dead when I heard the
click of the door opening to my room. The doctor I had met yesterday came in
and saw me on the floor. 'How did you sleep?' he asked
'how do you think!' I told him 'these fucking panties made me.... made me....
oooohhhh....' I broke down in tears again
'masturbate right?' he said 'how many times?' he asked
'three!!!! three fucking times I had to touch this horrible thing between my
legs!!!! three horrific girls orgasms!!! how do you think I feel!!!! you
bastard I HATE YOU!!!!' I screamed at him
'I can live with that... anyway, three times should be enough - get dressed
and come with me, put your vulvoid panties on' he said and my body robotically
complied as if he were god and me a puppet. I pulled my panties back on,
pulled on my schooldress and walked behind him to his office. Waiting in his
office was a man dressed in an army uniform, very high ranking from his stars.
He looked at me and nodded then looked at the doctor.
'Is this the girl you spoke of?' he said
'Yes, third generation, a perfect conversion and its only been sixteen hours
since he became a girl' The doctor said 'Please show us your body Lisa...'
The electric sensation in my breasts and the accompanying nipple engorgement
that seemed to preceed the breast control happened immediately he spoke. I
pulled my dress off and stood as the general approached and looked at my body.
His eyes took in my breasts and fell to my crotch.
'Are those the vulvoid panties?' he asked the doctor
'Yes - they are the ones that Fiona birthed yesterday. I estimate they took
less than an hour to change our friend here into a vulvoid girl' he continued
'How does it feel to become a girl?' the general asked
'Its completely horrific! I hate how my cunt feels! I hate how these breasts
feel! I cant bear the feel of these fucking panties touching me - they have
riuned my body! Im trapped in this girls body and I hate it! They make me do
the most horrific things!' I sobbed to him
'I imagine so' he said thoughtfully 'there is no doubt that a prisoner facing
this fate will reveal all to us - I am convinced. But I am worried about the
breast control. I cant imagine Lisa here cooperating in a sex change
assignment.... She seems to be fully in control of her mouth... Wouldnt that
blow the cover during the seduction phase?' the general asked
'No.... Lisa here has verbal freedom because we do not need her to be
otherwise here. In fact in this facility I like to hear what my subjects feel,
but dont doubt the control of those mammobellums. Let me show you... Lisa,
please pretend to flirt with the general...'
My nipples swelled and all of a sudden I was smiling at the general. I was
internally horrified, but could only watch as I winked at him and sidled up to
him. 'Do you like my breasts general' I giggled? 'Touch them please, I need to
feel your hands on my firm ripe breasts' my voice continued. The gernal
obliged and I straddled his leg rubbing my cunt up and down on his trousers
beginning to gasp.
'Enough!' said the general 'I see your point - perfect' And at that moment I
regained composure and began whimpering, pulling myself away from the general
and sitting on the bed with my legs crossed trying to forget the shock of my
enslaved actions, quietly crying.
'Where is demonstration subject?' the general asked. This shocked me from my
self pity as I imagined they were talking about the young man whose car I had
flagged over yesterday and who had watched my body change into a girls body -
unable to help.
'In the next room - you can watch from here, this mirror is one way' the
doctor said. Turning to me he said 'put your clothes on - you are about to
meet that young man you flagged down yesterday. I want to you assure him you
are fine and happy about being a girl. Charm him and gain his trust enough to
show him your breasts. You are then to immobilize him with your your breast
spray. Once he is immobile, I want you to turn him into a vulvoid girl and
feel free to tell us what you are feeling once he is immobile. Go!'
I began to hyperventilate, shock setting in. So this was it? Any moment now I
was going to be raped by these hideous panties bewteen my legs? I was going to
give birth for fuck sake! I was going to play a major part in changing that
poor young man into a girl like me! I wanted to scream, but my breast brains
had already taken control. From the generals point of view he saw a girl
quietly and efficiently pull on a dress and walk to the door leading to the
next office. With a forced look back to the men and an equally forced smile, I
entered the room.
In the room was the very young man I remembered. He looked frantic, pacing and
nervous. Seeing me he jumped and said 'get away! get away! I dont want to
become a girl!'
I wanted to scream, to tell him to run. Instead I smiled and said 'Relax! They
dont need to change you any more, they have gotten all the data they need from
me. I wanted to let you know that I am ok. Im actually really liking this
body, and the doc says he can change me back in a week or two once they have
studdied me some more! Isnt that great!' I said, walking over to him
The young man looked a little calmer and said 'is that really you? In that
body? You look fantastic - your face has changed!'
'Yes, but let me tell you the best part is that I get to play with tits until
they change me back, you should see them! They are superb!' I said
'Wow' he said 'they sure do fill out that uniform well dont they!' he said and
we both smiled.
I sat opposite him and said 'Want to see them? My breasts I mean?' I asked
He looked doubtful, but eventually smiled as I sat looking doe eyed at him
'Sure!' he said. 'How does it feel to be a girl anyway?' he asked
I could feel my pulse begin to race and I almost managed to scream 'Hell!',
but the sound choked in my throat as I was forced to stand and pull my dress
off. The young man smiled as he took in my gorgeous body, but began to look
nervous again as he looked between my legs and noticed the same panties that
had changed me into a girl yesterday. At that moment I was perhaps four feet
from him, I was forced to rush towards him and he looked startled as my
breasts suddenly sprayed a liquid from my nipples in his face. He stood,
suddenly perplexed, then I saw his emotions change to dismay and then to fear.
'No!!!!' he squeaked out as he staggered then fell to the floor, looking up at
me with imploring eyes.
'Oh god!!!!!!! Nooooo!!!' I screamed all of a sudden. 'I was forced to do
this!!! My breasts control me! You cant imagine how horrific it is to be a
vulvoid girl!!!' I blubbered. Suddenly I felt the cilla-like elastic edges of
my panties grip my skin. I tried to pull them off but failed. I felt the
panties tap into my body fluid and began to sob as the gusset of the panties
began to grow. I was forced to sit on the floor and spread my legs widely.
Both me and the paralysed young man stared in horror as the gusset quickly
grew to the size of an egg, then to teh size of an orange - inflating and
engorging like some alien sex organ. We both knew that this was exactly what
it was.
It took about 5 minutes to finish engorging during which I told the man in
near hysterics how my cunt felt and what the panties had done to me since I
had changed. I was forced to grab the bulge, feeling it firm yet somhow
plastic in my hand. It filled my hands like the bulge of my penis once did,
only lower down betwen my legs. I was forced to rub the bulge up and down
against my slit and I could feel myself becoming wet as I did so. The young
man lay whimpering and I was now speechless.
Suddenly I began feeling the gusset bulge move of its own accord. I whimpered
as it contracted, pushing my cunt lips aside, then returning. The next time it
did this it contracted further and I could feel the pressure of its surface on
my vagnia entrance. The next contraction I screamed - the bulge contracted
completely and I felt the bulk push my cunt lips apart, enter my vagina and
push an incredibly long way up my vagina passage. 'Oh god!!!! Its in me!!!!
The panty cock is inside me! So deep inside!!! I cant bear it!!! Its so much
further inside me than my own fingering ever god - you cant imagine how
violated I feel!!!! OOOOOhhhhh' I screached while staring at the flatness of
my panties crotch. The crotch reinflated and I felt the panty penis slide out
of me. Just as quickly it slid back in and then out and then in and within
moments it was fucking me utterly. From the outside we both saw the panties
alternate from engorged to flat, throbbing in and out like a heart beating
between my legs. Unlike the bulge that pulsated when I had changed sex, the
bulge here was much larger and I cried and whimpered as I felt the panty penis
thrust in and out of my cunt - my most horrific girlhood sensation yet.
Despite my horror and hate my body reacted to the panty penis massaging of my
girls sex organs and I began to pant and before long had a throbbing orgasm as
the panty penis suddenly ruptured inside my vagina, spilling its contents deep
inside me. I knew it had just seeded my womb with some foul substance that was
going to grow into a pair of these same panties. The young man lay crying -
looking terrified on the ground. I pulled the panties down my legs and threw
them angrily aside, staring at my cunt with almost as much horror as the young
parylised man. My breasts again took control and, despite the cramping I ws
now feeling in my abdomen as the panties began to grow inside me, I was forced
to take the young mans clothes off. He tried to struggle, and even managed to
sob 'please dont!' - but I was in no position to help him. The young man had a
huge erection despite himself, no doubt the result of viewing my girls body in
intimate detail. I was gripped by the most amazing feeling - penis envy - and
I knealt beside him feeling it, touching it. It was only yesterday that I had
a penis like this and testicles. They seemed so big compared to my flat bald
snatch. I hated him for having this. I wanted my one back. I couldnt keep my
hands off it. I kept glancing from his cock to between my legs regarding my
girlhood with lothing. All the while my stomach churned and throbbed as the
panties continued to grow inside me.
With my raping complete and the boy prostrate and nude before me I sat before
him with my cunt only inches from his face as I told him how I felt and about
the Genetech project. I noticed my stomach distending slightly and some time
later, after what must have been half an hour of self pitying decrying of my
girls body I felt the first contraction. It was like a stitch in my stomach
that came and went. I got another and began to cry again saying 'its time! Im
going to give birth! Oh god - can this get any worse!! Aaaaahhhhhh!!!' I
yelped. The contractions grew stronger and stronger and were verging on the
painful. Whilst I realized that birthing panties was nowhere near as large an
object as a baby I still remembered that the panties came in a sac that was
large with fluid. My nipples came errect and I stood, straddling the now
hysterical young man. My legs astride his pelvis, my cunt over his penis, I
began moaning as I felt the horrific sensation of something coming through my
vagina! Deep inside the pressure built and built and I groaned and spread my
legs further as the pain moved along my birth canal. I began panting like the
girls in the birth videos I had seen at school and suddenly I felt the object
near the end of my birth canal. My normally flat vulva was internally
distended, puffing out and standing proud. I screamed with grief as I felt the
object finally open my external vagina entrance and push my cunt lips apart.
My cunt lips were stretched to hurting. Suddenly there was this thing hanging
from my cunt, pushing its way out. I pushed again and we both saw a large part
of the panty sac emerge. Inside you could clearly see the new panties
writhing. I screamed as the sac finally plopped from my vagina, falling onto
the young mans stomach to lay quivering with the writhing form of the new
panties inside.
My eyes flicked from this horrific object on the mans stomach to my own cunt,
as did his eyes, where we could see my vagina opening slowly close. With the
young man hyperventilating I was forced to lean over him and pick up the sac.
I squeezed it and it ruptured, spilling fluid over us both. I now held the
panties in my hands and with trembling hands I began to pull the panties onto
him. They writhed limply for a moment, but once I had them near his knees they
seemed to gain some imperitave and the elastic-like cilla edges grabbed his
skin and the panties pulled themselves up his legs. He was sobbing
unconrrollably as the panties finally reached his groin, but I had to tuck his
errection inside the panties before they were fully on him. As the top of the
panties closed over his cock, I realized that this was the last time we would
both see his dick again. The panties gripped his skin around the edges and I
saw him flinch as they began to engorge - readying themselves for an onslaught
that would see this poor young man with a cunt just like me....
To be continued....
* * * |
Anders als gedacht | WARNING, BI | Auszug: ...Jetzt wandten sich die Männer wieder Steffi zu. Durch die Nieten zogen sie Seile, woran sie Steffis Lefzen weit auseinander zogen. Ihr Innerstes lag jetzt völlig frei. An den Kitzler setzten sie eine starke Klammer, und Steffi schrie laut und lange... | Isolde war mit ihrer Tochter Steffi unterwegs zum Reiten.
Steffi durfte den Wagen fahren, da sie mit ihren 18 Jahren gerade den
Führerschein erhalten hatte. Wie es kommen musste, fuhr sie einem Lieferwagen
auf, der plötzlich vor ihr abbremste. Die beiden Männer aus dem Lieferwagen
stiegen aus, um sich den Schaden zu betrachten. Da es nur ein leichter Unfall
war, machten sie den Frauen den Vorschlag, das Ganze ohne Polizei zu regeln,
sie sollten ihnen einfach hinterher fahren. Ahnungslos setzten sich die Frauen
in ihr Auto und folgten dem Lieferwagen.
Auf einem großen Schrottplatz hielten die beiden Männer an und baten die
Frauen in einen Container. Erstaunt stellten die dort fest, dass eine Treppe
nach unten führte, dachten sich aber nichts dabei. Die Frauen merkten nicht,
wie einer der Männer den Container abschloss. Unten angekommen sahen sie
merkwürdige Gegenstände, die sie an eine Folterkammer erinnerten, und bekamen
Angst. "Wir werden uns jetzt mit euch lange amüsieren können", sagten die
Männer. "Zieht euch aus". Mit vorgehaltenem Messer untermauerten sie ihren
Befehl. Langsam zogen Isolde und Steffi sich aus. Als Isolde nur noch Slip und
BH anhatte, weigerte sie sich, weiterzumachen.
Steffi hatte kleine, feste Titten und trug keinen BH. Mit dem Messer schnitt
ihr der Mann das Hemd vom Leib und legte ihren Oberkörper frei. Mit den Händen
verbarg sie ihre kleinen Titten vor den beiden. "Nimm die Hände runter!"- doch
Steffi weigerte sich. Brutal packten die beiden ihre Hände, legten ihr
Handschellen an und zogen sie an einem Seil so weit hoch, dass sie gerade noch
stehen konnte. "Zieh dich aus!", befahlen sie nun Isolde erneut, die sich aber
immer noch weigerte. Daraufhin schnitten die Männer Steffi den Slip auf,
griffen ihre Füße und fesselten sie jeweils einen halben Meter neben ihren
Händen. Steffi hing wehrlos geöffnet vor ihnen und sah, wie sich das Messer
ihrer jungfräulichen Fotze näherte.
Auch Isolde blieb dieser Anblick nicht verborgen und sie zog schnell Slip und
BH aus. "Hände auf den Rücken!" lautete der nächste Befehl, und Isolde führte
ihn sofort aus. Sie wollte auf keinen Fall, dass man ihrer Tochter etwas
antat. Handschellen schnappten zu und sie wurde zu Steffi geführt. "Bück dich
und leck der Kleinen die Fotze, und hör ja nicht auf, bevor sie gekommen ist!"
"Das kann ich nicht, es ist doch meine Tochter", sagte Isolde nur. Das Messer
näherte sich wieder Steffis Fotze und Isolde schrie: "Ich mach's, nur lasst
bitte das Messer weg!"
Ihre Zunge näherte sich Steffis Fotze und sie begann zaghaft zu lecken. "Mama,
lass mich, ich will das nicht", flehte Steffi, und Isolde hörte auf einmal
auf. Da griffen die Männer Isoldes Titten und zogen sie an den Warzen hart
nach unten, den Druck immer weiter steigernd. Isolde schrie erbärmlich auf. An
den Titten zog sie schließlich einer der Männer sie zur Seite, während der
andere einen flachen Tisch vor Steffi schob. Sie lösten Isoldes Handschellen
und zwangen sie, sich rücklings auf den Tisch zu legen, das Maul direkt unter
der Fotze ihrer Tochter. In dieser Lage fesselten sie Isolde an den Tisch, die
Hände banden sie unter dem Tisch zusammen. "Mach die Beine breit", befahlen
sie ihr, und Isolde gehorchte.
"Jetzt leck weiter bis die Kleine kommt!" Isoldes Zunge trat wieder in Aktion,
aber sie leckte nicht ordentlich. Bei Steffi waren nach 5 Minuten immer noch
keine Anzeichen, dass sie kommen würde. "Leck schneller und tiefer, nach jeder
Minute, die du brauchst, wird die Peitsche deine Fotze küssen" hörte Isolde
die Männer sagen und sie machte weiter. Plötzlich biss die Peitsche brutal zu
und Isolde schrie auf. Auch Steffi wurde hellwach und weinte. Isolde vergaß,
weiter zu lecken und wieder biss die Peitsche zu. Sie brauchte noch eine halbe
Stunde, bis Steffi endlich in ihrem Orgasmus schrie. Über 30 Schläge mit der
Peitsche hatten Isoldes Fotze glühen lassen.
Die Männer geilten sich an dem Schauspiel stark auf und erleichterten sich
anschließend. Brutal fickten sie Isolde in die geschundene Fotze, bis sie
endlich abspritzten. Isolde schrie während des gesamten Ficks, und Steffi
weinte ununterbrochen.
Nach diesem Vorspiel ließen sie die Frauen gefesselt in dem Keller und gingen
nach oben.
Nach einer Stunde kamen die beiden zurück. Wortlos griffen sie sich Steffi und
fesselten sie an ein Andreaskreuz, wobei sie die Füße neben den Händen
festbanden. Isolde fesselten sie in der gleichen Position gegenüber. Die
Männer nahmen jeder eine Lochzange und spielten damit an den Schamlippen der
beiden. Die flehten um Gnade, denn sie erwarteten fürchterliche Schmerzen. Bei
Steffi fing der eine Mann an. Er griff brutal ihre linke Schamlippe, zog sie
in die Länge und stach mit der Zange ein Loch hinein. Steffi quiekte vor
Schmerzen, doch der Mann drückte noch ein zweites Loch daneben. Mit der
rechten Schamlippe machte er das Gleiche. In die Löcher drückte er jeweils
eine Lochniete. Isolde sah mit weit aufgerissenen Augen, was der Mann mit
ihrer Tochter machte und schon zuckte auch sie vor Schmerzen zusammen.
Unaufhörlich schrie sie, bis auch in ihren Schamlippen 4 Lochnieten steckten.
Jetzt wandten sich die Männer wieder Steffi zu. Durch die Nieten zogen sie
Seile, woran sie Steffis Lefzen weit auseinander zogen. Ihr Innerstes lag
jetzt völlig frei. An den Kitzler setzten sie eine starke Klammer, und Steffi
schrie laut und lange.
Der andere Mann hatte in der Zwischenzeit Isoldes Füße unten am Kreuz fest
gemacht und das Kreuz waagerecht gedreht. Er hielt ihr seinen Schwanz hin und
Isolde sollte ihn blasen. Da sie das noch nie gemacht hatte, wusste sie nicht,
wie sie es machen sollte und stellte sich entsprechend an. Angewidert ließ sie
den Schwanz wieder aus ihrem Maul gleiten und protestierte lauthals. Der Mann
trat zur Seite und jetzt sah Isolde, was der andere Mann mit Steffi vor hatte.
Er führte eine brennende Kerze langsam an ihre klaffende Fotze und kam immer
näher. Ohne Unterlass schrie das Mädchen, denn die Hitze wurde immer größer.
Als die Kerzenflamme den Kitzler berührte, fiel sie in Ohnmacht.
Isolde schrie laut auf, als sie die Folter ihrer Tochter sah und flehte um den
Schwanz. Jetzt lutschte sie so lange, bis der Mann abspritzen konnte. Auch der
andere Mann spritze in Isoldes Mundfotze.
Die beiden Männer machten jetzt eine kurze Pause und rauchten. Als die
Zigaretten fast aufgeraucht waren, suchten sie nach einem Aschenbecher. Sie
drehten das Kreuz, an dem Isolde hing, weiter, sodass ihre Fotze jetzt oben
war. Durch die Lochnieten in ihrer Fotze befestigten sie Seile und zogen auch
Isoldes Fotze weit auseinander. Jetzt hatten sie ihren Aschenbecher.
Genüsslich drückten sie nacheinander ihre Zigaretten in Isoldes Fotze aus.
Isolde schrie aus Leibeskräften und zerrte wie wild an ihren Fesseln, doch die
beiden vollendeten ihr Werk. Mit kaltem Wasser holten sie Steffi wieder aus
der Ohnmacht zurück.
Die beiden wurden wieder in eine stehende Position an den Kreuzen gebracht,
wobei aber nur jeweils ein Fuß an das Kreuz gefesselt wurde. An Steffis freien
Fuß banden sie ein Seil, zogen es über einen Rollenmechanismus und zogen es
durch die Löcher von Isoldes Fotze. Langsam zog ein Mann an dem Seil und zog
so Steffis Bein seitlich von ihr weg. Als das Bein mehr als waagerecht
abstand, knotete er das Seil an den Löchern fest. Mit Isoldes freiem Bein
machte der andere Mann das Gleiche. Wenn die Frauen jetzt ihr Bein hinunter
lassen wollten, zogen sie unwillkürlich an der Fotze der anderen. "Bis später"
verabschiedeten sie sich von den Frauen.
Die beiden merkten fast gleichzeitig, dass sie das Bein nicht mehr lange
halten konnten. Langsam erhöhte sich so der Zug an der Schamlippe der anderen.
Sie schrien nach den Männern, doch die reagierten nicht. "Ich kann nicht mehr,
Mama" schrie Steffi und ließ ihr Bein fallen. Ruckartig wurde Isoldes
Schamlippe in die Länge gezogen. Durch die fürchterlichen Schmerzen verlor
auch Isolde die Kraft in ihrem Bein und ließ es ebenfalls herab.
Als die Männer nach einer Stunde wieder kamen, sahen sie lang gezogene Lefzen
bei den Frauen. Wie sie es abgesprochen hatten, griffen sie ihre Peitschen und
zogen jeder 10 Schläge durch die offene Fotze. Die beiden Frauen spürten
nichts als Schmerz und schrien bei jedem Schlag erbärmlich. Nach den Schlägen
lösten die Männer die Seile und die Frauen hingen kraftlos in den Seilen. Sie
sollten bis zum nächsten Morgen eine Pause haben. Dazu wurden die beiden
jeweils auf einen Tisch gefesselt.
Als die Tür anderntags wieder geöffnet wurde, blickten die beiden den Männern
ängstlich entgegen. Steffi wurde wieder an Händen und Füßen an das
Andreaskreuz gehängt. Einer der Männer baute vor ihr eine Fickmaschine auf, in
die er einen Riesendildo einsetzte. Der Dildo hatte eine Länge von 40 cm und
einen Durchmesser von 6 cm. Langsam führte er die Spitze an Steffis Rosette
und drückte ihn leicht hinein. Da Steffi auch im Arsch noch Jungfrau war,
schrie sie vor Schmerzen auf, denn ihre Rosette hatte bisher noch niemand
gedehnt. Da sie bewegungslos gefesselt war, konnte sie dem Schwanz auch nicht
ausweichen. Immer wieder flehte sie den Mann an, die Maschine nicht
einzuschalten, doch der grinste nur.
Isolde sah, was mit ihrer Tochter geschah und flehte die Männer an: "Ich mach
alles was ihr wollt, aber verschont meine Tochter!"
Sie wurde gepackt und gebückt mit weit gespreizten Beinen an einen Pranger
gefesselt. Unter ihre baumelnden Titten schob einer einen flachen Tisch, der
mit Schmirgelpapier bespannt war. Jetzt drehte er den Tisch so hoch, dass
Isoldes Titten leichten Kontakt zu dem Schmirgelpapier hatten. Er trat hinter
sie und schob seinen Schwanz mit voller Wucht in ihren Arsch. Hart stieß er zu
und Isoldes Titten rutschten immer wieder über die raue Oberfläche. Er fickte
die Schreiende so lange, bis ihre Titten rot gescheuert waren.
Auch der andere Mann spritze in ihren Arsch. Während er fickte, musste sie den
mit Scheiße beschmierten Schwanz des anderen sauber lecken. Isolde würgte und
konnte ihr Kotzen nur mühsam unterdrücken, aber auch den zweiten Schwanz
leckte sie ab. Ihre Angst, die Männer würden die Fickmaschine anstellen und
ihre Tochter würde damit gefickt werden, war zu groß.
"Bisher warst du ja fügsam, aber nun wollen wir weitersehen", sagten die
Männer. Sie fuhren eine weitere Fickmaschine heran und stellten diese hinter
Isolde ab. Den Schwanz, den sie ihr zeigten, war noch größer als der bei
Steffi. Er hatte einen Durchmesser von 10 cm und war genauso lang wie der
unter ihrer Tochter. Die Schwanzspitze setzten sie an Isoldes Fotze und
fragten sie: "Sollen wir einschalten?". Mühsam nickte Isolde, und die Maschine
begann. Langsam aber stetig drang der Riesenschwanz in sie ein und sie schrie
erbärmlich. 15 Minuten fickte der Schwanz ihre geschundene Fotze, ehe er
abgestellt wurde. "Wir werden jetzt deine Fotze peitschen, wenn du
einverstanden bist" sagte einer der Männer. Isolde flehte um Gnade und der
Mann ging zu Steffi. "Nein, bitte nicht, peitscht meine Fotze", schrie Isolde,
und der Mann kam zurück. Er löste ihre Fußfesseln und zog die Füße über eine
Stange in die Höhe. Kopf und Hände im Pranger hing Isolde an ihren Füßen, die
Fotze weit nach oben geöffnet.
Der erste Schlag traf sie völlig unvorbereitet. Sie zerrte an ihren Fesseln
und schrie aus Leibeskräften, doch schon traf sie der zweite Schlag. Im
Abstand von einer Minute traf die Peitsche in ihre klaffende Fotze. "Bitte
aufhören", flehte sie und die Männer hörten tatsächlich auf. "Wir werden jetzt
deine Titten behandeln und wir versprechend dir, dass du um die Peitsche
betteln wirst", sagten die Männer.
Wieder schoben sie den Tisch unter ihre Titten. Jetzt stand unter jeder Titte
ein Teelicht, das angezündet wurde. Da die Flamme nur 20 cm unter ihren Titten
war, stieg die Wärme schnell auf. Isolde schrie grell und anhaltend. Die
Flammen verursachten solche Schmerzen, dass sie in hohem Bogen gleichzeitig
pisste und schiss.
Die Männer wurden bei diesem Anblick immer geiler.
\- Teil 2 -
Sie gingen zu Steffi und losten, wer sie zuerst ficken durfte.
Der Jüngere gewann, denn er hatte den größeren und dickeren Schwanz. Er leckte
sich die Lippen, setzte seine Schwanzspitze an Steffis Fotze, die vergeblich
um Gnade flehte. Langsam drang er in sie ein, spürte kurz den Widerstand des
Jungfernhäutchens, und stieß dann mit voller Kraft zu. Ein stechender Schmerz
durchzuckte Steffi und sie schrie ohne Unterlass. Schnell spritzte er ab, denn
eine so enge Fotze hatte er lange nicht. Auch der zweite kam zu seinem Recht.
Er fickte ihren jungfräulichen Arsch. Diese Schmerzen waren noch schlimmer.
Als er seinen Schwanz herauszog, lief die Scheiße aus Steffi heraus, sie hatte
über ihren Schließmuskel keine Kontrolle mehr.
Die ganze Aktion dauerte nur zwei Minuten und während dieser Zeit leisteten
die Teelichter ganze Arbeit. Isolde flehte um die Peitsche: "Peitscht meine
Fotze so lange ihr wollte, aber nehmt die Kerzen weg!" schrie sie aus
Leibeskräften. Die Männer bliesen die Kerzen aus und tauchten Isoldes Titten
in kaltes Wasser, denn sie wollten noch weiter Spaß haben. Die Peitsche trat
jetzt wieder in Aktion.
Eine Stunde lang peitschten die Männer Isoldes Innerstes, auch ihr Kitzler
wurde nicht verschont. Isolde konnte sich aber auf die Schläge nicht
einstellen, zu unregelmäßig kamen sie. Mal dauerte es drei Minuten, bis die
Peitsche biss, mal traf sie drei Mal in einer Minute. Als Isolde schließlich
ohnmächtig wurde, hörten die Männer auf.
Steffi sah entsetzt, was die beiden ihrer Mutter antaten. Angsterfüllt blickte
sie zu den Männern, die jetzt wieder zu ihr kamen. Sie lösten sie vom
Andreaskreuz, drehten sie um und banden ihre Arme an den Oberarmen mit einem
Gurt zusammen. Um die Handgelenke klickten Handschellen. Brutal wurde sie zu
einem Tisch gestoßen und auf dem Rücken liegend gefesselt. Breite Gurte
hielten sie am Bauch und oberhalb der Titten fest. Die beiden Männer packten
ihr Füße und zogen die Beine langsam auseinander. An kurzen Ketten machten sie
sie fest. Steffi war jetzt so fixiert, dass sie sich keinen Millimeter bewegen
konnte, sie merkte nur, wie sich die beiden an ihrer Fotze zu schaffen
machten.
Durch die Lochnieten in ihren Lefzen zogen sie je ein stabiles Nylonseil.
Diese führten sie über zwei Rollen, die seitlich neben den Füßen waren und
machten sie an den Füßen fest. Dann lösten sie die Ketten an den Füßen. Steffi
zog sich dadurch ihre Fotze unweigerlich auf, wenn sie versuchte, die Beine
zusammen zu nehmen. Was sie auch schnell merkte, denn der Zug auf den
gespreizten Beinen war enorm. Steffi versuchte, ihre Beine gespreizt zu
halten, doch mit der Zeit gelang ihr das nicht mehr. Ihre Fotze öffnete sich
immer weiter und ihre Lefzen waren zum Zerreißen gespannt. "Bitte nicht mehr
weiter, ich kann nicht mehr" flehte sie mit Tränen in den Augen. Doch das
hätte sie auch zu der Wand sagen können, denn die beiden Männer reagierten
nicht. Sie widmeten sich wieder ihrer Mutter.
Damit Isolde ihnen noch etwas erhalten bleibt, setzten sie sie auf einen Stuhl
und fesselten sie daran fest. Damit sie ihnen die nächste Folter nicht durch
ihr Geschrei versaute, verpassten sie ihr einen Knebel.
Genüsslich gingen die beiden wieder zu Steffi, zündeten sich eine Zigarette an
und betrachteten, wie sie verzweifelt versuchte, ihre Beine auseinander zu
halten. Steffi wimmerte vor Schmerzen. Entsetzt sah sie, wie einer mit der
Zigarette sich ihrer Fotze näherte. Sie versuchte vergebens, ihm zu entgehen.
Schon spürte sie die Hitze und instinktiv versuchte sie, die Beine zu
schließen. Doch ihre Lefzen hielten dagegen. Sie schrie grell vor Schmerz
gepeinigt, als die Zigarette ihre Fotze berührte. Da das aber noch nicht alles
sein sollte und die Männer noch Grausameres mit ihr vor hatten, nahm der Mann
die Zigarette wieder weg.
Sie ließen Steffi noch eine Stunde mit weit gespreizten Beinen liegen, ehe sie
weitermachten. "Genieße deine letzten Ficks" lachten sie und stießen ihre
Schwänze hart in die klaffende Fotze. Es dauerte nicht lange, bis sie
abspritzten. Der anschließe Fick in ihren Arsch dauerte schon länger.
"Wie lange du jetzt zu leiden hast, bestimmt die andere Schlampe" sagten die
Männer zu Steffi. Einer nahm ein dünnes Nylonseil, knotete es fest um ihren
Kitzler und ließ es über eine Rolle nach oben laufen. Steffi schrie, als das
Seil sich fest um den Kitzler fasste. An das Ende knotete er einen großen
Eimer, in die er langsam Wasser laufen ließ. Das Gewicht wurde immer größer.
Mit den beschissenen Schwänzen aus dem Darm ihrer Tochter traten sie nun vor
Isolde, öffneten ihren Knebel und ließen sie lecken. "Das Wasser wird so lange
laufen, bis wir in deine Mundfotze gespritzt haben und unsere Schwänze wieder
sauber sind". Isolde gab sich alle Mühe und leckte wie verrückt. Doch es
dauerte lange, bis die Männer ein drittes Mal abspritzen konnten. In den 30
Minuten lief der Eimer über.
10 Kilogramm hingen jetzt an Steffis Kitzler und sie schrie ohne Unterlass.
"Sollen wir das Gewicht abnehmen", fragte einer grinsend und Steffi nickte in
ihren Schmerzen. Er nahm ein Messer, setzte es genüsslich an den Kitzler und
schnitt ihn ab. Das Seil rutschte ab und Blut spritzte heraus. Steffi schrie
jetzt aus Leibeskräften und ihre Stimme überschlug sich. Da das Blut weiter
spritzte, aber da sie mit Steffi noch weiter spielen wollte, versengte man ihr
die Wunde mit einem Lötkolben. Das war zu viel für Steffi und sie fiel in
Ohnmacht. Mit viel kaltem Wasser holten die beiden sie wieder in die Realität
zurück. "Das war noch nicht alles", sagten sie und gaben ihr eine Spritze mit
einer hohen Dosis eines Stärkungsmittels.
Mit dem Messer ritzten die Männer den Ansatz ihrer Titten an, sodass ein
blutiger Ring ihre Titten umgab. An jede Brustwarze klemmten sie eine kleine
Schlauchklemme und knoteten daran Seile, die über Rollen nach oben gezogen
wurden. An diese Seile hängte einer der Männer Gewichte. In Schritten von 5
Kilogramm erhöhte er alle 5 Minuten die Last an Steffis Warzen.
"Mal sehen, wie lange du deine Titten noch behältst", lachte er. Steffi schrie
nur noch, denn wahnsinnige Schmerzen durchzogen ihren Körper. Nach 45 Minuten
löste sich die rechte Titte langsam ab, und nach 50 Minuten auch die linke.
Als schließlich 70 Kilogramm an jeder Titte zerrten, rissen die kleinen Dinger
ab. Steffi kotzte und schiss ein letztes Mal, bevor sie trotz Stärkungsmittel
wieder bewusstlos wurde. Die Männer machten jetzt keine Anstalten mehr, den
Blutfluss zu stoppen, sodass sie langsam verblutete.
Isolde sah entsetzt zu, was die beiden ihrer Tochter antaten. Der Knebel
verhinderte, dass auch sie schrie. "Jetzt zu dir" hörte sie und die Männer
traten auf sie zu. Sie entfernten den Knebel, denn die Schreie von ihr wollten
sie sich bei der nächsten Aktion nicht entgehen lassen.
Sie sah, wie die beiden zwei viereckige, lange Eisenstangen nahmen und damit
ihre Titten einklemmten. Die Enden der Stangen drückten die beiden hart
zusammen und fixierten sie mit Seilen. Isoldes Titten waren brutal gequetscht
und liefen schon nach wenigen Minuten blau an. Jetzt lösten die beiden die
Beinfesseln und banden Isoldes Beine in den Kniekehlen an die Eisenstangen,
sodass sie die Stangen und somit auch ihre Titten nach unten zog. So
angebunden trugen die beiden den Stuhl unter eine Seilwinde. "Nein, bitte
nicht, habt doch Erbarmen" flehte Isolde, denn sie sah, wie an die Enden der
Stangen zwei Ketten festgemacht wurden.
Nun setzte sich die Winde in Gang und Isolde hing an ihren eingeschnürten
Titten. Die Schmerzen waren unerträglich und sie pisste und schiss
gleichzeitig. Völlig entleert schwebte sie unter der Decke. Doch das war den
Männern noch nicht genug. Sie spannten ihre Schamlippen nach außen und ließen
Isolde bis auf 20 cm wieder hinunter. Dann stellten sie eine brennende Kerze
unter ihre offene Fotze. Die Hitze erreichte schnell ihre empfindlichsten
Stellen und Isolde versuchte, der Flamme auszuweichen. Dabei geriet sie
langsam ins Pendeln, doch sie schwang immer wieder über die Kerze hinweg. Ihre
Schreie hatten nichts Menschliches mehr an sich, aber die Männer ließen nicht
von ihr ab. Über eine Stunde sahen sie sich Isoldes Qualen an, ehe sie sie
erlösten, doch eine Pause gönnten sie ihr nicht.
Sie lösten die Stangen und fesselten Isolde sitzend an einen Holztisch. Ihre
gemarterten Titten lagen auf der Tischplatte und ein breiter Gurt um ihren
Oberkörper verhinderte, dass sie sich bewegen konnte. Die Hände waren
selbstverständlich auf dem Rücken gefesselt.
Um jede Warze wurde stramm ein dünner Draht gezwirbelt, den die Männer nach
vorne zogen und an den sie jeweils 10 Kilogramm hängten. Isolde jammerte nur
noch. Entsetzt riss sie die Augen auf, als sie die langen Nägel sah, die auf
den Tisch gelegt wurden. Genüsslich nahm sich einer der beiden Männer einen 15
cm langen Nagel und drückte ihn von oben auf die linke Titte.
Als er mit dem Hammer zuschlug, ertönte ein lang gezogener Schrei von Isolde
und ein nicht enden wollender Strahl Pisse schoss gleichzeitig aus ihr. Mit
vier Nägeln machte er die Titte auf dem Tisch fest. Auch die rechte Titte
wurde in gleicher Weise angenagelt. Während der Prozedur schrie Isolde ohne
aufzuhören, und als der letzte Nagel in ihr war, gab sie ihrem Darm den Rest
und drückte die letzte Scheiße aus ihm heraus. Sie war einer Ohnmacht nahe,
deshalb spritzte man ihr ein Stärkungsmittel.
Die Männer gönnten ihr eine kurze Pause, aber nur, um sich Steffis Resten zu
widmen. Als sie zu ihr kamen und alle Fesseln lösten, atmete sie nur noch
schwach. Sie banden Hände und Füße zusammen und zogen sie so an einem mobilen
Kran in die Höhe. Ihr dargebotener Arsch und Fotze machten die beiden so geil,
dass sie ihr in beide Löcher noch einen letzten Fick verpassten.
Dann schoben sie den Kran in einen anderen Raum über ein mit Schwefelsäure
gefülltes Becken. Isolde konnte miterleben, was die beiden ihrer Tochter
antaten. Sie sah, wie Steffis Körper langsam herunter gelassen wurde. Als sie
Kontakt mit der Säure bekam, zuckte sie noch einmal, dann war keine Regung
mehr zu sehen. Isolde sah den Rauch aufsteigen und ahnte Schlimmes.
"Wenn du hier aufstehst, werden deine Titten auf dem Tisch bleiben" sagte ihr
der Mann, der ihr jetzt den Rückengurt abnahm. Isolde flehte um Gnade: "Bringt
mich doch sofort um und lasst mich bitte nicht so leiden".
Die Männer lachten nur und machten sich an die Arbeit. Isolde sah die
Glaskanüle und wusste, dass sie Schwefelsäure enthielt. Als der erste Tropfen
auf ihre linke Warze traf, brüllte sie auf. Langsam fraß sich die Säure durch
den Nippel und ihre Schreie wurden immer unmenschlicher. Immer wieder tropfte
Säure auf den Nippel, bis er schließlich ganz aufgelöst war. Isolde sah ihre
geschundene Warze und kotzte sich die Reste aus dem Leib, doch den Männern war
das einerlei. "Steh auf" befahlen sie ihr, doch ihr war alles egal. Isolde
blieb auf ihrem Stuhl sitzen, der daraufhin weggetreten wurde. Mit einem Ruck
hing sie an ihren angenagelten Titten. Langsam kam sie auf die Beine. Brutal
fickten die Männer sie in den Arsch und rissen dabei immer an den Titten. In
ihr war nur noch Schmerz.
Die Männer stellten den Stuhl wieder an seinen Platz und sie konnte wieder
sitzen. Ihre rechte Warze war an der Reihe. Eine kleine Schlauchklemme drehte
einer ihr fest um den Nippel, sodass er fast platzte. Dann griff sich der Mann
eine Stange, an deren einem Ende die Klemme festgemacht wurde und am anderen
Ende ein abgewinkelter Griff war. Jetzt drehte er langsam an dem Griff und
Isoldes Warze drehte sich mit. Nach einer Umdrehung hörte er auf und drehte in
die Gegenrichtung.
Dieses grausame Spiele wiederholte er unzählige Male und drehte bei jeder
Umdrehung immer ein Stück weiter. Isolde schrie ununterbrochen, doch er machte
unbarmherzig weiter. Als er bei zwei vollen Umdrehungen angekommen war, riss
er die Warze am Ansatz etwas ein, denn es dauerte ihm zu lange. Wieder drehte
er die Stange, jetzt hörte er nach zwei Umdrehungen aber nicht auf. Er drehte
so lange, bis die Warze von den Titten abgetrennt war. Das war für Isolde zu
viel und sie wurde wieder ohnmächtig. Mit einem Lötkolben stoppte er die
Blutungen.
Wieder spritzten sie ihr ein Stärkungsmittel und sie kam wieder zu sich. Als
sie ihre geschundenen Titten sah, sackte Isolde zusammen, doch die Nägel
hielten sie unbarmherzig am Tisch fest. Sie bekam nur schemenhaft mit, wie um
beide Titten dünne Drähte gebunden wurden, deren Ende nach oben über eine
Rolle gezogen wurden. An die Enden hängten die Männer 10 Kilogramm schwere
Gewichtscheiben von einer Hantelstange. Die Drahtschlingen zogen sich bereits
zusammen. In 10 Kilogramm Schritten erhöhen sie alle 20 Minuten die Gewichte.
Als nach zwei Stunden an jeder Schlinge 60 Kilogramm zogen, fraßen sich die
Drähte in das Tittenfleisch ein. Nach jeder weiteren Stunde erhöhten sie die
Gewichte um 5Kilogramm. Nach sechs Stunden extremer Qualen beendeten die
Drahtschlingen ihr Werk und die Titten waren vom Körper getrennt. Isolde wurde
wieder ohnmächtig und sank zu Boden.
Die offenen Wunden wurden mit Mullbinden verbunden, damit sie nicht
ausblutete. Die Männer setzten die Bewusstlose auf einen Stuhl, dessen
Sitzfläche abgenommen war, und holten sie mit einer weiteren Spritze wieder
zurück. Sie drückten ihren Arsch durch die offene Sitzfläche und fesselten sie
bewegungslos. Isolde sah, dass der Stuhl in einem ein Meter hohen Becken
stand.
Wieder nahm ein Mann die Lochzange und begann, in Isoldes Schamlippen ein Loch
nach dem anderen zu drücken. Als er die Schamlippen abgetrennt hatte, sah er
sich sein Werk genüsslich an. Ihn störte es auch nicht, dass Isolde immer
wieder Pisse aus ihrem Loch drückte, im Gegenteil, die Pisse brannte auf den
offenen Wunden zusätzlich.
Der andere Mann griff sich einen Dildo, der innen hohl und mit einem Schlauch
versehen war. Hart führte er ihn in Isoldes Fotze ein. Der Schlauch endete in
einem Eimer, der hinter Isolde hing. "Wenn du den Schwanz herausdrückst, wird
die Suppe aufhören zu laufen" sagte er und öffnete ein Ventil. Langsam aber
stetig lief die Schwefelsäure durch den Schwanz in Isoldes Innerstes. Diese
Schmerzen waren für sie zu viel für sie. Trotz der Fesseln zuckte sie wie wild
und grunzte nur noch unmenschliche Töne. Die Säure zerfraß ihre Fotze und
Isolde wurde nicht durch eine Ohnmacht erlöst. Sie erlebte ihre innere
Zerstörung bei vollen Bewusstsein. erst als die Säure bereits den Dildo
zerfressen hatte, drehte der Mann das Ventil wieder zu.
Die beiden hatten ihr eine starke Dosis des Mittels gegeben, denn Isolde war
immer noch völlig klar. Sie sah, wie sich das Becken mit Flüssigkeit füllte.
Langsam stieg der Pegel immer höher, und da ihre Fotze nur 20 cm vom
Beckenboden entfernt war, berührte die Flüssigkeit die Fotze als Erstes. Jetzt
merkte sie auch, was sie ahnte. Schwefelsäure. Der Pegel stieg unaufhörlich
und fraß Isolde langsam auf. Als ihre Fotze vollständig in der Säure badete,
erlöste sie eine Ohnmacht von den weiteren Qualen.
Die Männer waren zufrieden mit ihrem Werk und hielten nach dem nächsten Opfer
Ausschau.
* * * |
Rustic Hospitality | Rustic Hospitality
The nice four-lane highway became a two-lane rural road back at the last
little burg I had blown through, and now the two-lane suddenly narrowed to
what looked like an undivided "one-and-a- half-lane." Damn these country
roads anyway. I admitted to myself that it was sort of my fault for taking
what appeared to be a short cut on the map. I was a sales rep for a large
Eastern company, and I was heading for a company trade fair. Now, it looked
like I might be late if this short cut didn't pan out.
Things went from bad to worse when the hardtop ran out entirely. Now I was
on a rutted single lane dirt road that wound through pastures and farm
fields. I had no idea where I was, or where the road headed; the map was
useless. For the next three hours, I bumped and bounced all over the
countryside, trying to find my way back to civilization. Then the car motor
began to sputter and cough. In panic, I looked at the gas gauge, and sure
enough - it was on empty.
Cursing, I locked it up and began to trudge down the dusty lane. About a
half hour later, I spied a small farmhouse through the trees. I could see
some power lines and such running in to it, so I thought there was a chance
that they might at least have a phone if I couldn't get any gas. There was
no answer when I knocked on the door, so I walked around to the back.
There, bent over an old washtub, hand-doing some laundry was a very large
woman. She saw me and straightened up, and I could see that she was at
least six feet four inches. She was solid too, and looked to weigh around
240 pounds or so. I myself felt kind of dwarfed, as I am only 5 feet seven
and weigh 145 pounds soaking wet.
I introduced myself and explained that I was out of gas, and asked if they
had any to spare. The woman looked at me suspiciously, and said "We don't
keep any gas around the place; we use mules and horses for just about
everything." I asked it they had a phone, and she said they never had no
need for one. She said her name was Sarah Bartley, and that she was a
"widow woman", and most folks called her Miz' Bartley, or Sarah.
Just dandy, I thought to myself. Stuck out in the boonies with "Ma Kettle"
Bartley, with no gas and no phone. It was now getting on in the afternoon,
and Sarah said she had to finish up her wash. By the time she got the last
item hung on the line, it was getting on toward evening. She looked at me
again and said she "reckoned" that I could stay for supper. Just then, the
barn door opened and out came a young girl. She was about 16 or 17, and she
was drop-dead gorgeous. As she came up toward the house, I must have been
staring open-mouthed.
In a slightly chilly tone, Sarah informed me that the girl was her daughter.
My mind was racing through all kinds of possibilities, and I thought to
myself that here I was, actually in a situation to live the old "farmer's
daughter" joke. Sarah might have been reading my mind because she now said,
"SueAnn there is pretty young, and before you get any ideas, I want to warn
you that she is 'out of bounds'." You men are all alike when it comes to
young gals. "
I tried to protest that I would never dream of any improper advances, but
the Sarah just snorted. "As I said, you're welcome to have supper with us
and since we won't be able to get you no gas until tomorrow, and I guess you
can bed down in the barn tonight. But you just better remember what I said
about SueAnn." The girl came up and Sarah explained who I was and why I was
there. SueAnn even better-looking up close than I had first thought, and my
mind was racing with the possibilities.
Supper was surprisingly good, but was over with quickly. Sarah told SueAnn
to get some blankets and a pillow and make me a spot in the barn. I thought
to myself, "This may be my only chance", and followed her out. I knew I
wouldn't have much time, so as soon as SueAnn got the blankets spread, I
tried to talk her into staying a while. She wasn't exactly a beginner at
flirting and I guessed she had had a lot of practice with the local farm boys.
She said, "I'm warning you, you better watch out for yourself. If Ma
catches you messing with me, it will go real hard with you. She's caught
other boys before and she has her own special way of dealing with them"
Right then, all I could think of was getting my hands up under her top and
onto those gorgeous young tits. She wasn't exactly a shrinking violet in
this either, and soon she was giggling and laughing as I played with her
succulent melons. Just then, something poked me hard in the back of my
neck. I quickly turned around, and found myself looking right up the twin
barrels of the biggest shotgun I had ever seen.
Sarah said, "I warned you about this. You're not the first city boy who has
ended up out here thinking he can do just about any damn thing he pleases."
SueAnn had jumped to her feet and with a coy smile, now pointed her finger
at me and said, "He made me do it, Ma." All of my protests, apologies, and
explanations were in vain however; Sarah told me that now she was going to
"fix" me real good and it was all my own doings.
"Well SueAnn", she said, "looks like you're going to have to give me a hand
\- again."
Handing the shotgun to SueAnn, Sarah turned around and grabbed me. It was
like being clutched by a bear, and I suddenly knew that this huge woman
could overpower me with ridiculous ease. This became even clearer a moment
later as she began to undress me like a child. Holding me with just one
arm, Sarah began to strip me with the other. I tried to hit her, but she
almost took my head off with a tremendous right hand. "Just settle down
little man", she said, "If you don't, you're going to really get hurt."
If I wasn't so scared, the situation would have been almost comical. Here I
was, an adult man being stripped like a baby for a bath by its mother. In
just a moment or two, Sarah had pulled off my jacket and shirt, and now was
holding me up by one leg; taking off my shoes and socks. Then she pulled me
to my feet and held me from behind with an arm around my middle. With
growing horror, I realized she had unfastened my belt and opened my pants.
A moment later, she held me off the ground and pulled them off my legs. I
had begun to beg, plead, yell, and shout, and Sarah told SueAnn, "Get me a
roll of that duct tape by the tool box." In spite of everything I could do,
Sarah plastered two pieces of the tape across my mouth and I was silenced.
I was really getting panicked now. All I had left on were my stylish black
silk bikini briefs which now drew a chuckle from Sarah. "Ain't we the fancy
boy", she laughed. "SueAnn, fetch me the wide belt from the tool box now."
She had me draped over one brawny arm which clutched me tightly around my
waist, and I felt her grasp the back of my briefs with her free hand. With
one smooth continuous motion, she stripped them off me and tossed them on
the pile with my other clothes. I was completely naked now and utterly
helpless to resist this Amazon.
SueAnn returned with a very wide leather belt which Sarah now fastened
around my waist. Then the girl went to the side of a stall and began to let
down a rope from a pulley in the rafters. The rope had a snap-ring attached
which she clipped to an eyelet in the back of the belt. I had no chance to
even move before Sarah took hold of the rope from SueAnn and pulled me off
my feet. I fell forward, bent over at the waist and held just off the floor
by the wide belt. "Well girl", said Sarah to SueAnn, "Looks like we got us
another one of them city slickers to fix up." With a shock, I saw SueAnn
grin at her mother and say, "You're right about that, Ma. This one didn't
waste a second before trying to get me where he wanted me." Belatedly, I
realized that SueAnn had set me up, and I felt even more foolish if that
were possible. And I already felt pretty damn foolish hanging there with my
cock and balls dangling down.
"Well, he's going to find out now that he made the biggest mistake of his
life in coming here and trying to abuse our hospitality." With that, Sarah
took an old harness strap from the wall and walked around behind me.
Suddenly, my backside exploded in pain. She hit me again and again, and I
couldn't do anything except struggle and squirm. With my feet off the
floor, I could only flail my arms and legs helplessly as Sarah turned by
backside bright red with the strap. Tears were streaming from my eyes when
she finally stopped, and she let me have a rest.
"That's for trying to mess with my girl when I warned you not to", said
Sarah. "Now I'm going to make sure you can never do it again." SueAnn
took something from the toolbox and came over to me. I could see in her
hands some short lengths of leather straps, and suddenly, Sarah began to
lower me a bit. SueAnn slid one of the straps over each of my wrists and
ankles, and then began to brush away the straw on the floor under me. Then
I saw the four eyebolts set in the floor, but could only continue to watch
as SueAnn clipped the free ends of the straps to them. Then Sarah began to
hoist me again, and I was hung bent over and stretched down from the belt,
with my wrists and ankles tied down to the eyebolts.
I could scarcely move, and it was with a growing sense of sick dread that I
heard Sarah say, "Now get me the clamp from the toolbox girl, and the
cutting kit." I saw her as she returned with a long shiny tool that looked
something like a pair of very large pliers, and a black metal box. Sarah
took the tool from SueAnn and showed it to me. "This is called a Burdizzo
Clamp, boy, and I'll bet you don't what it's used for." SueAnn now came
around in front and said, "It's used to crush the testicle cords insides a
bull's scrotum. That's one way we castrate livestock." Sarah now added,
"As well as other bothersome male pests."
"And", she continued, "that's exactly what I'm going to do to you right now.
Except, I'm not only going to crush your cords, I'm going to cut your whole
sack off right after." I could not move nor could I scream. Bent over, I
could see down between my legs and watched as Sarah placed the open jaws of
the tool over my dangling scrotum. It was meant for bulls, and my
relatively small sac was completely engulfed in the massive shining steel
tool. Sarah said to SueAnn, "Since he was so hot to come just a while ago,
why don't you go ahead and milk him off for one last time? I'll clamp him
just as he lets loose."
With a playful giggle, SueAnn knelt behind me, reached under and took hold
of my fear- shriveled penis. She began to pull and stroke it, and in spite
of my terror - I felt it begin to respond to her soft warm hand. Soon, it
was straining at its full length as she continued to pump me. Try as I
might to prevent it, I could feel an orgasm building deep within me. Closer
and closer it came as SueAnn continued her work on my penis.
Then I reached the point of no return and began to buck and thrust my hips.
The first glob of my semen spurted from my straining cock and hit the floor,
and it suddenly felt as if someone had kicked me squarely in the balls. The
pain was staggering as Sarah slammed the jaws of the tool closed on my
scrotum and crushed the cords to my testicles. My orgasm died in mid-spurt
as gripping nausea supplanted every vestige of the sexual sensations I had
been feeling.
"Now we'll just let him hang there awhile like that", said Sarah. "When the
cords are good and crushed and sealed off real tight, I'll cut everything
off. I was in a sea of sickening pain as the heavy tool hung from my
clamped scrotum. It seemed like hours, but could not have been more that
ten minutes later when I heard Sarah say, "Get me the cutting kit girl, and
I'll finish him." My penis had again shrunk up to almost nothing, so I
could clearly see the large scalpel as it approached my trapped balls. I
saw Sarah's hand as she took hold of the Burdizzo clamp and pulled it down,
stretching my sac even further. Then she positioned the scalpel just down
from the clamp and began to cut me. The deep nauseating ache I had been
suffering was joined by white-hot, burning agony. Silently, I howled and
shrieked behind my tape gag as my scrotum and testicles were methodically
cut off.
"There, that's that", she said as she finished. "Well girl", she continued,
"Looks like we have another pair for the collection." With pain-glazed
eyes, I watched as SueAnn took a large pickle jar from a shelf and opened
it, Inside were at least a dozen other pairs of testicles, preserved in
some sort of liquid. With her scalpel, Sarah cut my own testicles free from
inside my severed scrotum, and dropped them in with the others. Then she
walked back around behind me and began to stitch me up with sutures she got
from the metal box. It took her about another ten or fifteen minutes, and
then she opened the handles of the Burdizzo clamp.
There was only a tiny bit of bleeding and she said it would stop by itself.
"We'll keep him tied up here in the barn until tomorrow. Then, you can get
some gas for his car, and he can get on out of here." Sarah lowered me and
JoeAnn took the straps from my wrists and ankles. Then, I was tied down in
a stall on my blanket bed and left alone. Needless to say, I did not get
much sleep that night.
The next morning, I felt as if I had been hit in the groin with a baseball
bat. Sarah came out, examined me, and said I was fit to drive. She untied
me and told me to get dressed. "You go on and cry to the law if you want
to", Sarah said. "You ain't the first one I've fixed like this, and you
most likely won't be the last. The law around these parts is pretty
sympathetic to us when it comes to city boys like yourself coming in and
trying to get to our girls."
SueAnn came in about an hour later with a gas can and said, "This will most
likely get you to the corner store where there's a gas pump." Then she told
me how to get there, and Sarah said, "I'm going to take off that tape now,
just keep shut up and get on out of here while you can."
As I walked (slightly bowlegged) down the drive, they were both on the front
porch and I saw SueAnn wave to me. "Y'all come back and visit some time",
she yelled. |
||
Lori and her Friends Man 2 | GAY, STRAIGHT, BI | This story is adult erotic fiction, and should not be posted where minors are
likely to see it.
This story is about my fantasies. , it has castration, torture and being
forced to serve black man by a white lesbian and her friends. . If you enjoy
this sort of thing, read it. If you don't, then don't go any farther. As
always, all comments and feedback are truly appreciated. This story may be
reposted without the authors permission, use it as you like, just give me
credit for any posts of this story. ---------- Steve.
Lori and her Friends
Man 2, story 2
By Steve.
( You can skip the first page if you want (but I wouldn’t) the new story
starts below at PART 2)
Lori a 20 year old collage student with some veterinarian training, going to a
state collage in middle Missouri , had secrets but not anymore, one secrets
was she liked playing with and using older man. Another is she is a full blown
lesbian, but she did suck my dick once it was the last time it was sucked off.
Lori has two best friends that like black cocks the bigger the better for
these white girls. However when their black men are not around these girls are
all lovers,. So Lori and her two girl friends are ( Bi ) (interracial ) ( nut
busters ) that like to torture older white men with low hanging old balls for
fun. Then they force these men they destroy to serve black cocks to farther
humiliate them after and sometimes before castrating them. Lori and her
friends are crazy white girls, Lori being a full blown lesbian wants to make
as many old white males as she can fool into thinking she wants them to fuck
her into her (nutless ) (faggot cock sucking) ( pussy boys). The reason for
all this is as a young girl of just 6 years old her grandfather and his
friends forced her into sucking their old cocks whenever they wanted, Lori’s
mom and dad died in a car wreck when she was four, and it didn’t take long for
her old mostly drunk grandpa to force her into serving his needs.
I was her first victim she made into a cock sucking eunuch, my name is Steve.
I lost my balls to three hot young collage girls just three weeks ago. Though
I still feel like am a straight male, I guess am not, the only way I can have
the feeling of an orgasm without my balls which are mostly dry by the way;
except for maybe a drop or two of prostate juice is to be banged in my ass by
a big thick cock. Lori’s girl friends make sure their black lovers fuck me on
a regular bases. Their black buddies from the Jefferson City projects that
fucked me that first night I lost my balls come by all the time too, calling
me their white man pussy bitch, and I guess that is what I am now. I guess if
I wanted to be honest about my life I am a gay nutless asspussy boy, but I
just don’t feel gay, not yet anyway, however without my balls giving me the
testosterone they uses to I can’t say I feel straight either.
Sure I looked at gay porn on the net before I was castrated by these young
woman, what guy my age
hasn’t ? Now and then I would come across some white guys getting fucked and
going down on some big black cocks. I never jerked off to the stuff. I did
think once or twice “do black cocks really get that big? And “how is that
white guy taking all that cock up his ass,” Some times my cock would get a
little hard if some big cock was really pounding some white guys ass, but I
would quickly click over to a straight porn site and pump my cock to some
bitch screamed as some long thick dick white or black was ripping deep into
her holes. Some of the black guys fucking those white bitch’s had them
screaming like it was their first cock, and when that 12+ inch’s of dark man
meat was pulled out I knew why. The net sure in full of some wild sex shit,
Dogs fucking, horse fucking, women stomping on guys nuts, blacks fucking white
girls and guys, gays fucking anything that can fill their man holes and so on.
I would sometimes think as I paged thru all the sites coming across a gay site
or two, that it might be fun to try the other side of sex just once. Hell I
like a little pain with my sex what real man doesn‘t, sometimes it makes it
better and my first ass fucking would be a pain to remember I saw sure of. I
would sit there watching some of that gay stuff thinking it would be a good
way to see firsthand if black cocks can really be 12+ inch long, and as thick
as a woman’s wrist, or was it all just a camera trick? Now just once is not
what my life is about at all.
I never thought for a second back then I would go gay, am a straight guy and I
like pussy a lot, but thanks to Lori I suck cocks all the time now and all
though every black cock is not 12+ inch long, as in the porn world most that
use me like a cheep white man whore are and then some. I am always surprised
that there is never a shortage of what same to be straight well hung black men
ready and willing to fuck a nutless white guy or get a blow job from me; most
will fuck me saying “now who‘s the slave white boy,” I guess it‘s a revenge
thing that they fuck me so deep and hard.
Lori and her friends, Alice and Susan are now working on getting their next 40
something white victim. As with me these young white girls know their best bet
for a night of de-balling fun is to work on the few older white males at the
local collage. They know an older man is less likely to tell the law what
happened to him, then a younger man with his whole sex life ahead of him; plus
by the time their done with him he is to scared to say much to anyone. I still
think the day will come when these crazy white bitch’s will de-ball a young
buck, but it just has not happen so far, there are just to many 40 something
guys wanting a shot at a young piece of 18year old collage pussy.
I am now back at collage, trying to finish my training in grounds keeping so I
can get out of this town and away from these crazy bitch’s before they think
it would be fun to cut my cock off too, as I said in ( man 1 story 1 ), this
is a collage of mostly males and most of them just out of High school ,
however like me there are a few 35-40+year old males that are here on one kind
or another training; or retraining programs for work, it’s a great little town
for young woman that want to tease then de-ball a few men here and there.
About 2% of the students here are young girls, out of that 2% female
enrollment I don’t think there is one of them that has not seen the DVD movie
Lori and her friends made of them torturing my cock and balls, de-balling me,
and humiliate me by handing me over to be man fucked by black men, over and
over and over again. They all giggle as I walk by and whisper “ Hi Nutless how
they hanging pussy boy?” If they are two or more girls together the others
will all reply; “Their not” and then they will all breakout in laughter again.
* * *
PART 2
I saw Lori talking to Ron today, Ron’s 43 and a horn dog, so I knew she would
be able to trick him into thinking he was going to get lucky. Lori came over
to me after she was done talking to him and said I want you at my place this
Friday night at 10:30 or else, she made a scissor cutting motion with her
fingers and I knew what that meant, my cock would be next if I failed to show
up. That Friday when I got to her place Lori had Ron already in the wooden
humbler devise. His balls where red and sore looking as he lied on the floor
just inside her door , she must of lied into his balls the same way she did
mine just three weeks ago. Ron looked up with tears in his eyes, he was gagged
so he could not speak, but I knew he wanted me to help him, Lori saw this and
just laughed. OK Steve turn around , bend over , and drop your pants I want
Ron to see what’s in store for his Balls tonight. I did as she said, I opened
my belt, turned and dropped my pants, Ron’s eyes got as big as saucer when he
saw my soft dick hanging between my leg, with only a line of stitches where my
balls and scrotum sack once hung.
Lori then kicked Ron in the balls saying “these babies are going to be in a
jar before the night is out if you’re lucky boy, now get your ass up and move
I want to get started.” Ron tried to get up but just as when my balls where
clamped in that humbler he could not stand all the way up, Lori laughed at him
and told me to pull my pants up and help him. I placed my hand under his arm
and pulling him to a full standing position, Ron screamed as his sack of balls
stretched, when we got to the basement stairs he was crying asking me to help
him, I thought about doing just that, but then the door to Lori’s apartment
open and in walk Alice and Susan and right behind them was two other girls
from the Collage, two girls that Ron had sex with and then dumped the next
day, he told me once how much fun it was fucking these fresh out of high
school bitch’s.
I turned to Ron and whispered your in for some shit now am sorry but am not
going to get all these woman mad at me, I want to keep what is left between my
legs, I don‘t want to have to sit to pee old buddy sorry. Lori and the four
others then forced Ron to walk down the stairs into the basement, each and
every step ripped at his balls trapped in the humbler vise, by the time he
made it down the thirteen steps his balls where swollen and dark blue as mine
had been just a few weeks ago, Lori turned to the other girls smiled and then
kicked Ron’s balls hard, he fell to his knees in pain with his head on the
cold floor, he had spewed up and landed right in it, with his balls and ass
now sticking up into the air, Susan was next she kicked at his nuts trapped in
the vise pulling more of his scrotum sack thru the humbler, as his balls
stretched hitting his asshole, the force of the kick knocked Ron forward flat
out on the floor to the cheers of the other girls. I was the last one down the
stairs. Standing on the last step I could see every kick to his poor nuts as I
moved into the basement, I was kind of glad my balls were gone at this point.
Alice asked her two friends if they wanted a go at his jewels, they both
smiled saying “hell yes we do!” but Lori said not now, that’s enough we don’t
want to pop his balls before we have fun with them. She turn to me, “Steve get
your nutless ass down here and help him up I want him in that cell, and clean
that stuff off his face.” I helped him to his feet as the girls all broke out
in laughter. When Ron stood up his cock was as hard as a rock, Lori said see
girls I told you these old fucks love cock and ball pain there dicks never
lie, and once you remove their balls they want it up the ass just as much;
again they all laughed, you’re right Lori he looks like his wants more to us.
I walked Ron into the old jailcell, cleaned his face off, then I stood out
side the door. Lori ask Katy and Anna the two girls Ron had used for a night
of sex to carry a 5 foot long wooden bench in, one I had not seen on the night
I was tortured.
It had several hole dilled in it, some close together and others spaced about
three inches apart, the bench was made so it rested high off the floor. Once
the bench was placed in the center of the cell Lori had the girls tie Ron face
down on it, his hard cock went right thru one of the holes. She removed the
humbler vise and then told Susan to get the metal forks she had straightened.
Susan came back with a hammer and 5 forks, she handed one to each girl and
they all smiled. This is going to be so cool Alice and her friends all said in
unison, Lori had first short at Ron’s ball sack, she pulled his balls down to
the bottom of his scrotum as hard as she could, stretching them as Ron
screamed in pain then she placed her fork at the end of his nut bag and asked
Katy to give her the hammer. She pushed her four prong fork into his tender
skin, and slammed it with the hammer driving it thru his scrotum sack and into
the wood below. Ron screamed and tried to pull away but that only hurt him
more, Ron’s legs where shaking in pain as he bagged Lori to remove it, she
just laughed and asked Anna to check his cock, and sure enough it was still
rock hard, “ he wants more girls so lets give him what his cock says he
wants.”
Alice wanted to go next and did, Lori told her to save his balls for Katy and
Anna. She didn’t want to but agree that they should get first shot at his
family jewels, seeing that he had fucked and just dumped them as he did. Alice
placed her four pronged fork at the top of his ball sack right up next to his
hard cock and slammed it in, Ron screamed again and tried to pull up and away
from the bench. Susan said I’ll stop this fuckhead from trying to get up, with
that she took the hammer from Alice and knelt down grabbing his hard cock and
pulling it up against the underside of the bench, then she stuck her fork into
his hard shift just behind the head, as Ron bagged her not too Susan slammed
her fork with the hammer driving it up into and thru his cock, locking him to
the underside of the bench; now he won’t move when Katy and Anna fork his
fucking balls.
As I stood out side the cell watching all this, I don’t know why but I was
thinking dame this is hot seeing these good looking young girls busting Ron’s
nuts. I could feel my nutless cock trying to get hard but that was not going
to happen with out a thick cock up my ass to massage my prostate. Lori saw
this and said “Steve get in here and bring that big black strap-on off the
wall with you.” I got the dildo and knew what she was going to do to me, it
sure was a big one. On your knee’s nutless she said; not there faggot get down
in front of Ron face; I want him to see what his life is going to be like with
out his balls. I did as I was told for two reasons, I needed to cum even if it
would be a dry orgasm and I sure didn’t want them to hurt my cock. There I was
on my knee’s as Lori greased up that 16inch’s of what looked like a black
horse cock, the head on this thing was huge. She stepped in front of Ron and
smacked him in the face with the dildo, watch this, Steve loves this now that
his balls are in a jar; well what was left of them after we busted his nuts
that is and you’ll be loving it soon to Ronny boy. She turned and placed that
thick long black dildo to my ass and rammed it home, filling my manhole with
almost all of it bringing my cock to full staff. Ron could see down between
her legs as she deep fucked me trying to get every inch in up my ass, in no
time I had my orgasm and my cock went soft. Lori then ripped that long cock
from my ass hurting me more then the fucking it just give me, it made a
popping sound as she turned and shove it into Ron face saying “eat shit faggot
boy.”
He refused but not for long. Lori nodded her head to Katy and Anna, both girls
placed their forks one each in the center of his pin down sack of nuts as they
took turns hammering them into and thru his balls making him scream with a
wide open mouth that Lori filled with that greased and shit covered dildo. Ron
lay there crying as the girls pulled the forks out of his sack, cock, and both
his balls. Susan and Alice were licking each others cunts but had stopped to
call their boy friends to tell them that Ron would be ready for them in about
two hours and for them to bring as many bother as they could round up that
wanted to fuck two nutless white boy tonight. Tell them they will have some
new tight white boy ass to break in as well as me (Steve) their old head job
and butt buddy..
Katy and Anna had so much fun hurting Rons balls they wanted to do something
that would hurt him more then just piercing his balls. About that time Susan
and Alice came back from calling Jake and Solomon, one of the girls had a
small carpet knife, a cooler and what looked like a long steel rod in her
hands the other had a long extension cord and a blowtorch in hers. Ok girls we
are going to castrate Ron In a whole new way, I call it the fire and ice
castration, with some fun along the way so put a new min-DVD in the cameras,
the girls at school and on the net won’t want to miss one second of this,
we’re going to torture his cock and his balls, then castrate him one nut at a
time.
Lori stood there giving directions as Katy, Anna, Susan, and Alice pulling Ron
into position, sitting him up on that wooden bench pulling his hands over his
head and tying them to a rope hanging from above. They pulled his feet out and
tied them to the legs of the bench so his balls fell thru a hole, then a rope
went around his waist and was pulled down and tied to the legs be-hide him.
Ron was now sitting straight up, his balls where hanging right thru a hole and
the weight of his body pushed down and held his balls deep into the bench.
Lori lowered three of the cameras now getting them ready so they filmed all
sides of his sack of manhood hanging there just waiting for what was not to be
a painless castration. She then placed a space heater under one end of the
bench and started pulling on Ron’s nuts, stretching, pulling, stretching them
lower thru the hole. The heater warmed the scrotum skin so once stretched his
balls would stay hanging low. Each girl got a go at his balls, but it was Anna
that pulled on them the hardest, she pulled and squeezed his ball till Ron
passed out from the pain in his belly. His sack of balls under that heated
beach hang down 6 to 8 inch’s, Lori made Anna stop but I think she want to
pull his nut right off. The other girls were all rubbing their cunts as they
watch Anna play, Katy wanted to know if I was aloud to lick her pussy, Lori
said sure use Steve any way you want , cut his cock off if you want just make
sure you get it on tape. Susan, and Alice piped in saying that faggot nutless
ass boy will lick you as good as he suck a black cock or we’ll run nails thru
his little dink till he does it right, to that all the girl looked at me and
laughed.
Lori went over to Ron with some smelling salts, she wanted him awake and
screaming as she cut away his scrotum sack. With his sack stretched thin you
could really see the holes the forks left in his bag. Susan wanted to know if
his scrotum was to damaged to have it dried, Lori said it can be tacked on the
inside before it is dried, we could knock a lot more holes in it before it
becomes worthless.
Lori had Alice and Susan get the things they brought in and place them in
front of the cameras, the wire, a knife, a cooler, a long sliver rod that had
a hole down the middle of it and a small blowtorch; Ron sure was in for it
now. Katy had me licking her cunt as Lori picked up the small knife to cut
around the top on Ron’s nut bag, Anna was rubbing and fingering herself, Susan
and Alice were on their knee’s with the big strap-on Ron had cleaned up so
well after it was use on me.
Susan had it placed at Alice’s cunt and was waiting for the first cut into
Ron’s sack to start fucking her friend with it, as Lori cut into his scrotum
he screamed, and the girl went wild. Lori cut real slow trying to get a good
clean cut all the way around the top of his scrotum, Ron was screaming but he
could not move. As his scrotum was removed leaving his balls bloody and
hanging by their cords, Lori then used the blowtorch to burn the skin and stop
the bleeding for now; she just picked it up, lit it, and pushed it around the
hole in the wooden bench , sending Ron over the edge, his screams filled the
place drowning out all the orgasms the girls were having as they watched his
sack pulled off his balls. Lori worried that someone staying upstairs in one
of the rented rooms may have heard that one.
As the girl all came down from their orgasms, each wanted to feel Ron’s naked
balls, they all took a turn at feeling and pulling on his nuts stretching the
cords till Ron passed out in pain again. Each wanting to know just how Lori
planed to bust this set of man nuts. Well she didn’t waist time showing them
what the plan was. She started by opening the cooler it was full of dry-ice,
then she picked up the wire; first we are going to each zap his large nut with
this extension cord till it starts to cook and get hot, then I’ll hard freeze
it with the dry-ice and have Anna bust it with a hammer. What about the other
one? just wait girls we don’t want to work to fast here; Ron hurt Anna and
Katy and we are going to make his full castration a thing for him to remember.
Now wake him up so we can have some fun.
Katy held the smell salts under his noise, he jump back awake just as Susan
was pushing that silver rod down deep into his cock, then she clipped one end
of the wire to it and had Alice plug in the cord. I just stood there thinking;
“ my God their going to cook his nut and the inside of this cock too“. Susan
sat on a small stool like she was getting ready to milk a cow she used a small
string to tie his other testicle up and out of the way so it did not get hit
by the wire. She started giggling as she reached under the bench and touched
the other end of the wire to his nut, it jumped, and the cords pulled up, but
Susan was ready for that and as she followed that one ball upward holding the
wire with 120 volts to his man fruit for a full 20 seconds I could smell his
cock and that large nut burning, Ron screamed and spit his guts up right into
a bucket Lori had thought to hang under his chin. Ron passed out just as Susan
stopped and handed the bare wire to Katy.
Lori said wake him up; and Katy do him only 15 seconds lets see if we can keep
him in pain but not let him pass out. Susan said watch that nut Katy it wants
to pull up inside him when you hit it with the juice, OK it won’t get away
from me; she then pushed the wire to that ball and the smell of burning fresh
filled the room again; 15 seconds worked Ron screamed but stayed awake the
whole time. Alice went next and then it was Anna’s turn, she sat on the stool
and by now Ron’s nut was letting a little steam off, after three girls had
electro cooked his cock that somehow was rock hard with that rod still deep
inside it cooking it and most likely his prostrate too.
This time then his man fruit was being electro cooking by Anna, Ron cock shot
a big load of steaming cum right out the end of that metal rod, it had such
force that it cleared the bench and hit the floor. Lori had me lick it up off
the cold floor so I know that stuff was hot, even after hitting that floor.
Lori left his small nut tied below and tied another string around the large
one they been cooking, pulling it up thru a hole in the bench just in front of
his cock, she taped the cords down with some duck tape (see guys and gals it
has a million uses just as they say it does). Ron’s cock was hard and letting
off a little stream thru the hole in that steel Rod that was deep inside it.
Lori had Anna remove the bucket so Ron could see his taped down testicle and
hard cock, Ronny old boy you will get to see your big boy here cooked then
frozen, then Anna will castrate it into a million pieces with this hammer.
Three of the girls picked up a camera and zoomed in as Lori hit that big
streaming nut with 120v again, only this time she had removed the wire from
his penis rod and placed one wire on each end of that large man ball. When Ron
thought he could take no more she removed the juice and placed a large piece
of dry-ice on top of it, this hot then super cold had Ron screaming as his
large nut was super frozen.
Alice kept waving the smelling salts under his nose just to make sure he
stayed awake for the big POPPING as Anna giggled saying am going to bust your
nut like you busted my virginity. That’s why Anna pulled so hard on his balls
whenever it was her turn to play with them, Ron took her virginity and then
dumped her the next day, so this was revenge for her too as it was for Lori;
tho Lori hated all men Anna at least for now only hated Ron.
Lori placed another piece of dry-ice under it to make sure his nut would
shatter when Anna hit it, OK Anna castrate him! Just hit his big sperm making
man nut real hard he wants you to pop it, their cocks never lie, Remember. See
how hard and proud it is standing up bust his nut and take some power from it,
at that point all the girls chanted bust his nut, bust his nut, and Anna did
just that. She raised that hammer high and sent it down hard, shattering Ron’s
first nut to little pieces. Ron screamed as he saw his testicle explode but
did not feel a thing his nut was frozen and dead already and this ticked Anna
off. That was until she ripped that rod out of his cock, the rod had cooked to
the inside and was stuck so he screamed as flesh from deep inside his penis
was ripped out, this made Anna very happy she had an orgasm just standing
there hearing him scream.
Ron sat there crying and begging them not to hurt him any more so Lori said
OK, we’re not going to hurt you for the next hour pig boy you can have a break
and keep your little man ball for now. I knew what that meant but Ron had no
idea and was thanking them as they untied him giggled. They all smiled at him
telling him what a big brave boy his was being as they walking him over to
this over size padded sawhorse, it looked like a pummel horse but much lower,
the girls had him bend over it and he did like a good boy. Alice told him If
he did as he was told they would not bust his last nut, Alice was such a lair
but it claimed him down as his arms and legs where being tied to the padded
horse. Then came the knock at the back door, I knew it! Ron was about to be
turned into a white faggot manbitch for black cocks.
Susan and Alice ran to the door and in walked Jake and Solomon they hugged
them and told their boy friends there was a fresh white boy ass waiting for
them to pop his cherry man ass. Jake and Solomon undress where Ron could not
see or hear them so he had no idea what was about to happen. The two white
girls sucked their boyfriends black cocks so they would be big and hard the
first time Ron saw them.
Jake and Solomon then walked around the corner, Ron saw their big black cocks
dancing in front of them and started crying no, no please don’t am not Gay I
don’t want….. Shut the fuck up white boy Jake said, we don’t care if your Gay
or not our ladies want to see your whiteass fucked until all you dream of is
hard black meat filling it up. Hey Jake look at what the girls did to this one
Solomon said, his little dick looks bad like someone burned it or something
and his sack is gone. Hey Jake this whiteboy only has one nut back here, maybe
I’ll rip it off and save the girls the trouble.
Lori said you better not his nuts are our to play with you’re here to show him
what his new life is going to be like and that‘s it; OK,OK you crazy lesbian
bitch I was just kidding. Jake and Solomon walk in front of Ron and told him
to open up but he wouldn‘t, the girl set up the cameras so there was one under
him, one in front and one back five feet to catch all the action, the guys
beat Ron in the face with their long hard cocks till Solomon said I want some
fresh tight whiteboy pussy. Walking be hide Ron as Ron bagged him over and
over again not too do it; that he didn’t want to be a faggot, but Solomon just
rubbed it in again saying well look at that! This white boy he got him no sack
on his balls and his ass is all up in the air like that nutless pussyboy Steve
when we be fucking his faggot ass. I think this white boy is wanting some of
my black meat too, he then hit Ron’s ass cheeks with his thick long cock as he
laughed and flicked Ron‘s one remaining testicle with his fingers
.
Anna and Katy said fuck him hard he did us that way. Oh am gonna, this white
boys ass is all mine, get ready Jake his month will be open for business about
now! At that Solomon rammed most of his dark 14+inchs deep into Ron’s white
manass, he screamed in pain as Solomon dry fucked his virgin asshole. Deeper
and deeper it went in, no lube for this white boy he said laughing, Jake
wasted no time filling Ron’s month just like they did me a few weeks ago.
Solomon then pulled all the way out and rammed it all back in, Jake was now
throat fucking Ron’s face his big black sack of balls the size of a grapefruit
bounced off Ron’s chin as he throat him. Jake said “and this white boy said
he’s not Gay, he sure be sucking my cock like a white Gay pussy boy; hell I
think he may be better then Steve was the first time.”
Hey White boy Solomon called out looking at me, get over here and lick my
black ass while I bust a nut inside our new man pussy, I did as I was told. As
I licked his ass I could feel Solomon large balls pull up then he filled Ron’s
ass with his African cum till it was running out and down onto his exposed
nut, there was so much cum it dripped onto the floor. The Guys each took a
turn on Ron’s ass before leaving telling the girls to call them when they
finished the job and they would bring the gang by to fuck both the nutless
freaks.
Lori said Katy gets to pick what we do to his last man ball, at first she
didn’t know how she wanted to pop it, destroy it, smash it, she didn’t know
but it came to her as she smiled and called the girl over into a kind of
huddle, they all said that is so cool why didn’t we think of it, Lori told me
without letting Ron hear to go upstairs in her apartment and get her small
microwave, but not to bring it down until I had cut a small hole in the top
center of it. She told me there was a high speed dill with a cutting bit under
her sink she uses for wood work, that it should work to cut the hole in the
thin metal top. She was right it worked just fine. I made the hole thinking
Ron must have really ticked those two girls off , I lined it with duck tape so
it would not cut any thing off the girls did not want cut off. I kind of felt
bad helping them destroy Ron’s last bit of manhood but I also didn’t want to
piss them off at me. Beside Ron had sucked cocks, been ass fucked and lost his
large testicular already, he was on his way to being just like me not helping
them would not stop them from finishing the job anyway.
As I carried the small microwave down the stairs I could hear them all
giggling and having what sounded like a great time, I enter the cell and there
old Ron was still over that horse past out with cum dripping out his ass, his
legs had been pulled straight out and tied, Dame! that had to hurt when they
did that to him I didn‘t think a guy could spread his leg that much. His feet
where tied to the bars at each end of the jail cell but it was his cock that
was making the girls giggle so much, they had push what looked like hundred of
large and small pins thru it; a large baby pin was thru its head locked closed
with a thread pulling his cock out so they could fill it with needles. Alice
was just releasing the thread as I came into the cell, Ron’s cock looked hard
but it was just because it was so full of pins, it stood up like a rock hard
cock but it wasn’t hard. I could tell because it was not puffed up, it was
this thin thing filled with pins and I knew if his cock got hard when they
castrate his last testicle that it sure was going to hurt when it filled with
blood pushing out into all those pins.
.
Lori put a high stool under Ron and then woke him up, he saw the microwave and
just whimpered as a baby would after it had cried its self out. I put it on
the stool and Lori pushed Ron’s last nut thru the small hole in the top, Katy
plugged it in and opened the door, the light came on and there it was; Ron’s
last bit of manhood hanging right in the middle and half way down inside that
microwave. Anna wanted to close the door and cook it right away but Katy said
lets fill it with pins too, you all know what happens then you put metal in a
microwave, Susan said dame where do you get these great ideas girlfriend? that
will be so cool.
Katy went first pulling 5 pins in all out of his cock and pushing them into
Ron’s nut to his screams of pain, as his nut was being tortured he could not
stop his cock from getting hard it pushed all those pins deeper into his pin
filled cock meat. Alice did the same, Lori, Susan and Anna finished up , 25
pins now stuck into and thru his last testicle hanging inside that microwave
just waiting to be destroyed. Lori said get a camera setup so we can see it
blow, Anna held a camera and zoomed in on Katy closing the door and setting
the microwave for five minutes, but they all knew it would not take but a
tenth of that time to do the job.
A camera was set up in front of the door and the start button was pushed,
sparks came flying off the pins, Ron started screaming so Katy stuffed
someone’s wet panties she had picked up off the floor into his mouth, he
screamed till he could scream no more his bloody cock full of pins now rock
hard for the last time as a man. Then it happened; 15sec in with that
microwave set on high and his last nut exploded. They let his cords cook for
10 more seconds. Lori removed the stool out of the way and hit Ron with the
smelling salts as the girls all took turns pulling the pins from Ron’s pretty
much destroyed cock. If it did not heal they would have to cut it off but that
would be for some other time right now Susan cleaned up his past-out worthless
de-balled ass, Ron could not stay awake any more.
Susan had Anna push what was left of his burnt nut cords back inside him and
stitch up his sore bottom, as she untied his legs but left him tied over the
saw horse for the nutless gangbang party that started just an hour later. Ron
was serviced over and over again that night breaking in his ass-pussy and
mouth by some 30 large cocks his new life as a man bitch had begun. I was told
to suck their black sticks and keep them hard till it was their turn to fuck
his face or his cum filled ass. I was fucked too but everyone want a go at the
new nutless pussy boy first and that was just fine with me. The girls played
with their cunts laughing and calling us names as they filmed two white men
they made in to eunuchs being used as cheep faggots, sucking and getting
fucked over and over again by large well hung blacks.
.
The end
More de-ballings by Lori and the girls to follow
*Young female doctors or female veterinarians that are still thinking of me after story one and two if you want to castrate a human male, come do this human dog, am still ready to give you what we all know every woman dreams of doing and what I believe most man think of have done every time their balls get them in trouble in some way, my balls have not gotten me in any trouble in a long time and I would like to keep it that way. so write me at ottobeused@ yahoo.com
* * * |
|
Interview With A Cutter | TESTICLES | A cutter talks about his craft. | ` Dave is in his early 40’s. He’s been a cutter for the past three years. Dave
lives in California. `
How did you learn about castration?
I grew up on a farm in the Midwest, and I helped neuter animals. After awhile
I became quite good at it.
How many men have you castrated?
Seventeen so far. I have another one planned for later this week.
Are they mostly gay or straight?
I’d say it’s pretty much 50-50.
How do you meet these men?
A lot of them come through the Internet. The rest are from word-of-mouth
What are the ages of the men who come to you to be castrated?
Most are in their 30s and 40s, but a few have been older or younger than that.
The youngest was 18. I won’t do anybody younger than that.
Wow, that’s young. Tell me about him.
Well, he contacted me on the Internet and said he had to be castrated. When I
met him, I was surprised at how attractive he was. I kept asking why he wanted
to lose his balls so young, but he never gave me a good answer. He just
insisted that he knew they had to go.
I tried to talk him out of it. I made him come back in a week to be sure, and
he was still sure about it, so I gelded him. Afterwards he was very happy
about it.
Tell me how you castrate men.
I use the three standard methods: burdizzo, elastrator, and surgical removal
of the testicals.
Do you use anesthesia?
I always offer to use it, and most men want it. Sometimes a guy wants to try
without it, but after it starts they usually beg for it. It hurts like hell,
you know.
I imagine.
There was only one guy who went through the whole thing without anesthesia.
That blew my mind. He was screaming and crying but he kept saying no every
time I offered to give him the painkiller.
Do most men come by themselves?
Actually, most of them bring their girlfriend or wife or boyfriend.
Really?
Yeah, it’s true. In most cases, the guy is very passive and has agreed to be
neutered to please his partner. They stay and watch the whole procedure. Most
of the other ones who come alone usually have really small dicks and that’s
why they want to be castrated.
In one case, I castrated two guys at the same time. They wanted to become
eunuchs as kind of a commitment ceremony for each other. It was kind of sweet,
really. Each one cried as he watched the other one lose his balls.
Tell me step by step how you’d castrate somebody.
I always ask them to shave themselves to make it easier. When they arrive, I
tell them about the different options. Most of them choose the burdizzo,
probably about three-quarters.
Why is that?
Well, it’s cleaner. The elastrator has to stay on for a week or two before the
sack drops off. And most guys don’t want their sacks cut open and their balls
removed, so that rules out surgical castration.
Okay, please continue.
I do the procedure on my bed. I have the guy lie down and I put cuffs around
his wrists and ankles. I inject xylocaine into his scrotum until he can’t feel
it anymore. Then I ask him one last time whether or not he wants to change his
mind, because from that point on I’m not going to stop.
Do many change their minds at that point?
A few have, but that’s rare. After I start the castration, a few have changed
their mind, but I refuse to stop at that point.
If I’m using the burdizzo, I take a few minutes to make sure I have the
spermatic cords located. I place the clamp an inch or so above the testicle
and then compress it as hard as I can. I hold it there for 90 seconds to be
sure the cord has been crushed. Then I repeat the procedure on the other
testicle until he’s a eunuch.
The elastrator takes a lot longer. After I put the first band on, it takes a
half an hour before the balls really start to die. At that point I put on a
couple more bands as insurance. Then I give the guy a sedative and tell him to
sleep for awhile. By the time he wakes up a couple hours later, his nuts are
black and there’s no going back.
Tell me about surgical castration.
In some ways it’s the easiest for me to do. I make a cut in the center of the
sack, then extract the testicles, pulling them as far out as possible. Then I
tie off the cords to prevent bleeding and snip the balls. After a few
stitches, it’s all over.
What do you do with the balls?
Unless the guy wants them, I like to keep them. I have three pairs in my
kitchen. (smiles)
Is it true that some guys get hard-ons when they get castrated?
Yes, it is true. Almost all of them are hard just before I begin, and most ask
to be jerked off. I always oblige them. It’s not asking a lot, really. If I
really like the guy, I might give him head.
Tell me about the guys who change their minds after you’ve begun the
procedure.
Well there was this one guy who was around 30. He was totally sure he wanted
to be a eunuch until I had him all tied up and began to do it.
I had the burdizzo in my hand and was putting it around the cord leading to
his right ball. Just when I was about to start squeezing the clamp shut, he
begins screaming, “No, no please stop.”
So what happened then?
I just looked at him and calmly talked to him. I said, “Look, you know you
want me to do this. You wouldn’t have come this far otherwise.” But he kept
crying and thrashing around saying, “No, it was just a fantasy. I don’t really
want you to do it.”
The thing is, his cock was totally hard. He had a huge erection. That told me
that this was bullshit, he really wanted to lose his balls. If a guy was
really scared, he wouldn’t be hard.
So, I just did it. He yelled and cried the whole time, but after I was
finished he calmed down. Then he told me that he really was glad it happened,
that he just didn’t have the guts to go through with it.
Do you do penectomies?
No, never. That’s a lot more complicated and I just don’t have the training.
Would you want to be castrated?
That’s a good question. I have to admit I’ve thought a lot about it. I usually
get an erection when I’m de-balling a guy. Maybe someday I’ll find a cutter
and get myself done (smiles).
* * * |
The Mad Butcher | STRAIGHT, PENECTOMY, TESTICLES, MINOR | He Gave His All To Enter her World: My way of thanking Bboy for his efforts on the web! | The Mad Butcher
I watched her pass by. I watched her pass by everyday.
I operate a small butcher shop in a small town in South Carolina,
business isn't great but the view from my window is. I have a nice
big display cabinet, it faces the customers so that the meat is
displayed for them, and I can see out.
She must see me watching her everyday; she must know what I'm
thinking. She dresses in cutoff jeans, a halter-top and white tennis
shoes; the only change in her routine is a different halter-top, or a
tube top, occasionally. Her blonde hair is pulled straight back and
held by a band in a ponytail. She passes by at about 10 am everyday,
she doesn't alter her routine, just walks slowly by at 10 am
everyday. I want to run out and grab her and say come in look at my
meat, buy my meat, take my meat. But, I don't, I simply watch her
pass by everyday.
Last Friday, she stopped in front of the store and looked in,
the routine was broken, I gave my best smile, motioned for her to
come in, and she did. "Y'all sell ground beef?" her voice was like
music, she was local, not a carpetbagger! "Little lady, I could scare
you up a batch right now." She looked even younger up close, her skin
was perfect, her small breasts were uplifted, even without a bra, and
her hips were slim, almost boyish.
"Nah, not right now, just wanted to know, thanks", and with
that she left the store, my eyes followed her pert little butt,
enclosed in denim, as she left.
Left with the quick impression, my mind built up a fantasy to
fill in the details. I saw her look at me, come around the counter
and say, "My, my you have some nice meat back here too, you should
put that in the display case!" as she grabs my balls.
Lost in my imagery I didn't see her return. "You all right Mister"
she said looking at my glazed eyes and sweaty forehead. "Sure, sure
Darling' How can old Joe help you? Want that ground beef?"
"Yessir, that would be fine, about a pound please" I went into the
back, cut a piece of round and brought it out. "This is the best I
got Darling'" She moved up on her tiptoes to see over the counter and
said, "Looks great, could you hurry, I don't want to be late."
She had the package under her arm, gave me a wave and swept out of
the store. I don't even remember grinding the meat! I have an old
manual system, don't like those automatic gadgets. I went into the
back, took the wooden plunger out of the top of the grinder and as I
cleaned the system, I thought of her cooking the meat. Images of
hamburger patties on the grill filled my mind and her opening her
mouth to take that first delicious bite. Juices flowing from the rare
burger, her wiping her lips with the back of her hand to remove those
juices from her lips.
The image of those lips opening, her tongue licking her lips, the
unattainable feel of her body and her slim hips in my hands. It was
overwhelming. I closed the shop, went into the back and did my best
to release the unbearable tension that she had caused.
She came in the next day, and the next, each time buying a pound of
ground beef. I asked her name and she giggled "Martha's my name, but
everyone calls me Moth, because they say I'm attracted to fire." "Hi
Moth I replied, live around here"
She told me that she was staying with her mother, they had moved down
from Macon County, and her mother was working at the new tourist
restaurant downtown in Charleston. She was off for the summer, just
taking dance lessons each morning and swimming each afternoon.
I said "Well, be sure and come back." "Be back tomorrow." She replied
as she adjusted her halter-top.
I was waiting for her. I was nervous and had difficulty breathing,
but I knew what I had to do. "Hi Joe, more of the same, please." I
went in the back, brought out the round steak for her approval and
went into the back; she always smiled and raised her eyes when I
brought out the steak. I placed the steak on the board, and got the
old wooden plunger out. I dropped my pants and placed my large penis
on the board, and looking at her through the one-way mirror, I cut
off my penis just in front of the band I had placed on it an hour
ago.
Trying not to think of the pain, I placed my detached penis into the
hopper with the ground round and turned the handle to make her ground
beef. I wrapped it carefully and brought out the package. I was in
shock, and knew it. She took the package and said, "Joe you didn't
weight it, how much do I owe you?" I barely got out, "Free today,
gift for my special customer." With a "Thanks Joe", she went out of
the store and on her merry way. "See you tomorrow." Were her last
words as she left.
The next day was lovely, I was sore as hell, but the image of that
hamburger, and me being a part of her sustained me. She showed up at
the same time. She had a brilliant smile on her face and said, "Joe
that was the best ground beef, how about two pounds today!"
I had prepared myself for her; the band around my balls was killing
them. "Sure sweetheart" I said, "It'll take a few extra minutes, OK"
She replied, "Don't need to hurry today, got to meet mom and some
friends at the house at 2, so I've got plenty of time."
I went in the back, watching her with that causal look of youth; I
put my swollen balls on the block and sliced them neatly from my
body. The band held, but the shock was still there. I wrapped each
one in the round steak and made first one then the other of the
ground beef packages for her.
I came out of the back, walking was difficult, but I had to finish.
She again flashed that incredible pure southern smile and
said "Thanks Joe, I must pay for this today, no more freebies!" I
weighed the packages, and handed them to her, first one then the
other. She took them and placed them on top of the display case and
looked at the meats in the case.
Her eyes were looking at my body through the case, She looked up and
saw my flushed face, thinking it was a result of her staring she
smiled sweetly and said, "You've been watching me haven't you?", when
I just stood there and stared she said, "See you tomorrow Joe."
At this point, I was a total eunuch, I thought that my obsession
would end but I still couldn't stop from thinking of her. I thought
of her grilling up the beef, making the nice little patties, shaping
them in her hands, then grilling them. I was driving myself crazy.
I thought of not opening, I was very sore, the Elastrator had
controlled the bleeding but movement caused pain. She came in the
same time but her routine was different. Dressed the same, her
breasts encircled the pointed nipples that were raised by the
friction with the halter. Her jeans didn't cover much. I didn't have
anything else to give. "I hope you didn't mind me tying the dog up
outside, Mom wanted me to take care of him today."
I looked up and saw a mutt tied to the railing in front of
the store. I looked back at her and she said, "Everyone just loved
the burgers last night, I nearly didn't have enough for Rover." I
turned white, the blood draining from my face; "You didn't eat the
burgers?" She again flashed that brilliant smile, "Oh no, I never
touch meat, but I do have a thing for Butchers." Coming around the
counter she lifted my apron and reached for my balls. |
My clit has gone | NULLIFICATION | The story of my clit band labia removal.I apologise that my english is not fluent so i send you that story in french | My clit has gone !!!!
Bonjour,
Je m’appelle Martine , j’ai 40 ans et je suis dpuis 15 ans la soumise de
Maître F.
C’est un choix de vie que j’ai fait, que j’assume totalement et que j’interdis
ŕ quiconque de me reprocher.
Je suis donc une femme, petite( 1m56), brune, mais ca ne se voit plus car je
vis sans poils ; j’ai un tatouage sur le crane, un sur l’epaule, un sur le
sein, un dans le creux des reins, un sur la cheville un sur le pubis et,
sutout un F sur une levre du sexe, signe de ma totale soumission.
Comme je l’ai dit plus haut, je suis totalement epilee, j’ai fait faire une
epilation deinitive de mes jambes, de mes aisselles et de mon sexe (ca fait
tres mal mais le resultat en vaut la chandelle) et depuis 4 ans je me rase
aussi le crane, que j’ai fait tatouer- un grand motif tribal-
Je travaille a mi-temps dans une grande societe de Marseille et personne
–aucun de mes collegues de boulot ne connaît ma reelle situation de soumise,
bien sűr je porte une peruque mais Maître F y a mis le prix et on ne decele
rien a l’śil nu, si ce n’est que ma coiffure est toujours la męme.
Je suis aussi percee les oreilles bieb sur( 10 anneaux a l’oreille droite, 8
sur la gauche) le nez, la langue, la levre, les seins( un anneau horizontal et
un labret vertical) le nombril et le sexe mais la j’y reviendrais plus bas.
Je suis en train d’ecrire mon histoire, sur l’ordre de Maître F ; je suis
assise, nue, devant l’ordi, sur un siege qu’il m’a specialement fabrique .En
fait c’est un tabouret en bois dont il a remplace l’assis par un cône en latex
que j’enfile dans mon anus. Le cône est gradue et j’atteins aujourd’hui une
dilatation de 7,5 centimetres de diametre- pas mal non ?
Maître F a, bien sur pense a tout et j’ai dans ma doche 2 pammeaux, un normal
et l’autre une canule que j’utilise quotidiennement pour me faire un lavement
afin de ne pas souiller mon siege.
Mais revenons au fil de mon histoire.Maitre F avait pour habitude de
m’attacher, bras en l’air et de fixer des poids de plus en plus lourds a mes
petites levres- on etait arrive a deus poids de 800 grammes, ce qui apres des
annees de ce traitement faisait que mes petites levres etaient si distendues
qu’on pouvat les attacher ensmble, faire un nśud !!!!
Nous avons fini par trover ca disgracieux ; elles pendaient de plus de 15
centimetres, elles etaient parfois aussi longues que mes jupes et, comme je
n’ai pas le droit de porter de sous-vetement, ca devenait genant.
Comme vous avez pu le comprendre, le souci de Maitre F est de fermer mon
vagin, car il ne l’utilise jamais ; il prefere mon anus, c’est pour ca qu’il
le dilate depuis 15 ans, il dit qu’il est tres agreable.Lui aussi sait ce qui
est bon car souvent il me ramene des petits mignons a la maison et il se fait
sodomiser devant moi qui suis generalement attachee pour l’occasion ; je peux
vous dire qu’il apprecie ; quand il ne trouve personne ,il me demande de le
prendre avec un gode ceinture…………..
Dans ces cas la j’ai droit au fouet apres, parfois il assume mal ses pulsions.
Revenons a mon sexe, nous le trouvions disgracieux. Nous avons contacte Maître
T, un copain medecin.Apres un petit examen il nous a dit une petite operation,
deux coups de sclpel et tout sera a nouveau normal.
Rendez-vous pris pour le 4 juillet.
Maître F avait decide, pour l’occasion , de se faire circoncire lui aussi, il
est vrai qu’il avait un prepuce tres log, d’autant plus qu’il a un pecing au
frein – que j’ai tenu a ce qu’il garde- qui faisait allonger le tout. ;
Nous arrivons donc dans le cabinet de Maître T.
Je me deshabille, ce qui est rapide car, en ete, je ne porte qu’une petite
robe sans rien dessous et je m’installe sur la table gynecologique, position
que j’adore !!!!!!!!
Je ne voulais pas d’anesthesie pour offrir ma douleur a Maître F, mais maître
T preferait pour que je ne sois pas l’objet de « ruades intempestives ».
J’ai donc accepte et il a commence a me faire de piqures autour du vagin-pas
agreables du tout-
Puis il a dit « on y va »
Maître a filme toute l’operation.
Maître T a pris son scalpel et il a commence a couper mes levres ; je n’ai
rien senti, je voyais juste arriver des morceaux de peau dans la coupelle a
cote de moi et ce qui se passait sur le moniteur qu’ils avaient tourne vers
moi.
Au bout de deux minutes c’etait fini, il a essuye le peu de sang qui suintait
et j’ai vu mon sexe, debarrasse de ces levres qui pendaient, mais, par contre,
avec un genre de gros bouton au dessus.
C’est quoi ca ? j’ai demande
Ton clitoris.
C’est pas beau, c’est gros, tu peux pas l’enlever ?
Je peux tout faire, mais tu es sure que c’est ce que tu veus, et, peut etre
que ton ma^tre a son mot a dire ?
Tu dis quoi ?de toute facon on ne s’en sert pas et, par amour, je te l’offre.
O.K.enleve.
La c’est moi qui parle: je sais que le clito est tres profond.
Oui, c’est vrai repond le toubib.
Alors va le chercher loin , je veux en etre totalement debarassee.
Oui, mais je vais te refaire une piqure car je dois inciser.
Fais..
La, l’injection dans le clito, je l’ai sentie, je me suis mise a
pleurer.Maître F ma demande :tu veux continuer ?
Oui sans appel.
MaiîtreT a incise mon pubis sur 2 centimetres, au ras du tatouage, puis il est
alle chercher mon bouton profond, je le voyais me charcuter sans rien dire.
Voilŕ ,c’est le point de non retour ; 5 centimetres , je coupe ?
Coupe !
Et j’ai vu arriver dans la coupellr un petit morceau de chair, ca y etait
j’etais excisee.
Apres il m’a cauterisee bandee, puis nous sommes passes a la circoncision de
Maître F.
Je sentais une douleur diffuse venir dans mon entrejambe, mais je tenais a
voir et a participerMaître T m’a dit : c’est simple, il a tire sur le prepuce
puis il m’a dit : tu veux couper ?
J’ai repondu : oui.
Il m’a tendu le scalpel, mon sexe me faisait de plus en plus mal, j’ai coupe,
en rond pour conserver le percing.
J’etais fiere.
FIN DE LA PREMIERE EPOQUE
* * * |
The Tribes, Chapter 15 | GAY, DEATH, NULLIFICATION | The Brotherhood of the Phoenix raids and captures another Tribe. Nathaniel plots against Gull with unforseen results. | ` The Tribes, Chapter 15 `
Nolan, the head of the green-robed Seekers, licked his lips nervously as he
waited outside the conference room door. Nolan knew The Leader was chafing at
the prolonged forced inactivity. He also knew equally as well that much of the
reason The Brotherhood hadn’t moved on was because the Seekers had been forced
to take longer than usual as they reconnoitered the next town. Once the
initial recce was finished, it was Nolan’s job to find or make detailed maps
of the area and approaches so The Leader could decide where to stage the
Thunder Strike.
The conference room doors opened and Alpha stuck his blue-haired head out to
invite Nolan into the room. Taking a deep breath, Nolan gathered up his large
portfolio case and stepped into the conference room. The Leader was standing
at the middle of a heavy oak conference table. Beta, clad in his electric blue
robes, sat to The Leader’s left. An empty chair to The Leader’s right was
obviously Alpha’s place. Gull, looking even more vulture-like than usual,
stood on the other side of the room by the large picture window. At the end of
the conference table was Bull, the head of the soldier divisions. His white
robes were trimmed in silver braid to set his apart from the regular soldiers.
True to his name, Bull was broad shouldered and chested. His bleached white
hair was usually cropped so short he looked almost bald. The Leader looked up
and indicated an empty chair directly opposite from him. Nolan quickly made
his way to the chair and took his place.
“I’m getting restless,” The Leader said slowly. “The soldiers are getting lazy
– we’ve been in one place and inactive for far too long.”
“I understand, Leader,” Nolan said, swallowing hard. “The fact is that the
next target you chose presented my Seeker teams with some unusual challenges.
We were forced to expand our recce wider than we normally would have. But, I
think the information we’ve managed to gather will prove worth the wait.”
“Is that a fact?” The Leader asked, one eyebrow raised.
“Yes, Leader,” Nolan confirmed. He lifted his portfolio. “If I may, Leader,
I’ll show you what we’ve gathered.” The Leader nodded his head once,
indicating Nolan should continue. “As we all know, the next target is the town
of Dutch Creek.”
Nolan removed a large-scale map encased in clear acetate from his case and
spread it out on the table. Five wide red circles had been drawn on the
acrylic overlay. Each of the circles overlapped. He tapped two circles located
on each side of the four-lane road leading into Dutch Creek.
“These four circles … two each on either side of the road … indicate guard
posts … there are always two at each post, and at least three on roving guard
at all times,” Nolan said.
“And the larger circle back here?” Beta asked, indicating the fifth circle.
“That is a command outpost and barracks,” Nolan explained. “It’s located in an
old church. The number of Tribe members residing at the command post varies …
but, it’s usually around fifty people.”
“What kind of schedule are the roving guards on?” The Leader asked.
“That was one of the problems, Leader,” Nolan said. “They aren’t on a regular
schedule. At first, it seemed that their roving patrols were haphazard. The
truth is that the roving patrols are carefully scheduled to prevent routine
from settling in.”
“This Tribe sounds very cautious,” Gull observed from across the room.
“They are on their perimeter, sir,” Nolan confirmed.
“What about the town?” Alpha asked.
“Actually, it doesn’t exist anymore,” Nolan said as he pulled a new acetate
overlay from his case and laid it over the map. Large black boxes marked the
central downtown section of the town. “At some point, a fire … actually, it
was probably a series of fires destroyed all of the downtown section and large
sections of residential neighborhoods.” Nolan looked around the table. “This
is the major reason our recce took so long –we knew that at least one Tribe
inhabited Dutch Creek.”
“So where are they?” Alpha growled.
Nolan permitted himself a small grin as he brought out yet another acetate
overlay. This one had a large green circle on it. Placing the overlay on top
of the map and existing overlay, Nolan explained that the Tribe was located
almost eight miles outside of town at an old summer camp.
“Strength?” The Leader asked.
“Again, it’s hard to be exact,” Nolan said. “But, the closest estimate is that
there are about one hundred and fifty Tribe members – one hundred of them at
the camp and the rest at the outposts I indicated earlier.”
“What’s the security like at the camp?” The Leader asked.
Nolan grinned broadly, “Almost non-existent.” Nolan produced a large-scale map
he had made showing the entire camp. “There is a guard booth at the main gate
… never more than three people are on the gate.” Nolan traced his finger along
what appeared to be a narrow, broad-bottomed valley at the far side of the
camp. “This is an old canal bed – it’s totally dry now and about eight feet
deep. Two guards patrol along the top. Most of the time, they stand close to
the middle together and chat their shift away.”
The Leader studied Nolan’s map of the camp. “What’s this area here,” he
indicated an open space between the cabins and the baseball field.”
“That’s an assembly area,” Nolan replied. “The rectangle at the front
indicates a raised stage.” Nolan began pointing out the various landmarks of
the camp. “This big building here is a combination recreation hall and dining
facility.” He moved his finger to a cabin that was slightly smaller than the
other buildings. “This is the cabin where the Tribe leaders sleep.”
“Leaders, as in plural?” Alpha asked.
“Yes, there are five of them total,” Nolan confirmed. His finger jabbed at the
other cabins. “There are seven additional cabins here…”
“What is this green squiggly line?” The Leader interrupted.
“That indicates a heavy woods,” Nolan explained.
“I’d say we wait until the Tribe goes to the dining hall for breakfast or
lunch,” Beta suggested. “We’d catch them all at once – a perfect situation for
a Thunder Strike. We’d have the element of surprise.”
“Good point,” The Leader agreed. He turned to face Bull who had remained
silent so far. “Bull, what do you think?”
“That plan should work, I agree,” Bull said slowly. He stood and leaned over
the map, studying it intently. “How far from the woods are these cabins? It
looks pretty close.”
“It is,” Nolan confirmed. “The cabins are about ten yards from the edge of the
woods.”
“Could your Seekers act as guides and get my soldiers from the dry canal and
into position in these woods?”
“Easily, Bull,” Nolan said.
Bull finally looked up, grinning savagely, “In that case, I’d recommend we
strike before dawn while the Tribe is asleep. Our surprise would be total –
they’d all be asleep in their bunks and totally disoriented.”
“Yes, that would work,” The Leader said. “Anything else, Bull?”
“Well, if we have two squads enter from each end of every cabin, we’d could
herd the Tribe out of the cabin and across the grounds to the assembly area.
My soldiers could ring that area and keep everyone under control nicely.”
“What about the Tribe leader cabin?” The Leader asked.
“I assumed Gull would want to have his Enforcers take that cabin,” Bull said,
glancing deferentially towards the Enforcer chief.
“That works for me,” Gull said, his eyes feral and grim. “Once we have control
of the camp, the Scroungers could go through the dining hall building and take
charge of their food provisions.”
The Leader turned to Nolan, “How long will it take your and your Seekers to
guide Bull’s soldiers into position?”
“Once we leave the dry canal and head into the woods, I’d say about three
hours,” Nolan said after a few moments.
“Why so long?” Alpha asked.
“Noise,” Nolan explained. “The ground is covered in dry leaves and branches.
The Brothers can move stealthily in most situations, but with so much
potential to make noise it is better if we take a little extra time so as not
to spoil the element of surprise.”
“Gentlemen,” The Leader looked around the room, “this is why it’s always worth
waiting for Nolan – even if he does sometimes arrive late. He provides us with
everything needed for every Thunder Strike to be successful.” He turned to
Nolan; “If we set out at midnight can we be in place before dawn?”
“Most certainly, Leader,” Nolan assured him.
“Then it’s settled,” The Leader said. “We move tonight.”
Nolan detailed three of his Seekers to guide two of Bull’s soldier squads to
capture the guard posts and outpost barracks along the highway. The rest of
his Seekers were attached to Bull’s attack squads, which would be storming the
cabins at the camp. Nolan himself would guide Gull and The Leader to the main
cabin. Once the assignments were made, Nolan ordered his Seekers to eat
lightly and get as much sleep as possible so they could be alert for the raid.
Moving through the woods, Nolan signaled for a stop. He moved his head from
side to side listening in the darkness. Occasionally, he could hear a crunch
of leaves or the snap of a dry branch. Surprisingly, the large number of
soldiers was able to move with as little noise as possible. Signaling his
group to continue moving, Nolan guided them to a point just behind the main
cabin. Gull and his crimson-robed Enforcers were almost invisible in the deep
shadows. He could just make out The Leader’s lighter robes behind Gull. Moving
silently, Nolan whispered that he was going to move along the tree line to
make sure every attack squad was in place and ready for the signal to attack.
Gliding from shadow to shadow and from tree to tree, Nolan made his way down
the line to check that each squad was in place and ready to move on Bull’s
signal. With every squad in place, Nolan gave the order to his Seeker guides
to take the squads into position at each end of the cabins. Nolan moved
through the trees and took up a position by Bull’s side. This was the riskiest
part of the raid – the time when the element of surprise could be lost if
someone woke up to answer a call of nature and glanced out the window. In less
than five minutes, an attack squad of white-robed soldiers was waiting at
either end of each cabin. Bull raised a black plastic whistle to his lips and
gave two short, shrill blasts.
The raiding squads moved on the first shrill blast of the whistle, the doors
at each end of the cabins burst inward as the raiders poured into the
buildings screaming and shouting. From his position by Bull’s side, Nolan
could hear the confused cries of surprise as the sleeping Tribe members were
suddenly roused from a peaceful slumber. They had no chance to resist before
being swept out of the cabins – most were wearing underpants only. A small few
wore jogging shorts and T-shirts. None of them had anything covering their
bare feet.
Bull’s soldiers expertly herded the prisoners to the assembly field where they
took up positions surrounding the captured and confused Tribe members. From
start to finish, the raid had taken just a little more than five minutes.
Congratulating Bull, Nolan hurried off to join The Leader and the others at
the main cabin.
Nolan reached the main cabin in time to find the new Enforcer, Nathaniel
moving down the line of five prisoners. Nathaniel was busy slicing off
prisoner’s underwear and leaving them naked and exposed. Gull already had one
prisoner on his knees and was busy shearing off the prisoner’s thick mop of
ginger curls. From time to time Gull had to bat the kid’s hands away as he
reached up to feel the damage being done to his mane.
The Leader stood to one side of the cabin staring intently at the prisoners
lined up against the wall, studying their expressions. A feral smile spread
across his features as he raised his finger and pointed towards a tall,
muscular teen with a thick mane of floppy golden blond hair. Glancing towards
the prisoner The Leader was indicating, Nolan figured the guy must have been
on a swim team at some point in the past – at least, he had the slender,
muscular build he associated with swimmers.
“You,” The Leader said softly, moving across the room to stand in front of the
blond. “You’re the head man for this Tribe, aren’t you?”
“I am,” the blond said, turning clear blue eyes on The Leader.
“Your name?” The Leader asked.
“Morgan,” the blond replied coolly.
“And just what do you call this Tribe of yours?”
“The Eagle Tribe,” Morgan replied.
“The Eagle Tribe,” The Leader repeated. He turned to face the Brothers in the
room, a sneering grin on his face. “Anyone want to bet Morgan used to be a Boy
Scout … an Eagle Scout even?”
“You’re right, I was,” Morgan said evenly. “And, I’m not ashamed of it,
either. Being an Eagle Scout taught me a lot of good lessons.”
“Well, it doesn’t look like it taught you how to stand up for yourselves,” The
Leader sneered. “You call yourselves Tribe leaders and yet you stand passively
by and watch one of your number being humiliated and do nothing.” He pointed
towards Gull who was almost finished shearing the ginger curls from the boy
kneeling before him.
“Jamie will get along just fine without his hair,” Morgan said. “Resisting
would only needlessly risk everyone’s safety. You clearly outnumber us … the
smartest thing to do at this point is cooperate.”
“Oh, you’re going to cooperate?” The Leader asked.
Morgan nodded, “As head of this Tribe, my biggest concern is for the physical
safety of the Tribe members. So, go ahead with your raid … take our supplies.
No one is going to interfere … take what you want and go on your way. We’ve
survived raids before.”
“So, we can just take what we want?” The Leader asked. “And, you’ll cooperate
and not resist?
“That’s what I said,” Morgan replied.
The Leader reached up and grabbed a handful of Morgan’s thick golden hair,
“What if I want to take all this pretty hair of yours?”
Morgan did his best not to wince as he said evenly, “It won’t be the first
time I had my head shaved. I used to shave it all the time before swim meets.”
From the other side of the room, Nathaniel groaned inwardly. Morgan clearly
thought that by being cooperative he was protecting his Tribe from physical
harm. Maybe that tactic had worked to protect the Tribe in the past, but that
tactic was only going to spur The Leader to further atrocities. Nathaniel
watched as The Leader dragged Morgan across the cabin by the hair, forcing him
to his knees in front of Gull. Morgan was barely on his knees when the click-
clack of Gull’s hand clippers filled the small cabin.
Nathaniel ignored Gull’s activities – he’d seen heads shaved before. He’d even
experienced it himself. Nathaniel watched intently as The Leader forced Jamie
into a wooden armchair. A signal from The Leader was all that was needed to
bring two Enforcers to his side. Nathaniel watched The Leader whisper
instructions to the Enforcers. In moments, Jamie’s arms were tightly lashed to
the chair’s arms and the chair was pushed tight against the wooden table in
the middle of the room. Nathaniel’s stomach clenched when Jamie’s hands were
forced onto the tabletop.
Gull was just making the last passes with his straight razor over Morgan’s
scalp, dry shaving him smooth, when The Leader once again began questioning
the head of the Eagle Tribe. “I’m surprised … you didn’t protest or complain
in the slightest as Gull shaved off every lock of your hair.”
“I told you we’d cooperate fully,” Morgan said. “And, like I said, a smooth
scalp is nothing new to me.”
“So, you really are serious we can taken anything we want,” The Leader said
coyly. “I’m not sure you really mean that, but we’ll soon find out.”
On the assembly field Caleb Kennedy stretched as he tried to work out the
kinks in his shoulders. Ever since being herded out of the cabins, the members
of Eagle Tribe had been forced to stand still with their hands clasped behind
their heads. Furtively glancing around, Caleb was amazed at the sheer numbers
of the attackers. There had to be at least two hundred or more raiders in
white robes surrounding them. Then there were even more raiders in green
robes, some in yellow and even some in blood red robes. There were even dozens
of bald-headed members of the attacking Tribe. The bald-headed attackers were
totally naked except for canvas slip on sneakers. The attackers came from the
biggest Tribe Caleb had ever seen. Each of the white-robed raiders surrounding
the assembly field was armed with a baseball bat or machetes making even the
thought of escape seem foolhardy.
Caleb gave a sudden start when the air was suddenly filled with unearthly
screaming. The screams came from the head cabin and grew in intensity. The
screams were unlike anything Caleb had ever heard in his life before … they
just went on and on, undulating and piercing. Once, Caleb thought he could
make out the single word ‘NO’ shrieked over and over. As suddenly as the
screaming started, it stopped filling the camp with an eerie silence. Caleb’s
stare bored into the head cabin as if he could will himself to see though the
walls and find out what was happening. Three figures in robes emerged from the
head cabin and headed straight for the assembly area. One figure wore gold
robes and the other two were in robes of electric blue.
Seeing the figures approaching, the white-robed raiders began chanting, “LEA –
DER! LEA—DER! LEA – DER!
Striding onto the stage at the front of the assembly area, the one called
Leader faced the prisoners and his own troops, silently savoring the adulation
the chants. Suddenly, he thrust his hands up in the air high over his head and
hands balled into fists crossed his arms at the wrists above his head. The
chanting stopped at once.
“POWER AND CHAOS!” The Leader bellowed, his voice ringing out in the crisp
early morning air.
“POWER AND CHAOS!” came the chanted reply from his robed followers.
For at least ten minutes, the litany and response of ‘Power and Chaos’ filled
the morning air. Glancing around, Caleb noticed that some of his own
Tribemates were beginning to quietly take up the chant. With a jerk, The
Leader brought his hands down to his sides and the chanting stopped. The
sudden silence seemed oppressive to Caleb. The hair on the back of his neck
was standing on end. He waited to see what came next.
“From the ashes of the past, the Phoenix brings The Brotherhood what?” The
Leader bellowed.
“Power to create to create a new society,” came the chanted reply.
“And the Phoenix brings what to our enemies?”
“Chaos!” the chanted reply answered.
“POWER!” The Leader bellowed.
“CHAOS!” The Brotherhood chanted.
Caleb endured the litany for another ten or fifteen minutes, wondering if The
Leader ever got hoarse. With each chorus of ‘Power and Chaos’ the robed
raiders seemed to get more and more worked up and frenzied. The Leader finally
signaled for silence and began pacing from one end of the stage to the other.
Caleb watched him carefully, wondering what The Leader had planned next.
“You are presented with a wonderful opportunity today,” The Leader said, his
voice ringing clear and full in the morning air. “You have witnessed and
experienced the power of The Brotherhood of the Phoenix. Now, the opportunity
to be one of the Chosen is yours. You can serve The Brotherhood as one of the
Chosen and receive the benefits of our power.”
“What do we have to do?” A voice called from the ranks of the prisoners. Caleb
looked around sharply, trying to identify the speaker. He thought the voice
sounded a lot like Larry Fisher, but he couldn’t be sure.
“That’s a good question,” The Leader said. “And, the answer is very simple –
all you have to do to join the elite of the Brotherhood is to kneel down and
swear your allegiance to the Phoenix. Pledge your loyalty to me as The Leader
and renounce your former Tribe affiliations.” The Leader looked around, a very
reasonable expression on his face. “That’s not so much to ask. In return, you
get to serve the community of the Brotherhood in bringing a new order to the
world.”
The Leader strode to the edge of the stage and signaled towards the main
cabin. On cue, Gull led his crimson-robed Enforcers from the cabin. Caleb
could see the raiders were frog marching a couple of figures along.
“There are those who will urge potential converts to deny themselves this
opportunity to serve with the Brotherhood to bring the New Order to this sad
world,” The Leader said, turning back to the prisoners. “They think they can
turn their backs on the opportunity to serve in such a noble cause. They are
wrong! They also shall serve – as slaves of the Brotherhood.”
Gull marched onto the stage, his Enforcers finally breaking ranks to reveal
Jamie and Morgan. Caleb was stunned to see that both were naked and had been
shaved bald. Four of the Enforcers forced their two prisoners to kneel on the
stage. Caleb noticed that both had been gagged to prevent them from crying
out.
“You might think your old Tribe leaders had been doing a good job by you,” The
Leader said, pointing contemptuously at the two naked kneeling figures. “But,
you’d be wrong! They made absolutely no move to protect you or their own. Your
leader, Morgan, eagerly offered us the opportunity to take anything – anything
at all that we wanted. He did nothing when the one called Jamie was forced to
endure having his head shaved. He did nothing when his head was shaved. At
that point, he again told us to take anything we pleased – that he wouldn’t
oppose us and would refuse to allow any of you to refuse us.”
The Leader nodded to Gull who ordered two Enforcers to lift Jamie to his feet.
A gasp moved through the Eagle Tribe prisoners – once Jamie was on his feet,
it was easy to see he had been castrated. Where his balls had been there was
nothing at all – balls and sac were just gone.
“As you can see,” The Leader announced. “Slaves to The Brotherhood have no
need of their testicles – they are no longer males. They are just slaves.”
The Enforcers holding Jamie up suddenly brought his hands from behind his
back. Caleb felt sour bile rise in his throat and choked it back down. Every
one of Jamie’s long, slender fingers had been hacked off. Caleb felt his eyes
burn hotly with tears as he remembered those fingers making beautiful music on
the violin. Caleb knew that playing the violin was the one thing Jamie
passionately loved, and now he’d never play again.
“As you can clearly see, this one has already suffered a severe penalty for
refusing to kneel and pledge his allegiance to The Brotherhood,” The Leader
said scornfully. “I’m sure none of you wish to suffer the same fate as these
two foolish and pitiful excuses did.”
Caleb was shocked when one by one about a quarter of the Eagle Tribe began
dropping to their knees, heads bowed. He heard someone mutter, ‘All power to
The Leader.”
The Leader nodded benignly, a wide smile splitting his face, “Welcome to the
fold my new Brothers.” He looked up at the rest of the prisoners. “Be sure of
your decision – one way or another you will serve The Brotherhood. The choice
is all yours … you can serve as members of The Brotherhood and be a part of
the new Power sweeping across the world. Or, you can serve as slaves to The
Brotherhood and lose your manhood, never tasting of the Power that could have
been yours.”
On The Leader’s signal, Gull had two more Enforcers force Morgan to his feet.
Caleb hung his head in shame for his friend. Morgan hadn’t just been
castrated. His penis had been removed as well. A long, angry looking red weal
ran from just below his navel and disappeared between his legs. Even from
where he stood, Caleb could see that the ugly cut had been crudely stitched
together. The rest of the prisoners dropped to their knees en masse and began
pledging their allegiance to The Leader. Morgan began to sink down and then
suddenly stopped himself. Straightening, he turned a defiant face towards the
stage as he shook his thick chestnut hair from his face. Looking around, he
found he was the only one standing.
A look of surprise flashed across The Leader’s face before he asked Caleb,
“You would share the fate of those up here and turn your back on the benefits
of The Brotherhood?”
“I’d rather burn in Hell than willingly serve a puke like you,” Caleb spat
contemptuously.
Onstage, Nathaniel suddenly stepped up to Gull’s side and began whispering in
his ear. Listening to his protégé, Gull began smiling as he nodded his head
and affectionately patted Nathaniel’s face. Gull moved over to The Leader,
whispering Nathaniel’s suggestion to him. The Leader turned to look first at
Nathaniel, then past him to one of the cabins, and finally to Caleb. His face
broke into a feral grin.
“Are you sure you’d rather burn than serve The Brotherhood?” The Leader asked
Caleb.
“It’s better than bowing down to the likes of you,” Caleb snarled.
The Leader bowed graciously to Caleb, “Very well, your wish is granted.”
Lowering his voice as he turned to Gull, The Leader instructed, “Put Nathaniel
in charge of this exercise. It will be a good test of his abilities.”
“My thoughts exactly, Leader,” Gull said softly. A sly look crossed his face,
“If I might make a suggestion?”
“Of course – you know how much I admire your touch in these matters,” The
Leader smiled.
“This defiant prisoner must be admired for his bravery in being the only one
to oppose you,” Gull said.
“Perhaps slightly,” The Leader conceded. “Where are you going with this line
of reasoning?”
“He deserves to have a dog or slave share his fate as an honor to his bravery
… however foolish,” Gull explained. “We can order Nathaniel to have his old
friend Wolf join this prisoner’s fate.”
“Another test of Nathaniel’s loyalty, my friend?” The Leader asked with a
knowing grin.
“Of course,” Gull admitted. “Is his total loyalty to us or is there still
residual loyalty to his old friends?”
“I like your thinking,” The Leader said. “Give the order.”
Nathaniel listened in respectful silence as Gull ordered him to select ten
worker slaves to help him carry out his plan. When Gull added that Wolf should
share Caleb’s fate, Nathaniel nodded and complimented his superior on
improving the original plan. Bowing, Nathaniel hurried from the stage to
select his ten worker slaves. Once he had his team selected, Nathaniel ordered
five of the slaves to seize Caleb and the other five to bring Wolf along.
Without waiting for the worker slaves to respond, Nathaniel strode off towards
the cabin he had selected.
Entering the cabin, Nathaniel paced up and down the main aisle between the
bunk beds. He wasn’t alone long before the two teams of slaves entered with
their prisoners. Nathaniel ordered the slaves to tie Caleb and Wolf hand and
foot so they could get down to work. As soon as Wolf heard he was to be tied,
he began protesting that he hadn’t done anything to deserve punishment.
Nathaniel reacted swiftly; slapping Wolf across the face and ordering him to
hold his tongue or else have it cut out. The threat was enough to stifle
Wolf’s protests.
“Okay, now that we know the prisoners aren’t going anywhere, we can get to
work,” Nathaniel said in his most imperious tone of voice. He stood next to
one of the bunk beds. “I want this bed pulled into the middle of the floor
directly opposite the window facing the assembly grounds.” He pointed to the
right side of the cabin. “I want all those bunks moved over in front of the
exit over there. The ones on this side get moved down towards the other exit,
but don’t block it yet. We need to get out of here first.”
The slaves hurried to carry out Nathaniel’s orders, moving the one bunk into
the middle of the cabin directly opposite the window. The rest of the bunks
were quickly shoved against the exit at the far and of the cabin.
“Now, take one mattress from each of those bunks and bring them to the middle
of the room,” Nathaniel ordered. “Place them under each window and rip them
open – get that stuffing exposed. I want all the footlockers opened and pulled
over by the windows, too, and get those shades pulled down off the windows –
add them to the pile.”
“What’re you gonna do with us?” Caleb asked.
“You said you’d rather burn than kneel down to The Leader,” Nathaniel said
coldly. “Well, you’re going to get your wish.” He pointed down at Wolf, who
was already quietly sobbing. “The Leader was impressed with your bravery in
standing your ground – even though it was a stupid think to do. He decided you
shouldn’t burn alone. That worthless slave is going to keep you company.”
Caleb swallowed, trying to hide his fear, “I don’t need to have any company.
You can take him away with you.”
Wolf looked up at Nathaniel hopefully. His hopes were dashed with Nathaniel’s
chilling laugh, “You don’t get to make any decisions. The Leader had decided
your fate. The issue is closed.” Nathaniel turned his attention to the worker
slaves. “Come on, get all the bedding and towels piled up over here!”
The workers scrambled to carry out the new Enforcer’s orders. They knew he was
Gull’s new protégé and as such capable of causing them unspeakable suffering
if he chose to do so. They hastily stripped the beds of sheets, pillows,
pillowcases, blankets and towels, tossing them onto the growing piles by the
windows as Nathaniel jerked Caleb to his feet and dragged him over to the bunk
facing the window.
It didn’t take Nathaniel long to have a loop of rope around Caleb’s neck and
tie it to the rail at the foot of the bed. Next, he untied Caleb’s hands and
retied them to the bedposts on either side of the bed. Finding the worker
slaves searching for something to do after having carried out his last orders,
Nathaniel ordered them all to troop to the dining hall and scrounge up all the
flammable liquids – kerosene, cooking oil, lamp oil, anything that would burn.
As the slaves hurried out to do his bidding, Nathaniel ordered them to check
the grease trap in the kitchen. They could bring all the grease back as well.
He watched them scramble off before he dreamed up some new chores.
Once Nathaniel was sure the slaves were gone, he turned to Caleb, “Do you want
to live?”
“Huh?” The question threw Caleb for a loop. One minute this crimson-robed
Enforcer was giving orders that could only end in Caleb’s death and the next,
he was asking if Caleb wanted to live.
“Just listen, the both of you,” Nathaniel hissed. He started retying Caleb’s
wrists, but this time the ropes were loose. “I’m kinda playing this by ear –
and it’s risky as hell, but here’s the general idea. You two are going to have
to wait until the flames and smoke obscures the view through the windows.
Until then, you better scream like you’re really on fire and suffering. Once
you can’t see out the window, you can be pretty sure they can’t see inside.
Pull yourself loose from the ropes and get the hell out the back window – get
into the woods and run like hell.”
“Why are you doing this?” Caleb asked.
“Ask Wolf after the two of you get out of here,” Nathaniel said. “It’s enough
that you know I’m not interested in letting Gull get his hands on you.” He
looked Caleb right in the eye. “I swear, I’m not playing a game on you or
Wolf. I owe Wolf and you must have something special in you to stand up to The
Leader like you did.”
Nathaniel turned to Wolf and dragged him across the floor to Caleb’s feet.
“Listen Wolf,” he said urgently as he began retying Wolf’s ropes so he could
easily slip out of them. “You’ve gotta stick it out as long as you can in here
– I know it’s gonna be pretty bad for a while. But, you know what will happen
if Gull catches on and comes after you. You know what’ll happen to you two and
to me.”
Wolf gulped and nodded, “I know … I won’t screw up.”
Nathaniel smiled for the first time and patted Wolf’s head, “Remember, you two
run through the woods as fast and as far as you can. The grass and leaves are
pretty dry around here – I don’t know that the while place won’t catch fire.”
Nathaniel thought for a minute. “Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea if a
grass fire started and took the whole Brotherhood out all at once.”
Nathaniel pulled a switchblade knife from his boot and held it up in front of
Caleb, “This knife is going to be right behind your head under the mattress.
You might need it to cut through the screen.” Secreting the knife, Nathaniel
whispered into Caleb’s ear, “You have to do just what I said. If they think
you and Wolf are dead, they won’t come after you. If you move too soon – the
two of you and I are going to suffer like you can’t imagine. That stuff they
did to your friends – that’s nothing compared to what will happen to us.”
“Okay, I’ll do my best,” Caleb promised. There was something about the intense
stare in Nathaniel’s eyes that made Caleb trust him. Before he could say
anything else, the worker slaves returned lugging twenty gallons of kerosene
in four five gallon jerry cans and several cases of cooking oil in gallon
cans.
Nathaniel grabbed a jerry can of kerosene and made a show of soaking the
bedding by the windows. He ordered the slaves to soak the bunks blocking the
door at the end of the cabin and the floor around the bunks. Caleb noticed
that despite all the splashing of kerosene and oil, Nathaniel was careful not
to get any close to him and Wolf. When all the containers of flammable liquids
had been emptied, Nathaniel ordered the slaves to return to their places on
the assembly field.
“Remember what I said,” Nathaniel said in a low voice as he hurriedly made a
makeshift torch from oil soaked towels and a broom handle. “Wait for the
flames to obscure the window if you can and scream … scream like you life
depends on it – because it does.”
Hurrying to the far end of the cabin, Nathaniel lit the first torch and
touched it to the bunks by the door. It didn’t take long for the mattresses to
catch fire. Backing through the cabin, Nathaniel touched the torch to the oil
and kerosene soaked footlockers, bedding and mattresses by the windows. At the
other door, he looked back at Caleb and Wolf with a sad expression.
“Good luck,” he said and dropping the torch on the nearest bunk was gone.
By the time Nathaniel got back to the stage, the cabin was already well
ablaze. Flames were crawling over the edge of the windowsills when he took his
place beside Gull. Caleb was clearly visible through the window, as the flames
grew higher. He threw his head back and began screaming as he writhed and
tossed his head from side to side. It wasn’t long before Wolf’s high-pitched
wail joined Caleb’s screams. Nathaniel prayed the two of them were just doing
a wonderful job of acting and not really burning to death. He knew there were
lots of problems with his plan, but it had just popped into his brain when he
heard Caleb’s words to The Leader.
“Excellent job, Nathaniel,” Gull said, not taking his eyes from the burning
cabin. Glancing up at his supposed mentor, Nathaniel was surprised to find
Gull’s eyes were glazed and his mouth hung open as if he was in rapture. His
mouth twitched with each round of fresh screams. Nathaniel forced himself to
watch the flames engulf the cabin – black smoke was beginning to pour from the
windows and flames were already starting to burn through the roof. Soon it was
impossible to see inside the cabin – only the frenzied screams indicated that
Caleb and Wolf were still alive inside the inferno.
Neither Caleb nor Wolf found it hard to scream convincingly, as the flames
grew higher. Caleb felt a primal fear of the flames, as they grew higher and
hotter. He had to force himself not to free himself before the flames and
smoke obscured the window. As he rolled his head around, he kept checking the
window – as long as he could see Nathaniel and Gull, he knew he didn’t dare
act. Once the billowing smoke obscured the window, however, Caleb didn’t waste
any time pulling at the robes binding his hands to the bunk posts. He was
surprised at how easily he was able to pull loose. He pulled the rope looped
around his neck free and spun around to retrieve the knife Nathaniel had left
for them. Glancing around, Caleb saw that Wolf was already free of his ropes
and was crawling toward the rear window. Caleb decided it was a good idea to
follow him.
Reaching the window, Caleb pressed the button on the side of the knife to
spring the knife blade free and slashed the mesh screen. Standing aside, he
helped Wolf through the window before dropping to the ground himself. Flames
were already starting to spread across the dry grass behind the cabin. Neither
of them wasted any breath on speaking as they ran for the safety of the woods.
Caleb quickly took the lead and guided Wolf deeper into the woods. They were
about twenty yards into the woods when the first explosion punctuated the
morning. Caleb stopped suddenly, a look of horror on his face.
“Oh shit!” he sighed.
“What was that?” Wolf asked.
Caleb didn’t answer – instead he dashed back towards the cabin and halted at
the edge of the woods. Against his better judgement, Wolf followed Caleb back
and peered around the side of a tree trunk.
“What was that?” Wolf repeated.
“Propane bottles, I think,” Caleb whispered. “This is bad…” He was interrupted
by another popping explosion. What looked like a rocket to Wolf shot through
the roof of the cabin and flew high into the air, a plume of flames following
in its wake. “Every cabin has these small bottles of propane for making
instant coffee or soup or hot chocolate,” Caleb explained. “I didn’t even
think about them – they’re gonna set the whole camp afire.” As if to punctuate
his words, another propane bottle exploded through the side of the cabin and
streaked into the woods. “We’ve gotta get far away from here. Last Spring the
hardware store in town caught fire and the propane tanks and bottles went up
like rockets and burned the whole town down.” Leaping to his feet, Caleb
grabbed Wolf’s arm and dashed deep into the woods.
The sight of the first propane bottle soaring high into the air transfixed
Nathaniel. After the initial shock of the first explosion, everyone cheered at
the sight of the propane bottle flying up through the roof. The cheers turned
to gasps of amazement when the bottle plummeted to the ground and shattered,
spreading flames in a wide circle in front of one of the cabins. The flames
raced across the dry grass and started licking at the clapboard walls of the
cabin.
Alpha acted quickly, ordering a group of worker slaves to follow him. He put
them to work beating out the flames to keep them from spreading towards the
assembly ground. He was busy directing the slaves when a propane bottle
blasted through the side of the cabin, striking him and tearing most of his
head away before exploding in a ball of flames.
The popping sounds of small explosions filled the air as more and more propane
bottles lit off and rocketed in all directions. For a brief instant Nathaniel
was reminded of the sound made by a pop corn popper. Then, the saw a propane
bottle shooting across the ground straight towards the stage. Without
thinking, Nathaniel shoved Gull off the stage onto the ground just as the
propane bottle missile struck a tree root and shot into the air straight at
him. The bottle missed Gull entirely and struck Nathaniel square in the chest
with such force that it knocked him backwards almost eight feet. The propane
bottle bounced ricocheted off Nathaniel and struck Jamie killing him instantly
before falling to the ground and bursting into flame in the middle of Nolan
and five of his Seekers.
Seeing Jamie fall, Morgan dropped prone on the stage and rolled to the ground
as if he, too, had been struck. When no one took notice of him, he slid under
the stage and stayed motionless as pandemonium broke out on the assembly
field.
Sprawled on his back, Nathaniel tried to sit up and found his body refused to
obey his commands. The momentary burst of pain that had blossomed in his chest
was gone and a heaviness was filling his chest. Rolling his head to one side,
Nathaniel saw The Leader shouting orders for The Brotherhood to clear the
assembly area and keep the prisoners from escaping. Suddenly, Gull was
standing over him, wiping blood away from his lips. For the first time,
Nathaniel realized he was bleeding from the nose and mouth.
“You saved my life,” Gull gasped in amazement. “Just hold on and we’ll get you
clear from here. You’re gonna be okay.” Turning, Gull bellowed for several
worker slaves to haul their asses over to him and carry Nathaniel to safety.
Nathaniel tried to laugh at the irony, but only succeeded in coughing up more
blood and spraying Gull’s hands and robe in red droplets. Nathaniel braced
himself for intense pain when the slaves lifted him from the stage, but none
came. As they hurried towards the relative safety of the dry canal, Nathaniel
closed his eyes, gurgled, and slipped away.
Caleb refused to let Wolf stop for a rest as they crashed through the woods;
heedless of how much noise they made. Caleb figured The Brotherhood had their
hands full enough back at the camp and probably weren’t even bothering to
consider the possibility that their intended victims had escaped. Caleb knew
from Wolf’s emaciated form that he was near the end of his physical limits,
but couldn’t risk letting him stop for even a few moments. Caleb had seen
wildfires before and knew how fast they could race across open fields or
through treetops to trap unsuspecting campers or firefighters. He wouldn’t
feel safe until he had guided Wolf across the four-lane highway just a couple
of miles ahead. He figured the road might serve as a firebreak – at least he
hoped it would.
By the time they reached the highway, Caleb was dragging Wolf along. Once they
were across the road, he let Wolf sink to the ground exhausted. He turned and
examined the horizon – columns of black smoke rose high into the sky for as
far as he could see. Looking towards the woods, Caleb could see tongues of
flames licking at trees here and there along their escape path. He looked down
at Wolf who was sprawled limply on the ground, his mouth opening and closing
like a fish out of water as he gulped in lungfuls of air.
“We can rest here for a bit,” Caleb said, keeping one eye on the woods across
the road. “Then, we’ve got to move on. I know someplace we can get clothes and
food for both of us.” Caleb sank down to the ground and eyed Wolf. “Looks like
you were worked over pretty bad. Did The Leader do all that to you?”
“Not The Leader,” Wolf gasped. “He has Gull do all the torture.” Wolf lay back
still sucking in air. Finally, he stirred and propping himself up on one elbow
told Caleb everything he, Nathaniel and Daniel had suffered at Gull’s hands.
At first his story came out haltingly in dribs and drabs, then as he spoke, it
began to pour out of him in a torrent. The verbal dam had broken and Caleb
knew he wouldn’t be able to stop Wolf until everything had poured out of him.
He listened in horror as Wolf described in graphic detail all of the tortures
Gull had devised for them.
After Wolf had unburdened his soul, Caleb stood and announced it was time to
start moving. The acrid aroma of smoke was beginning to drift their way.
Glancing back at the woods, Caleb could see a wall of flames working through
the woods and coming closer to the highway. He wondered if anyone back in the
camp survived.
Wolf stared in amazement at the shelves of neatly stacked Boy Scout uniforms
in the large storeroom. There were hiking boots, uniform green shorts and
pants, T-shirts, socks, and swimming trunks. Caleb was working through the
stacks of clothes finding the right sizes for the two of them.
“Afraid we don’t have any underpants here,” Caleb said over his shoulder.
“But, we can make do with swim trunks for now.”
“What is this place?” Wolf asked.
“Our Scout Lodge,” Caleb explained. “Back before it happened, we used to have
meetings and cookouts here. Scouts used to be able to buy uniforms and
official BSA equipment here at cost and save some money. After it happened, we
went through all the stores and gathered all the Scouting equipment and
brought it here. We’ll get some camping gear and sleeping bags after we eat.”
“There’s food here?” Wolf asked, licking his lips.
“Want to know why Morgan wasn’t going to put up a fight when he thought The
Brotherhood was just raiding our Tribe for supplies?” Caleb asked. Before Wolf
could say anything, he smiled and waved his hands around. “This is where the
real stockpile of supplies is … well, here and a couple other places scattered
around the area.”
“Brilliant!” Wolf cried. “That way if your camp is raided, they can’t get
everything.”
“Exactly,” Caleb said. “Now, let’s get dressed and rustle up some food.
From the food supplies in the basement Caleb loaded up on cans of corned beef
hash, beans, and beef stew. He figured that even without any teeth, Wolf would
be able to eat those foods without much problem. Setting up a double burner
camp stove, Caleb attached a bottle of propane gas to the stove and began
cooking the food. Wolf turned a spare green bottle of propane over in his
hands in wonder.
“You mean it was bottles like this one that were blowing up back there and
shooting off like rockets?” Wolf asked incredulously.
“Yep,” Caleb said. “Sometimes they just explode and sometimes they shoot off
like rockets. Either way, it spreads fire like you wouldn’t believe.” He
stirred at the hash. “When the hardware store went up, you should have seen
the bigger tanks … y’know like the ones used by gas grills … well, you should
have seen them shoot up into the air.” He shook his head as he remembered the
large white tanks spinning end over end high in the air before crashing down
through the roofs of other buildings and spreading the fire across the whole
downtown area.
Wolf certainly lived up to his name after Caleb filled their plates – he
wolfed down his food, shoveling it into his mouth so fast that Caleb was
afraid Wolf would bring it all back up again. He urged Wolf to slow down and
take his time, promising he could get more food from the basement if Wolf was
still hungry. Blushing, Wolf forced himself to slow down. As a slave, The
Brotherhood hadn’t been generous with food servings. Wolf couldn’t remember
the last time his belly had been full and there had been the promise of more
food. As Wolf was working on his third can of beef stew, Caleb returned with
sleeping bags and two rucksacks of provisions.
“Well camp out somewhere out of sight for a couple days,” Caleb said.
“Why? Can’t we just stay here?”
“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” Caleb said. “Remember, I’m not the
only one who knows about this place. Maybe The Brotherhood survived and one of
my former Tribemates talked. We’re better off where we can see without being
seen.”
“Good point,” Wolf agreed nervously.
“I figure if anyone escapes from The Brotherhood, they’ll head for this
place,” Caleb explained. “If that happens, it should take a day or two … maybe
more before they reach here, depending on how bad the fire is and how far it
reached.”
For three nights Caleb watched the night sky glow red and orange from the
flames of the fire. As far as he could tell, the fire was burning away from
the Scout Lodge, but that didn’t really mean anything. A sudden shift in the
wind direction and the fire could easily race to the southeast side of Dutch
Creek and towards them. Wolf was slowly breaking from his habit of gulping his
food down as if someone was going to come along and take it away from him and
even seemed to be putting on some weight. On the morning of the fourth day,
Caleb had just about given up hope that anyone had escaped The Brotherhood, or
if they had, had managed to survive the fire. He was just starting to suggest
that he and Wolf pull up stakes and head out of the area when he caught sight
of a movement from the corner of his eye.
Turning in the direction of where he had seen the movement, Caleb watched
patiently. Nothing happened. He had almost concluded that a squirrel had
caused the motion when he saw it again. Someone was slowly and stealthily
through the bushes on the other side of the driveway leading up to the lodge.
Grabbing the field glasses he had dumped in his rucksack, Caleb focused in on
the area of movement. Again, nothing happened for a long time. Now that he
knew someone was out there for sure, Caleb waited patiently. Slowly, furtively
a head rose above the bushes, turned from side to side and then disappeared
again.
Caleb didn’t know who was out there – through the field glasses he could tell
that the person had camouflaged himself with a layer of mud and had wrapped
vines around his head to break up his outline. From their hiding place, Caleb
watched the figure slowly make its way closer and closer to the lodge. It took
over an hour for the figure to move twenty-five yards to the edge of the
bushes bordering the drive. Then, there was another half-hour of inactivity.
Either whoever was out there had backed off, or he was working up the nerve
for the dash across open ground to the safety of the lodge. At long last, the
figure made his break from the bushes and dashed across the driveway in a
curious limping lope. Whoever it was had covered himself from head to toe in
mud; not a single inch of flesh was left uncovered. Caleb had to admire the
camouflage It took a few moments, but eventually Caleb recognized the figure.
“Morgan!” he exclaimed. He felt like crying for joy at the knowledge that
Morgan had survived. He resisted the urge to race down to the lodge and greet
his friend. First, he knew he had to scan the area for a while to make sure no
one had followed Morgan. When no movements stirred the bushes for another
fifteen minutes, Caleb finally announced to Wolf that they could go down and
meet Morgan.
Moving quietly through the lodge, Caleb finally found Morgan in the canteen
area eating directly from a can of fruit cocktail. Three empty water bottles
lay scattered across the counter. Morgan had obviously gulped down the water
in a rush – spilling some of it down his chin. Pink skin showed through the
coating of mud where the water had washed it away. Caleb stepped into the
doorway smiling.
“Don’t you think it would be better if you jumped in the pool out back and
washed that shit off?” Caleb asked.
Morgan slowly lowered the can of fruit cocktail, his eyes growing round in
shock at seeing Caleb. “You – you burned up,” Morgan rasped, his voice a
ragged croak. “How…”
“I was just about to ask you how you escaped,” Caleb laughed.
“Nathaniel – the guy who took us into the cabin and set it on fire – he fixed
it up so we could escape using the fire as cover,” Caleb explained.
Stopping only long enough to get Morgan some clothes and a towel, Caleb led
Morgan out to the pool and insisted he jump in and get clean. As Morgan soaked
and washed the mud away, Caleb and Wolf described what had happened in the
cabin and how Nathaniel had come up with the plan on the fly. They explained
that once the flames and smoke blocked the window, they had pulled loose of
their ropes and made their escape out the back window. Caleb added that he had
figured if anyone managed to escape The Brotherhood, he figured they’d
eventually show up at the Scout Lodge.
“I can’t believe it,” Morgan said, shaking his head after dunking himself
under the water to rinse the soap from his head. “I can’t tell you how glad I
am to see you guys survived.”
“What about Nathaniel,” Wolf asked his voice full of concern. “They didn’t
find out what he did, did they?”
“No, no they didn’t find out what he did,” Morgan said. “I hate to tell you
this, but your friend died.
Even though Caleb barely knew Nathaniel, the news of his death hit him like a
blow. He felt sorry for the young man who had risked everything to save the
life of a stranger. Glancing over at Wolf, Caleb saw that the former slave had
tears streaming down his cheeks. “What happened?” Caleb asked.
“When the propane bottles started going off, things got kind of confused,”
Morgan said. “One of them was shooting across the ground right towards the
stage where he and Gull was standing.” Morgan paused. “I guess he saw his
chance … anyway, he pushed Gull off the stage right in front of the bottle…”
“So Gull is dead?” Wolf asked hopefully.
“No,” Morgan said. “The propane bottle hit something and shot into the air …
it missed Gull completely and hit your friend in the chest. It bounced off and
killed Jamie before exploding in flames in the middle of a group of guys in
green robes.”
“Jamie,” Caleb asked slowly, his voice catching. “Did he suffer.”
“No, it hit him in the head and I don’t think he even felt a thing,” Morgan
said. He looked over at Wolf, “If it matters, your friend didn’t suffer
either. I don’t think he was in any pain at all … leastways, he didn’t cry out
or writhe around. He seemed real peaceful … the funny thing is that Gull got
the idea that Nathaniel had tried to save him. He insisted some of the slaves
carry Nathaniel off with them for a funeral with honors.”
Wolf stopped crying and smiled at the thought, “I think Nathaniel appreciate
the irony in that … kind of like one last way of screwing Gull.”
“What about The Leader?” Caleb asked.
“He survived,” Morgan said sourly. “You should have seen him … he was so
fucking calm. He jumped off the stage and started shouting orders to evacuate
the field and to keep all the prisoners together. He didn’t even seem scared.”
Morgan described how he had stayed low and was finally able to work his way
out from under the stage and escape the camp. By the time he left the camp, he
said, the whole place was blazing and propane bottles were still popping off.
He had followed the long road leading to the camp just barely keeping ahead of
the fire. The day after he escaped the camp, he had wallowed in the mud near a
little creek to cover his white skin and camouflage himself in case The Leader
decided to search for him.
“I had to work my way all the way around the other side of town,” Morgan said
finally leaving the water and toweling off. “I figure the fire should burn
itself out in a day or so unless the wind changes. It was headed towards
downtown last time I checked. That’ll work as a firebreak – everything’s
already burned out in that direction.”
Morgan finished dressing and looked around, “So what’s the plan?”
“I figure get us all rested up,” Caleb said. “And then, put as much distance
between us and here as possible.”
“You have a destination in mind?” Morgan asked.
“Not really,” Caleb admitted. “Just far away from here.”
“Uh huh,” Morgan grunted. “Ever thought about going to The City?”
Caleb and Wolf looked at each other and shrugged, “Sounds as good a place as
any, I guess,” Caleb said. “Why there?”
“Remember those jugglers and minstrels who came through the camp a couple
weeks ago?” Morgan asked. Caleb nodded – it would be hard to forget the
entertainment they had provided. “Well, they were talking about a Tribe called
The Shiprats … they organized a free trade market, make their own electricity
and lots of other things. From what they said, this Tribe is the kind of
people we’d get along with.”
“Sounds good to me,” Wolf said.
“Me, too,” Caleb agreed. “Just one thing, how do we find them?”
Morgan grinned, “That should be easy … all we have to do is look for the Queen
Mary, that’s where they live.”
“Well that shouldn’t be too hard,” Caleb said. “We just go until we see the
water and then look for an ocean liner. A piece of cake.”
To be continued…
* * * |
From Boy to Hermaphrodite - Part 3 | TG, NULLIFICATION, TG? Hard to classify | Continuing "From boy to hermaphrodite" and "From boy to hermaphrodtie 2". Read it first. This story describes theorchiectomy of an already penectomized eunuch | ` when charles visited us the first time, he said: please, help me, I am so
horny, I am unable to collect my thoughts. And really, his whole body
trembled. We undressed him immediately and - indeed - he was not a man, but a
marvellous eunuch. his muscular body was completely shaved and on his belly
there was not the slightest mark of a cock, not even a scar, whre it might
have been, not even e pee-hole. his belly ended immediately in his scrotum.
But his scrotum was really bizarre. It dangled down for at least 15 cm. His
testicles were big as eggs, but it has not been their weight causing this
elongation. Additional to his testicles his sack was filled with several heavy
glass marbles, clicking with each movement. Obviously it was impossible for
him to go in public unobstrusively. He lifted his big sack with its heavy
content and directly behind it we remarked his little peehole, only some
centimeters before his anus. Remarking our curiosity he got one of his
lecherous paroxisms. He groaned and closed his eyes, his body twitched and he
cried helplessly. Obviously cutting only the penis gives the eunuch an endless
toruture: His testicles and their testosterone preserve his lust but without
any erectile tissue, he is unable to quench the lust. In his unfulfilled lust
charles started to beat himself. We had fear, that he would hurt himselft and
so wie curcified him. His arms and legs widespread buckled at the cross, his
waist tied firmly by the leather straps, we lifted his heavy scrotum, the up-
and down-moving lesticles let the marbles click. Carefully we creamed the
surrounding of his peehole with rheumatic medicine and insertied a thin tube
only some centimeters we reached his prostate. Its irritation was sufficient
that the prostate immediately liberated itself form its content. Zhe semen ran
down in long jets creating an extendend white spot at the foot of the cross.
Charles relaxed, hanging exhausted in the buckles of the cross. We descented
him from the corss and in the afternoon we sewed him a scrotum suspensorium
from elastic fabric, fixed with straps on a girdle around his waist. We asked
him to sty permanently with us and so we witnessed that his lecherey returned
all four or five hours and without our help he needed often more than an hour
writhing in lust before the semen jetted in longlasting flow out of his little
peehole. At some days he produced half a pint of semen, which - filled up with
red wine - was our common evening drink. `
One a day he went to his surgeon with the wish to fill up his scrotum with
further marbles up to the weight of a pound. The surgeon agreed and we begged
him - considering charles' difficulties with his testosterone - to remove his
testicles at this occasion. The weight of his new scrotum now big as a ball
forced him to wear his scrotum suspensorium permantently. Some days later he
examined carefully his sack, unable to feel the testicles between all the
marbles. When also no further ejaculation and no further lecherous paroxisms
occured, he realized, that he was emasculated, orchiectomized and now a
complete eunuch - and he was happy. Naturally he was sad, that his former
lascivity had gone, but I consoled him by the promise that he would get my
semi-dandrogene gestagene. giving als me a controllable uninterrupted state of
arousal. And naturally it worked at him. After some months he had reserved his
former sexual pleasure, but with some side effects: The female hormone had let
grown his nipples to two centimeters and the thick swollen prominent aureole
gave his male body an arousing bizarre look.
To be continued. If interested, please write me (email:
[email protected]).
* * * |
College Frat boy | TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION | Frat boy looses balls | As the story was being relayed by the "live" news crew I drifted back to the
night before.
I had been looking for a candidate for months, it was a hot late August
evening and I couldn't sleep. Decided to go for a late night drive downtown
and then swing up past the lake then back downtown. The college kids had just
returned last weekend for the start of the fall semester and generally this
imporved the "sights" downtown by the bars and around campus by the Frat
houses. The "stud" boys would surely be out shirts-off trying to get laid.
Lucky me, lots of guys in shorts sandals and no shirts.
Cruised around for a while and then my prize appeared, near the bars an hour
after closing. A beautiful boy stud. Looking to be about 20, 6ft, 175 with
dark hair and a smooth well muscled body. He was staggering along so I pulled
over to the side of the road with the windows down. He took note, and looked
over at me. I asked if he wanted a ride and he got into the car. He was fairly
well gone but managed to say his name was Josh and we was a student. He also
said he had a fight with his girlfriend and went out to get drunk. He mumbled
where he was heading and I pulled away from the curb.
He had his shirt in his hand, at the first stop sign I took it from him and it
indicated he was on the wrestling team, I ask and he confirmed he was. He was
nearly passed out and I had to shake him a bit to get a response.
Driving along a whild he woke up somewhat and asked me to pull over he had to
pee and I suspect vomit. I pulled off into a deadend woodsy area by a park.
The boy was having trouble getting out of the car, so I helped him get out and
then helped him get to the bushes.
I watched and he geave a nice show, dropping his shorts to the ground to pee.
After which he stumbled to the ground and passed out.
This was my opportunity. I went over and took the draw string out of his
shorts and got his hands behind his back and tied them. Then I rolled him over
so he was mostly on his back and I could access his balls. He was softly
snoring at this point. Then I took a lace out of his shoe, the shoe lace was
then looped around his magnificent balls and tightened.
I slowly tightened more and more and more. His cock got rock hard and I
tighted the shoe lace more. The balls turned dark, then darker and darker.
They were dying. I worked his shorts back up around his waist and left.
The reported said, "Our top story ________ College wrestling star Josh ______
was found in the park this morning by a passer-by with his hands tied behind
his back. An anonymous source has confirmed that he was taken to the hospital
about 15 minutes after being found. Reports indicate that once police arrived
and freed his hands he immediately pulled his shorts down and witnesses say
you could see some blood and blackness between his legs" the reported
concluded with stating "It is unconfirmed but we believe Josh ______ has been
taken into emergency surgery, reportedly to remove his testicles, more details
as the story develops"
* * * |
Innocence forever | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES, MINOR, female ovaries clitoris | A mother has a wonderful relationship with her two young children until they start to discover their sexuality when it starts to go wrong. She solves the problem by having her them neutered so they can return to being innocent and happy children. | ` British author I'm afraid so `
willy = cock
fanny = pussy
wank = masturbate etc
knickers = panties
Hope this doesn't detract from the story :)
Her husband had been a bastard and that was the end of it. He left the house
one day just after her 28th birthday and she never saw him again. Rumour had
it that he had run off to Spain with a girl from work but she never did track
him down.
Sarah was left with a boy of 5 and a girl of 4 to bring up on her own. Both
her and the kids found it hard at first. Since both of them were so upset at
missing their Daddy, she let them sleep in her bed and all of them got a
better sleep that way.
Things quietened down after that for a while. Both kids did well at school and
Sarah rejoiced in their innocence and enthusiasm. They still kept the habit of
sleeping in her bed although they did occasionally use their own if some of
their friends came round.
Sarah very much enjoyed cuddling up to her children and did nothing to
discourage them from sleeping in her bed. After her experience with her
husband, she did not want to have another boyfriend and although she would
dearly loved to have sex, she refrained from masturbating since she did not
want her children to copy her. Just occasionally if she was feeling horny and
the children were sleeping, Sarah would slip her hand down the front of Neil's
pyjamas and feel his small, soft impotent penis or slip her hand down Katie's
knickers and touch her soft undeveloped labia as if to reassure herself that
they were still very much her little children, innocents who knew nothing
about sexuality and the ways of adults.
Of course innocence does not last forever.
One evening shortly after Neil's 10th birthday, she noticed him behaving
rather suspiciously as he raced upstairs to his bedroom after tea, taking his
schoolbag with him. Neil had been talking with one of his school friends who
had smuggled a pornographic magazine into school for him and he had taken it
upstairs to have a good look. His friend Tony had told him all about willies
and masturbating (wanking he called it) and had showed him how to do it when
they went to the school toilets.
Neil lay down on his bed, pulled his pants and underpants down and viewed
every page in the magazine with interest as he idly played with his by now
very erect and aroused penis. Katie went up to find him and when she opened
his door to ask him a question, clamped her hand over he mouth with shock and
amazement at the sight of her brother playing with himself. Neil motioned for
her to close the door and she came closer to have a look at the magazine and
to watch what he was doing.
"Can I have a look too?"
"Only if you take your knickers off and lie next to me so I can see your slit
as well."
Katie didn't hesitate. She pulled her knickers down, threw them on the floor
and lay down beside Neil to look at the magazine. Now Katie did already know
how to masturbate as she had learned it from a friend on a sleep over but had
never dared to do it at home as she didn't want to get caught by her mother.
This, however, was far more exciting and too good an opportunity to miss!
"Can I touch your willie if you can touch my slit?"
Neil showed her how to curl her fingers around his foreskin and pump the skin
backwards and forwards whilst she got him to lick his finger and rub the
little bump at the top of her slit. For a few minutes there was silence as
they enjoyed the amazing new pleasure of masturbating each other. Their
confidence grew and Neil discarded the magazine as they furiously masturbated
each other towards their first orgasms.
Sarah sensed something was going on and put down her newpaper and listened.
Just at that moment, Katie felt the most amazing floaty and melting feeling
and let out a little moan. Sarah charged upstairs and flung open Neil's door
just as both children hit climax.
It should have been a beautiful bit of discovery and something to talk about
to the children but Sarah just felt resentment and anger that their childhood
was ebbing away and that puberty was just around the corner - so she shouted
at them.
The next day whilst the children were in school and she was on a lunch break,
Sarah went round to see her best friend Chrissie Thompson (who was a doctor)
and broke down in tears as she explained what she had found them doing the
previous night. Chrissie tried to reassure her.
"Well they are heading towards puberty you know and this isn't exactly
uncommon!".
"I know but I just wish that they could stay as my children and this silly
puberty stuff didn't have to happen."
Chrissie sat quietly and thought of what to say next. What Sarah didn't know
is that she had a little sideline in somewhat unorthodox medicine.
Some parents had been coming in secret to her surgery for ages to have their
daughters circumcised to stop them masturbating. The law was very strict on
female circumcision but Chrissie had invented a technique where the external
clitoris was left unchanged but botox was injected into both halves of the
internal clitoris to destroy it completely. This technique left no visible
changes whatsoever but destroyed all sensitivity in the clitoris so that
masturbation was impossible.
She had a technique for unruly boys from the asian community as well. A small
incision was made underneath the boys scrotum and in the tunica surrounding
each testicle and the two testicles were squeezed out of the pouch. At this
point the cords were tied and the testicles were cut off. Chrissie then
inserted two suitable neuticles she had purchased from a local vet (these were
tiny plastic balloons full of saline) and closed the external cut with
superglue. The boy was a bit sore for a few days but didn't even realise what
had been done. After a couple of weeks he stopped thinking about sex and girls
and after a month his penis was unable to get stiff and he couldn't masturbate
anymore.
She even had a technique for unruly girls although she had only used this once
before. She used an ultrasound scanner to locate each of the girls ovaries and
then used a syringe with a very long needle to inject Neutersol (that she had
purchased from the same vet) into the centre of each of the girl's ovaries
guided by the scanner. She brought the girl back to be scanned after a couple
of weeks by which time both ovaries had shrivelled up and disappeared and the
girl had stopped thinking about boys and sex.
She decided to talk about to Sarah.
"There is something I could do with Neil and Katie to prevent puberty and stop
them thinking about sex."
"Chrissie, you're joking with me, right?"
"You have to promise that you won't mention this to anyone else."
"You have my word."
"What I suggest is that we neuter your children."
Sarah looked incredulous and shocked.
"You're joking aren't you - you're not joking? You are suggesting that I hurt
my own children?"
"Don't you want things to stay as they are?"
The strange thing was, the more that Sarah started thinking about it, the more
it seemed to make sense. She nodded slowly and looked back at Chrissie.
"OK, I'm thinking about it. What would you do?"
"What I suggest is removing Neil's testicles and I can put false ones back in
if you like. I can also remove Katie's ovaries and stop her clitoris from
working. This will stop both of them from entering puberty."
The more Chrissie talked about it, the more excited and aroused Sarah became.
Chrissie could not help but notice.
"You can masturbate while you watch the operation if you like. Would you like
to cut off Neil's testicles yourself?"
Sarah nodded and groaned. By this time she had got a hand down her knickers
and was masturbating furiously. Chrissie came over and kissed her and put her
tongue in Sarah's mouth. As they kissed, Chrissie pulled Sarah's knickers down
and slipped a finger between her pussy lips to find her aroused clitoris.
"Just think", whispered Chrissie, "Katie will never be able to play with her
clitty like you can as I'll stop it working and it won't be long before Neil
can't have a stiffie anymore."
Sarah squealed as her climax hit and she leaned on her friend for support.
Chrissie took out a bottle of white wine and poured out two glasses.
"Here's to happy neutered children!", said Sarah smiling.
"I'll drink to that", said Chrissie.
The next day was a Saturday and Sarah brought both children around to Sarah's
house which was just around the corner from the surgery. Both children sat
down in front of a Disney film and Chrissie brought them large glasses of
lemonade which were spiked with a powerful sleeping drug. After a few minutes
they had started to feel drowsy and after half and hour they were completely
asleep.
They were joined by Chrissie's anaesthetist, Simon, who helped to carry both
unconscious children around to the surgery where Chrissie had a small
operating theatre for minor operations. They stripped off both children and
dressed them in gowns ready for the procedure.
Sarah had come in a dress with no knickers on and Chrissie had provided her
with a vibrator to wear through the procedure.
She did wear a surgical mask and apron so that she could stay in the operating
theatre.
Simon laid Neil out on the operating table with his legs wide apart and
Chrissie washed him well between his legs and taped his penis out of the way.
She put an elastic band tightly around his scrotum to stop his balls
retracting and lifted this scrotum up to make the cut with her scalpel.
Simon set up the anaesthetic and held the mask over his mouth.
Chrissie made a tiny cut aless than 1/4 inch long and a cut in the white
tunica pouch underneath. With a quick squeeze, Neil's small blue-white left
testicle popped out of the cut. She made incision in the other tunica and
squeezed the other testicle out. Using three surgical clamps on each testicle,
she clamped the cord securely. Chrissie gestured to Sarah who washed her hands
in surgical soap and came over to the operating table.
"There you are, Sarah. You can cut his balls off now."
Chrissie handed the surgical scissors to Sarah and held up Neil's testicle
cord between two clamps for her to cut.
Snip! There went his left testicle.
Chrissie put the testicle in a kidney dish and held up the second cord.
Snip! Neil was now a eunuch.
Sarah handed the scissors back and frigged herself to orgasm as Chrissie put
the other testicle in the kidney dish and tied off Neil's cords with sutures.
Chrissie took out the neuticles from another dish and squeezed each one into
the tunical where the testicle had been then sutured up each tunica. Then she
glued the cut in the scrotum shut with surgical glue. Finally she injected
some local anaesthetic which would disguise the pain when he woke up.
Neil's penis and scrotum looked unchanged. The difference was his balls had
gone and he now had two useless little balloons full of saline instead of his
real nuts.
Chrissie brought the kidney dish over for Sarah to look at. Sarah picked up
Neil's testicles and looked at them. Before Chrissie could say anything, Sarah
dropped them on the floor and stamped on them.
"OK lets spay my daughter now", she said.
Simon laid Neil out in the recovery room and brought Katie over to the
operating table and washed her thoroughly between her legs and on her abdomen.
Simon set up the ultrasound machine at the side and placed the anaesthetic
mask over her face.
Chrissie put gel on the ultrasound pads and moved them around until she found
Katie's left ovary. Keeping the ovary in view, Chrissie pushed the long needle
into Katie's tummy until the end entered her ovary. Carefully, Chrissie
injected the Neutersol to turn her ovary to mush. Pulling out the needle and
attaching the next Neutersol pack, she located Katie's right ovary and did the
same.
Katie was now also castrated. Chrissie turned to Sarah.
"I don't know of an official term for castrated girls but I tend to refer to
them as spaylings. One of the Dad's who had his younger teenage daughter done
said that boys have balls so he called her ovaries 'her plums'. Having her
spayed was 'having her plums picked'."
Sarah smiled.
"Having her plums picked? I like that!"
But Chrissie hadn't finished yet.
"Neil's penis will stop working a couple of weeks after he is castrated and he
should not be able to masturbate much after that but spaying Katie will not
stop her masturbating completely. Do you want me to numb your daughters
clitoris to stop her wanking?"
Sarah nodded.
Chrissie had already prepared two injections of botox which would permanently
stop Katie's clitoris from being sensitive or becoming erect. Chrissie turned
to Sarah.
"I usually find it easier to locate the internal clitoris if the girl is
aroused. Could you masturbate your daughter for me?"
Sarah took some surgical gel and started to masturbate Katie's clitoris. After
a few minutes, her clit was erect and she was starting to lubricate. Chrissie
felt around the child's pussy and located the left crua and injected the
botox. Chrissie injected the right crua as well and the job was done.
Sarah watched with interest.
"How long does it take for her clitty to stop working?"
"It varies but generally by the time her ovaries have shrivelled up and
disappeared then she should be completely unable to masturbate. I reckon about
2-3 weeks. If you bring her back in around then I'll scan her tummy and make
sure that her ovaries have disappeared."
As with Neil, Chrissie injected local anaesthetic in a few places to disguise
and pain and then they took both children back to the house and dressed them.
The children woke up in front of the TV and clamoured for food. They both felt
strangely tired and Neil said his willy hurt but little more was said.
The next day, Sarah apologised to Neil and Katie for shouting at them and let
Neil have his sex magazine back. She even went upstairs with them, pulled
Neil's pants down and pulled Katie's knickers down and let them play with each
other and she went downstairs to leave them in peace with a little knowing
smile on her face.
At first everything was just as it had always been. Both children sneaked off
regularly to play at 'Doctors' and Neil played with his penis as he looked at
the sex magazine while Katie masturbated her clitoris to orgasm but as the
week progressed things started to change.
As the fortnight wore on, Neil found it harder and harder to get his penis to
go stiff. Sarah's even pretended to help by masturbating her son a little but
eventually no matter what he did he was unable to get an erection. By this
stage he had started to lose interest in the sex magazine anyway (as his
hormones ran down) and had gone back to playing with his cars and trains all
the time.
Katie was also finding it increasingly difficult to masturbate as her clitty
became poisoned by the botox and her ovaries stopped working. One day Sarah
watched Katie sneak upstairs and she followed quietly and peered around the
edge of the door into Sarah's bedroom. Katie took her knickers off and lay
down on her bed with her legs open. Sarah put her hand down her own knickers
and massaged her own clitoris to orgasm as she watched her daughter attempt to
masturbate. Katie licked her finger and started to furiously massage her
clitoris. No matter what she did, the nice feelings that she had felt before
did not happen. After a few minutes of fruitless rubbing she curled up and
burst into tears.
"Mummy, my fanny isn't working properly. I can't play with my little bump
anymore."
"We'd better take you and Neil to see Dr Thompson then and she can have a look
at you."
Sarah took them both on a quick car ride around to Chrissie's surgury and as
things were quiet she had a good chance to make sure that both children had
been neutered successfully.
Chrissie pulled Neil's shorts and underpants down and inspected his penis and
the tiny scar under his scrotum (which was by now almost invisible). Since he
wasn't getting erections anymore, his penis had started to shrink and was half
the size it used to be. Chrissie smiled and nodded to Sarah who pulled his
pants up again.
It was Katie's turn next. Sarah took out the ultrasound machine and checked
her tummy and showed Sarah that Katie's ovaries had now vanished completely.
Sarah took off her daughters knickers and Chrissie inspected her genitals and
showed Sarah that Katie's clitoris had now shrunk so much that it had almost
vanished and when Chrissie rubbed it, Katie didn't seem to notice.
Sarah was delighted with the results although she didn't say anything in front
of the children.
Katie pulled her knickers up again and Chrissie turn to both children to tell
them the bad news - which was a suitable lie that she told all the children
who had gone through this procedure.
"I'm afraid that you've both had a little infection that has affected your
girl and boy bits - quite rare I guess but not unheard of. The infection has
gone now but I'm afraid that your willy and fanny have been damaged and they
won't give you nice feelings anymore."
Neil nodded. "I've given up playing with my willy now", he said, "its a bit
babyish and Mummy doesn't like it anyway."
Katie pouted but nodded as well.
Chrissie took Sarah in the next room for a moment.
"Well it worked fine", she said, "and they won't be going through puberty
either so hopefully you should have less problems with teenage tantrums."
Sarah looked thoughtful.
"Other people are bound to find out eventually", she said, "what happens
then."
"I'll put something suitable in their medical records - cancer will do nicely
I think and we'd better not give them HRT in case it comes back."
Sarah nodded.
"One other question. I regret asking you to put false testicles in his scrotum
as I'd like to see it flat and empty. Can you take them out again?"
Chrissie smiled.
"All they have is saline in them. If you squeeze them firmly then the plastic
envelopes will pop, his false balls will go flat and his scrotum will be empty
anyway."
Sarah took her children home and everything returned back to the homely bliss
that it was before the children had started to find out about sex.
That night both children snuggled up to Sarah in bed and as it was hot they
had left their pyjamas off. When they had gone to sleep, Sarah felt Neil's
permanently limp penis and Katie's non-functional vulva. Very carefully she
pulled back the covers and looked at Neil's scrotum with his false testicles
in it. Curling her fingers around his scrotum she squeezed his false balls
firmly and felt them burst between her fingers. Pulling the covers back over
him she went to bed playing with his now very limp and empty scrotum and
massaging her own functional and erect clitoris.
Perhaps innocence can last forever she thought to herself as she fell into a
blissful sleep.
* * * |
Party Time! | GAY, NULLIFICATION | Come party with me for a once in a lifetime experience! | My name is Merlin, and I own a custom-built guillotine.
Not your common, ordinary model, of course. This is a one-of-a-kind model that
I designed for my own special purposes. Your classic model consists of a
blade, a manual lifting rope, a latching mechanism, and a manual release rope.
You've all seen the pictures - they were used extensively during the French
Revolution to rid the country of the nobles and the royalty. As they were
intended to be used as an execution device, there were no concerns for either
hygiene or safety.
Mine, on the other hand, has a totally non-lethal purpose, and was designed
accordingly. The 25 pound blade is not only lighter than the common blade, but
is made from surgical steel - and is kept honed to a razor-sharpness for the
cleanest, and least painful cut possible. It is also kept as clinically
sterile as possible, and is re-sterilized between each and every use. To
compensate for the lighter weight of the blade, springs are used to accelerate
the blade to maximum speed for the cut. The lifting and release mechanisms are
motorized, electronically controlled, and sealed to avoid accidental
contamination. The restraining bars are padded, equipped with additional
features we'll examine later, and contain a unique locking mechanism. Once the
top bar has been lowered into position, it cannot be lifted until the blade
has dropped, which unlocks the restraining bar for the next use.
So, why would I want or need such a unique machine?
Easy - I host parties....
gay sex parties....
and whether you leave the party as a man or nullo will either be a matter of
conscious decision - or just plain luck.
I see I've left out one very important feature of my machine - the blade
guard. There are 3 distinct settings - on, off, and russian roullette. The
party-goer makes a conscious decision when he arrives as to which of the 3
settings will be used during his 'play' time, and pays me accordingly (while
signing the appropriate contract, of course).
The contracts are important - and have survived challenges all the way up to
the Supreme Court.
For guys wanting to experience the 'thrill' of losing their manhood, but
aren't ready to totally commit to nullification, I charge $100.00 and their
contract simply absolves me from any accidental injury to their penis or
scrotum. Even with the blade guard on, a 25-pound spring-accelerated blade
will at the very least leave bruising and will potentially cause the man to
become a eunuch due to accidentally crushing the cords. On principle, I limit
each party to no more than 2 of these.
For guys that are committed to becoming nullo, I charge $1,000.00 and their
contract gives me the right to not only remove their package, but also to keep
the removed parts and use them in any way I choose.
Which leads me back to those additional features that I mentioned earlier.
Everyone knows that cutting an erect penis will have 2 extremely annoying
side-effects. 1) the blood loss from the penis will cause the erection to
deflate almost immediately and 2) the blood loss from the body side, unless
sealed off almost immediately, can lead to the person bleeding to death. Plus,
quantities of blood on and around the machine is not only messy and un-
hygenic, but will really spoil the party atmosphere. To eliminate this
problem, two banding attachments (similar to an elastrator) are triggered
prior to the blade release to seal off any blood loss from either the body or
the penis once the blade has dropped. This also maintains the erect state of
the penis should I choose to preserve it.
The final type of party-goer is the 'russian roullette' player. These guys are
literally betting their manhood that they will survive the party intact - and
actually have a 50-50 chance of doing so. They are charged $500.00, and their
contract is a composite of the other two contracts. 'Winners' (those remaining
intact) get $400.00 back at the end of the night. 'Losers' (those nullified)
leave their manhood with me.
Since it IS my machine, and I'm the party host, I get to make the rules as to
who will be allowed to attend.
First, the guy has to be of legal age - and you can bet your life that I
check, double-check, and re-check (with full documentation) to insure that he
IS of legal age. An under-age man can NOT sign the contract (and have it be
legal), and I won't allow anyone else to sign the contract for him or in his
behalf.
Second, he has to be at least reasonably good-looking. I mean, it's primarily
a sex party - and if he's fat or ugly, no one is going to have a good time
having sex with him.
Finally, he has to be at least 7" long. I don't care if he's cut or not, but
if he doesn't pass the ruler test, he won't be at the party.
All pubic hair will be removed either prior to the party or as a preliminary
function at the party. Sorry guys, but hair in a wound can cause infection,
and I've got a reputation to maintain!
Every participant will shoot their load twice, once by fucking, and once by
being sucked.
Every participant will be fucked once, and will suck once.
So, how does a party work?
A typical party consists of 6 guys. As each one arrives, he draws his
position, pays his fee, and signs his contract. If his pubic hair has not yet
been removed, he goes in to the medical area for removal, otherwise he strips
down and proceeds to the play area. I log his type of play (thrill, removal,
or roulette) and his position into the computer that controls the machine.
None of the other party-goers will know which type of play he has selected.
Once all 6 guys are in the play area, the party begins. Food and beverages are
supplied, along with various pornographic movies and magazines to get everyone
in the mood.
Sex occurs in a round-robin fashion:
#1 fucks me.
#2 fucks #1 while I suck #1.
#3 fucks #2 while #1 sucks #2.
#4 fucks #3 while #2 sucks #3.
#5 fucks #4 while #3 sucks #4.
#6 fucks #5 while #4 sucks #5.
I fuck #6 while #5 sucks #6.
#6 sucks me.
Why so structured? Because, with the exception of me, the person being fucked
and sucked is also locked into the guillotine. A sensor connected to the
computer registers when both have shot their loads and initiates the
triggering sequence. The 2 elastrator bands snap into place, and the blade
drops. Whether the blade guard is in place is determined by the initial
programmed entry as to the type of play involved.
The 'thrill' player will always have the guard in place, but will feel the
effects of the guarded blade hitting his manhood. The 'removal' player will
have his manhood severed, and the sucking person will find himself with the
unattached manhood in his mouth and hands. The 'roullette' player will find
out his fate. In his case, a clock starts ticking just as soon as the
restraint bar is locked into place and continues to tick until the triggering
sequence is initiated. If the time stamp is even, he wins and keeps his
manhood. If the time stamp is odd, he loses and I add another manhood to my
collection.
Of course, once the blade has dropped there is a 'free' period. The guy in the
machine will need a visit to the medical area no matter what the result of the
blade drop was.
An intact man will still need the bands removed and his equipment checked for
obvious damage, while the new nullo will require additional medical treatment.
This gives the guy doing the fucking a chance to 're-charge' his batteries
before his turn in the machine, as he has to wait for his 'sucker' to return
from the medical area.
Depending on the number of attendees, a party can last from several hours to
an entire weekend, and can end with as few as zero nullos (rare, but it has
happened) to all attendees (except me) nullified.
I then have the happy task of determining the ultimate 'fate' of each new
trophy. Most become part of a banquet or as 'nibbles' for the next party, but
special sets are preserved and become part of my permanent collection.
Maybe some day I'll give you a tour of my trophy room, but until then....
there's a party scheduled for next weekend. Want to come party?
* * * |
The Anguished E, Chapter Twenty Four | STRAIGHT, PENECTOMY, TESTICLES, MINOR | Chris Bellows writes professionally for Pink Flamingo Publications (http://www.pinkflamingo.com). This is the twenty-fourth chapter of a book length female dominant/male submissive story involving control of the male genitals utilizing a variety of methods.Please feel free to send comments to [email protected], I ask for patience as I endeavor to produce a story of interest as quickly as I possible but with minimal typos and grammatical errors. The entire book will be posted. | ` The Anguished E `
Copyright 2002
by Chris Bellows
Part Two
Brandy’s Story
Chapter Twenty Four
Pat sodomized Tony well into the night while I benefitted from a tongue with
unsurpassed strength, stamina and skill. Pat’s harness not only held in place
the hideously large dildo penetrating Tony’s stretched sphincter, but mounted
beneath were clever rubber objects designed to ensure that Pat enjoyed every
firm thrust of her hips.
Yes, each lunge not only produced a luscious grimace of pain from Tony but
also caused a clever spindle to caress Pat’s clitoris and a larger custom
designed phallus to friction her vagina. So she had great incentive to provide
Tony with a thorough reaming, completely ignoring his pleas as his end of the
dildo pressured his prostate and resulted in unwanted tumescence. And of
course being in the presence of two beautiful unclothed women also served to
spur arousal, not to mention that his face was deeply buried between my
thighs.
I also enjoyed watching my athletic companion work her muscles to produce such
delightful results, pain for Tony, pleasure for herself and marvelous tongue
work for me.
After two dozen thrusts, Tony’s anguish overwhelmed him. He could not
concentrate on serving my sex while his turgid manhood pressed against the
thin infibulating wire. So it was not pity that caused me to suggest Pat stop
for the ice, it was the need to continue the satisfaction of my own lust.
“I guess it’s time, Pat. He’s blubbering more than licking.”
Pat pulled back and I was always amazed to watch the huge length of rubber
slowly withdraw. The special bump designed to pressure Tony’s prostate finally
exited as his anus wrapped about the shaft as if kissing it.
The wine bucket was not for the Chardonnay. It was for Tony and Pat retrieved
it while Tony was again able to concentrate and resume licking. His lips
surrounded my clitoral hood and he lurched as Pat placed the cold bucket
between his thighs then callously plunked his freed testicles into the icy
depths.
“His penis is dripping already,” Pat noted, taking the time to place a towel
on the floor and drape the leaking penis tip over the edge of the bucket.
Tony’s organs numbed. Unfortunately the cold would serve to alleviate the
exquisite pain he felt while Pat took her pleasure from him and his tongue
serviced me. But the procedure was necessary. I had decided to terminate the
prostate massage which Annika afforded Tony. It was too pleasurable. So Pat
and I milked him in the most ignominious manner, forcing the buildup of semen
from his system by sodomizing him once or twice per month. Though in icing him
it stemmed the pain, there was also no pleasure. His only joy would be the
privilege of servicing me and knowing that his backside was also a source of
pleasure for Pat.
Pat introduced the dildo again and plunged it deeply into Tony’s rectum. She
resumed as did my journey into bliss.
I enjoyed watching Pat. Over the years I was jaded about looking at the female
body of beautiful models. Pat was different. She had great physical power and
she used it on subordinate males so well...her muscles rippled and her firm
breasts barely moved.
Another dozen or so thrusts and Pat was grunting loudly, working her way to
both clitoral and vaginal orgasms. Meanwhile Tony was sucking strongly and
circling my own clitoris with his tireless tongue. Knowing Pat was approaching
ecstasy brought on my own. We climaxed together laughing like school girls. As
trained, Tony remained motionless, barely breathing, until I tapped his head
as a signal to withdraw.
Pat also withdrew and we left Tony with his gonads resting in the ice bucket
while we casually poured refreshing glasses of wine.
“He takes to the strap on like a cheap whore,” Pat observed with a giggle.
I had to nod in agreement. Had Tony been born a female he would indeed make
his living by spreading his legs.
We sipped and I inspected, pulling Tony’s upper torso off the bed while he
remained kneeling over the bucket. The towel beneath was a gooey mess. Pat’s
efforts had thoroughly emptied Tony of his seed. And most notably, he had not
felt a thing.
I drew back Tony’s arms and clipped his elbow bands together, enhancing his
feeling of subservience and immobilizing his hands. Though tired, Pat and I
would frolic until dawn and I did not wish wandering fingers to distract.
We talked about the vivid display in the correction room and the offer to be
made on the masturbator. The glow of our sexual release eventually began to
subside and we prepared for bed. Pat pulled Tony from his kneeling position,
took him into the bathroom and held his penis while he relieved himself. I had
not allowed him to perform that function unsupervised since arriving at the
ranch. It was marvelously humiliating to mandate feminine assistance in such a
simple intimate function. The first few times Tony could not summon a flow and
it resulted in Pat playfully pressing against his bladder while making the
sibilant sounds of a young mother encouraging a child to urinate.
Returning to the bedroom, Pat resecured Tony’s testicle chains.
“His scrotum is still stretching,” she noted taking in another loop to
maintain proper tension.
She clipped Tony’s ankle bands together, then pushed him over onto the bed.
Unable to move arms or legs, he comically toppled like a felled tree, helpless
to stop his fall. I positioned him where his mouth and tongue could do the
most good while Pat and I snuggled.
When Pat turned off the lights, Tony was humbly paying tribute to my buttocks.
I welcomed Pat’s firm body as it slid onto the mattress beside me. Her lips
suckled my breasts as Tony moved closer and closer to the rose bud of my rear
aperture.
It was a wondrous evening. As I approached somnolence the visions of Madam
Soong flogging the masturbator flashed through my mind. Dreams about Chessu
cascaded. Slight, leather-booted Asian women wielded long whips. Naked males
served and suffered.
I recalled part of the long afternoon conversation with Madam Soong.
“If you can obtain twins, blond and blue eyed, I can assure you that I am
authorized to be most extravagant.”
Her narrative of explanation was fascinating. The old Emperor, a mere titular
ruler, was a sinecure who was denied contact with females. The Empress, thirty
years younger, refused him carnal relations deeming such to be a heretical
example to set for the province of dominant women.
“How can I lead if my subjects know I am submitting to the disgusting male
penis in the palace bedroom,” Madam quoted her as saying.
And the Empress was certainly not going to allow him the female companionship
of a concubine. That would be even more demeaning. And yet his sperm was
needed for procreation.
So, a bevy of castrates were trained to collect the regal male essence by
offering any aperture of the Emperor’s liking to arouse his prurient interest.
“We alter them young and they stay most effeminate,” the Madam explained. “But
still the Empress demands new youth in order to maintain the Emperor’s
interest..., thus my request. And controlling identical twins is considered to
be a display of potency..., blond and blue eyed as I suggested, such are
rarely seen in China. When the Empress parades them outside the palace leashed
and naked, her loyal subjects will cheer, fully aware of their nocturnal
duties in harvesting sperm.”
Half dreaming, I pictured the elderly Emperor being orally serviced by the
young castrates. Naked and restrained by orders of the Empress, the aging
phallus of the ruler rises under the passionate licks of boys whose only
remaining sexual function is too harvest semen in order to continue the
process of procreation. She watches as the Emperor struggles in not wishing to
give up sperm in such an unmanly way. But his reluctance is futile. The oddly
effeminate hands of the castrated boys caress and knead, trained tongues lick,
reddened young lips suck. And to complete the humiliation, when they feel his
climax approaching, tongues and lips withdraw and a soft and lubricated hand
merely masturbates the ruler’s stiff but withered phallus into a jar. A
laughing Empress applauds. Once again the castrates have won the twice weekly
contest, extracting what the Emperor so unwilling gives, and in so doing they
avoid a firm caning.
As sleep approached I made a mental note to contact Dr. Ann in the morning.
Surely such a simple request could be fulfilled.
If Tony’s tongue ever stopped it did so long after I slumbered. My wandering
thoughts about the quaint Asian world of male servitude brought wonderful
dreams.
* * * |
18th Birthday Present, Part VII: The Next Day | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES | Justin realizes that Dr. Dunn isn\'t to be trusted | ` At that moment I thought it was best that we leave the doctor’s office. We
quickly said our goodbyes, and drove a short way to a luxury hotel where I had
made reservation. Our suite including two bedrooms and a “reception” area with
a television. For the rest of the afternoon, until dinner time, the three of
us sat in the hotel’s lush courtyard. While my wife and I made small talk,
Justin sat quietly, looking at the greenery, his arms folded across his chest.
`
We could see how hard he was thinking; that he was trying to put all the
pieces together but just couldn’t. We knew he felt better; the drug that we
slipped during the past few days to him to make him feel ill now completely
out of his system, and the pain medication he took before leaving the doctors
office alleviating any throbbing he might feel in his empty scrotum. I think
because he felt better than he had in days, he gave up, at least for the time
being, trying to answer what exactly had just happened to him. He suddenly
stood up and announced that he was hungry.
At dinner I watched my son eat, knowing that now as a eunuch, his metabolism
would slow. Calories he consumed would no longer quickly burn up to build a
growing, young man’s body, but within months would start adding weight around
his narrow hips and washboard stomach to make him look womanish and boyish. I
told not to forget to order dessert.
We went back to the room to watch a movie. My wife and I went to bed early,
but Justin stayed up almost all night watching television. I suppose he was
trying to figure it all out. After church the next day, we went back to the
Dr. Dunn’s office for Justin’s check up.
As we rode the elevator to Dr. Dunn’s third floor office, Justin began to get
nervous.
“Do we have to go up there again,” complained Justin. “I really don’t like
this guy.”
“Dr. Dunn just wants to make sure you’re completely well, honey,” said his
mother, as she shot me a conspiratorial glance.
The elevators doors opened and my wife and I step out into the hallway. Justin
didn’t move.
“Son, come on,” I said impatiently, as I held the doors from sliding shut.
Reluctantly, Justin stepped out of the elevator.
We walked down hall way and by the time we arrived at Dr. Dunn’s office,
Justin was having trouble catching his breath. Good God, I thought, the boy’s
hyperventilating on us. My wife and I kind of pushed Justin into the
physician’s office and our son begin to sob, pleading with us not to let Dr.
Dunn hurt him.
“I’m not going hurt you, Justin,” said Dr. Dunn as he suddenly materialized
from his exam room. Justin’s eyes were wide with fight as the surgeon step
forward.
“Really, son, there’s no need for any panic attacks,” said the doctor
irritably as he raised his voice. “Now, I want you to get a hold of yourself
and step into my exam room. That’s an order!”
With that, Justin, stepped around his mother, and quietly sobbing, did has he
was told.
About 90 minutes later, Dr. Dunn and Justin stepped out of the exam room, and
like the day before, our son slid into the bathroom to get himself organized.
The old physician stepped towards us.
“Why did Justin freak out like that, doctor,” I asked?
“Oh, his subconscious mind is telling him that some happened to him that he
wouldn’t like and I’m the cause of it,” explained the doctor with an amused
gleam in his eyes. “He knows to be afraid of me, but he doesn’t know why. I
want you to know I had a good, long counseling session with Justin, and he
won’t give us any trouble now, or when things start to change with him during
the next few months.”
Dr. Dunn told us that there was no bleeding or complications with Justin’s
surgery and it was fine for us to drive home. He told us that our son’s
incisions should heal quickly and, expect for heavy lifting, Justin should be
able to do anything he wanted by the end of the week. He would be able to
shower again Saturday morning. The doctor also gave us a bottle of calcium
pills and told us to make sure that Justin had 1500 mgs per day to avoid
osteoporosis. In fact, Justin would need to take calcium supplements for the
rest of his life.
Suddenly, the door of the bathroom opened, and Justin shot out.
“Mom and Dad, please let’s go home,” said our son has he passed us without
breaking stride.
He quickly side-stepped past Dr. Dunn without speaking to him, and headed
straight out the door and down the hallway towards the elevator.
The three of us looked at each other and smiled. My wife and I thanked Dr.
Dunn, said goodbye to him, and hurried out of his office to catch up with our
son.
End of part VII
* * * |
How Big Could They Get | STRAIGHT | She wants elephant balls. She gets elephant balls. | So How Big Could They Get
Ý
Ý
Ý
Listen Janet you won't believe how big I've got Bill's ball sack! Christ girl
he looks like he's got a basketball hanging between his legs he can barely
walk! It's so comical Janet you've got to get over here and check him out! You
won't believe how much saline I've loaded him with this time. It's like his
scrotum is ready to explode!
Ý
My scrotum was ready to burst this time! It was huge! The biggest she had ever
fill it. Stretching the scrotal neck thin flaring out at the bottom below my
knees huge! My wife Karen giggling helping me to a standing position in front
of the bedroom mirror marveling at her handy work exclaiming! "God baby look
at you! Look how big my big boy is! It takes a real man to carry that weight
around"!
Ý
I wouldn't say Karen was pervrted or anything but she did have a penchant for
a male with big testicles which I had but they weren't big enough for her! She
wanted a man with a big hanging sack dangling between his legs something like
an elephant would have. She would show me pictures of elephants and bulls
exclaiming about how big their balls were and if I would like having balls
that big!
It was a slow process she used always commenting while handling me during sex.
How she wished my balls were bigger, and how sexy I'd look with big bloated
dangling testicles like a big bull elephant! "Baby could you imagine yourself
fucking me with balls that big! God just think how much of a man you could be
with balls that big"!
Well she wanted a male with elephant balls and looking at myself in the mirror
they were, or should I say the sack was as big as an elephants! There was no
definition to my individual balls just one big bloated hanging sack between my
knees slowly swaying like a heavy pendulum. Her hand on my belly looking in
the mirror at my bloated scrotum then to my eyes with a smile she kissed my
shoulder then one hand slid down my back grabbing my ass squeezing hard
causing me to jerk forward and like a counter weight the big heavy sac between
my legs swung out pulling me with it then back! She roared with laughter! "OH
MY GOD!! Wait until Janet sees you"!
Janet was definitely no stranger to me. She was a lifelong friend of Karen's
and there were no secrets between them. Karen would regularly have me service
her which I did gladly! Her being the shy type she didn't get much cock. Not
that she was ugly or anything quite to the contrary. She was extremely
attractive but so intelligent she found most males silly creatures not worth
her time as they were boring. I was just a convenience, just a walking cock
for her!
Ý
Were in here Janet! Karen turning me by my shoulders facing the bedroom door.
Janet's mouth fell open her eyes locked onto my giant bloated scrotum! "Jesus
Christ Karen! You've gone to far this time girl look at him! Fuck you've made
a cripple out of him! Look his knees are about to buckle with the weight of
that sac"!
I was trembling a little but straighten up in a show of male pride at my
ability to support the weight hanging between my legs! I even tried pulling my
balls up in front of Janet to show her. But they barely moved. But the effort
caused a slight jerk and twist to her amusement. She said with a big smile.
"Oh poor baby! Did little bad old Karen give you too much to handle? You poor
thing"!
My nine inch cock was dwarfed by my ball sac but it stood out hard. Using it
she pulled me towards her and kissed me!
Ý
"Karen! You think this big balled freak can still fuck without this balloon
sac of his rupturing"?
This was a insult to my manhood! I took offense to her and Karen to who was
now laughing at me. Janet pulled my cock up and twisted it while Karen reached
down behind my legs slapping the bottom of my dangling sac hard! As my scrotum
swung out Janet released my cock and pushed the center of my chest with her
hand sending me flying backwards to the floor! Immediately I rolled over
dragging my bloated sac across one thigh to all fours it dangling between my
thighs touching the floor! Suddenly Karen's hand was on the back of my neck
pushing it down causing my ass up and my ball sac completely exposed to Janet!
Suddenly my ball sac exploded with blood and saline! Like a pregnant woman
whose water had broken! Janet's sharp high heel had ruptured me sending a
flood of fluids beneath me! Just a ugly hanging empty bag hung between my
thighs split open with one testicle exposed.
Karen shocked released my neck! But Janet pushed her sharp heel into my ass
hole forcing me to collapse into my own mess! "Fucking big balled fuck"!
Ý
The End
* * * |
After Having a Child (Not a Minor Theme) | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES | At the beginning of the 21st century the population of the planet grew at an alarmingly quick rate. By 2020 there were 9 000 000 000 people on Earth, that means almost 50% more than in 2000. The United Nations decided to implement severe birth control measures to ensure the each couple only had one child. This is the story of how the birth control got implemented. | ` I can still vividly remember the debates in the senate. I was 15 at the time
and although normally I wasn't interested at all in politics, this was
something that concerned me directly. The bill they were discussing was
called: "Male Birth Control Act". This was actually just a fancy name for an
enforced castration bill. When I saw those men and women debating, my balls
drew together. They were actually discussing a bill that would see every man
castrated! The senate discussed it for about 3 weeks and finally passed the
bill. Nobody knew when it was to be implemented or what the immediate
consequences of it would be. `
The first few days after the bill was passed there were massive
demonstrations. Hundreds of thousands of men marched onto the streets. When
you looked closely at the demonstrators, you could actually see that there
were almost no women. Mainly men. Men who were afraid that they would have to
be castrated because the government told them so.
The politicians played it very smart. They didn't respond at all. They didn't
come on the news to respond or for that matter explain the new law. They just
seemed to have disappeared. Even the president didn't show his face for weeks.
It seemed they had all just gone on a long vacation or resigned. And so, when
nobody reacted to all the demonstrations, the demonstrations subsided. Fewer
and fewer people came to the demonstrations and after a short while, the
demonstrations only attracted very small crowds of some ten or twenty people.
At home I did discuss the situation a lot with my parents and my sister. My
father was -- of course -- scared. He didn't want to loose his balls. My
mother and my sister weren't so negative about the whole thing. They thought
that it would actually be good for all men to loose their balls. Men were to
bossy, too aggressive and only after one thing: sex. They weren't caring for
their wives of girlfriends, they just wanted sex as much as they could
possibly get. Mainly my sister was a big supporter of the new law. She has had
many boyfriends, and some of them didn't treat her to well. So perhaps, her
reaction could be understood. But still, if you castrate a man, he looses all
interest in sex. Was that so fair towards all the fathers out there who are
good and caring husbands and who just want to enjoy sex with their wives? Take
my father for example. He had himself sterilized a few months after I was
born. I suppose he still regularly has sex with my mother. Why punish him?
And so the discussions went on in our family. Why not just sterilize men? Why
castrate them? In the media the subject seemed to have vanished. Mainly
because of the lack of reaction from the politicians. Looking back at it all,
the couldn't have played it any better...
It was two weeks before my sixteenth birthday. The mailman brought two
letters. One for my father and one for me. We had to sign them off. They must
have been important!
I opened mine first:
"Dear Martin Field,
Friday, March 12 2024 there is an information session for men concerning the
new "Male Birth Control Act". You are hereby invited to the session of 7 pm.
Please be advised that your presence at the session is mandatory. Failing to
show up, will be punishable with a prison sentence of 1 to 2 months.
The city council"
After looking over my shoulder, my father opened his. Same letter for him...
The whole family was silent for a while. Nobody had seen this coming. They had
been so silent concerning the subject, that we had actually almost forgotten
about it: the bill was not only passed, it was to come into play sometime...
I was actually a little bit worried. I mean, exactly one week after the
information session I had my 16th birthday coming up. And now I would be
hearing whether and how I would be castrated. My father was also anxious, I
could see it.
They week progressed slowly. Very slowly. I spoke to my friends about the
letter my father and me received. And none of them had received the same
letter. Although Jack, one of my friends, had also heard from another father
and son who were invited to the same information session. Hearing this didn't
make me feel at ease. I was actually becoming more and more nervous. It seems
they had only selected a few people for the information session. Did this mean
that only part of the male population were to be castrated? And that I was to
be one of the unlucky ones?
The week progressed even more slowly from that point on. I masturbated every
chance I had. I downloaded heaps of porn from the web and masturbated while in
front of the computer. I had nightmares. I saw myself lying on an operating
table, with a doctor and a nurse standing between my spread legs. I could
actually see the doctor pick up the scalpel and draw two lines in my scrotum.
I could see him take my right ball with a forceps and then tie of the cord.
The same on the left side. Then I always seemed to drift into sleep. Just as
good that I mostly woke up with a very stiff erection in the morning. At least
some prove that I was still a man.
I was also thinking about sex with a girl a whole lot more then before I got
the letter. I was actually afraid that I would perhaps be castrated without
ever having felt a girl. Penetrating a pussy. Getting a blow job. I was really
getting nervous. When waling on the street, I would look at every young woman.
Thinking about how it would be if I had sex with her. I was actually going
mad, I wanted to know what was going to happen to me. I didn't want to be
castrated! I wasn't even 16, this could not be happening!
It was friday now. My father looked grim. You could see that he was also very
nervous now. My mother didn't look any better I must say. I think she was also
very concerned with the both of us. With my father because she loved him and
she didn't want him to get castrated and with me because you just don't want
such a thing to happen to your son. My sister on the other hand was actually
in a good mood: "so boys, say goodbye to your little sperm-producing balls
down there, now you're exactly going to hear when and how you will be done",
she said in a laughing way. But you could see that she actually meant what she
said. Before she could say any more, my father decided that it was time to go
to the municipal center.
When we arrived there, there was a reception with a young women behind the
desk. She asked us why we were here. After we told here we were her for the
birth control information session, she asked us for our names. She made a note
on her computer that we had arrived. She said that the information session for
young men was separate from the general information session. She directed me
to the right door, while se brought my father to another room. Before she
separated us, she told us that we would both be finished in around one and a
half hours.
When I entered the door she had brought me to, I was actually surprised a
little bit. This wasn't a conference room or something were someone could hold
a lecture about this new law. It was more something like a locker room. A man
in a white coat came to me and told me to undress and put all my clothes in a
locker. This wasn't going as I hoped it would. Would they actually castrate us
right now? Lure us over here for some kind of information session and then
just do it? Cut of our balls? No...!!!
While I undressed myself the man sat behind a desk and did something on a
computer. When he saw that I had completely undressed myself, he stood up and
came in my direction. He said: "follow me". I followed him and we arrived in a
room with a dozen chairs. He pointed to a chair and I sat down. The room
seemed empty, none of the other chairs were occupied. The man in the white
coat had pushed a button so that my chair began moving. The chair actually
resembled a dentist's chair. While at first I sat upright, now I was almost
lying horizontally with my legs spread apart. I didn't trust this at all and I
candidly asked him if I would be castrated tonight. The man said that it
wasn't his job to explain and that I would find out soon enough. He then took
a bottle of foam and sprayed it over my private parts. He looked at his watch
and I could see him waiting for exactly 60 seconds. From under the chair ho
took a nozzle and sprayed hot water all over my penis, scrotum and upper
thighs. My pubic hair was gone. The entire area that was covered by the foam
was now totally hairless.
Before I could think any further, the chair began moving again and was
returning to its previous position. The man directed me to follow him. We
entered another room with a lot of cabins in it. The cabins were positioned in
groups of two. He made me enter one of the cabins. The cabin was actually
pretty small. There were two footprints drawn on the floor and the man
directed me to put my feet exactly there. In front of me I saw nothing. It
looked like black glass and I couldn't see through it. When I was standing
where the man wanted me to stand, the man pulled down something from the
ceiling. It was a large machine with two handles and two holes. The man
positioned the highest hole just in front of my stiffening penis. He told me
to lean into the machine and guide my penis in the hole. When I pushed my
semi-hard penis in the hole, it actually felt great. It was warm and soft and
-- I suppose -- was meant to feel like a woman's vagina. I definitely wanted
more! De man in de white coat pulled a loop out from the second hole and
pulled the loop over my balls. He tightened the loop, so that the loop would
stay around my balls, but it certainly didn't strangle my balls. I thought by
myself that this would be it, that now I would be castrated... The man then
said to enjoy the process. "Enjoy"? How could I enjoy my own emasculation? The
man left en closed the door of the booth. Just then the machine began sucking
on my penis and on the black glass wall a video was projected. The video was
about a girl who was masturbating. The feeling I got from watching the video
and the machine sucking on my cock was incredible and I was sure that I
wouldn't last very long if this continued.
The machine clearly read my mind... Although the video stopped, the machine
kept sucking. The color of the black wall changed and after a few seconds it
was just a clear glass wall. Then it hit me. My father was in the adjecent
booth. He was in exactly the same situation as me. The machine upped the tempo
now. It became harder and harder to resist. I knew I would soon deliver my
load. When I looked at my father's face, I could see the machine was doing the
same to him. I think I broke first, but my father wasn't that far behind. When
I came, I came with a force I hadn't felt before. Certainly very different
from all the times I had masturbated. Just then I began to panic and realize
that this would be my last time before I was unmanned. No!!! I don't want to
be castrated! I want to be able to fuck girls and use my seed to make
children! Help! But I don't think anyone heard my screams. Even my father
didn't seem to notice. He was also just beginning to recover from his orgasm.
After a few seconds the machine began sucking again. Normally I can't cum
twice in such a short time, but now the familiar feeling came back very soon.
I think my father was in the same situation. The machine must have sensed
something, because now there was a voice all of a sudden: "Gentlemen, welcome
to this castration session. As you must know by now, by order of the United
Nations all men will have to be castrated. The castration procedure has now
been set into action and when you will ejaculate for the second time, the
castration will take place. Please..."
"No!!!", I screamed... at almost the same time I ejaculated, which meant that
I would lose my balls forever. I would never get the chance to fuck a girl of
have a baby. "Arrrrghhhh, help me!"
"... stay calm and enjoy your last moments as a complete man."
Just then the booth of my father moved... I could see my father's booth being
elevated. Just when his balls were at the height of my eyes I could see that
his balls were also trapped in a loop. Just then I could see that his balls
began shuddering: he must be having his last orgasm. As the machine my father
was connected to sensed that he had cummed, I could see that the loop was
beginning to glow red. I could feel that the wire that was around my balls was
also getting tighter. We were getting castrated together and I could get to
watch my father's castration. The wire before my eyes was now glowing red. I
could see that it was also thightening. As the extremely hot wire touched the
skin of his scrotum, I could see my father shivering. The loop immediately
began burning through his skin. Meanwhile, I could feel the wire around my own
scrotum getting thighter to, but it didn't feel hot. I watched as my father's
scrotum was burnt through. While the process was taking place, I could see
that my father continued humping the pole: he was actually still fucking the
hole, while he was being castrated. Coming to think of it, my penis was harder
now then it had ever been. I was actually getting aroused with this castration
scene.
And then, just then, the wire was completely through my father's sac. And his
sac fell to the floor, nicely sealed of at the top. It was just a hairy sac
now, it didn't really belong to my father anymore. I just came at that moment,
it was such a powerful feeling. It was really incredible. With all of the
arousal I felt, I completely forgot about my own situation. I was still in a
castration booth to and I had a very tight wire around my set of balls. With
that thought, my erection quickly faded.
A few moments after my father's balls fell to the floor, there was a voice in
the booth: "This castration session is over. A nurse will come and get you in
a short period of time and will discuss after-care with the eunuch. Good luck
with your eunuch status and thank you." What? Did this mean that I didn't get
castrated? When the nurse finally opened my booth, I asked: what the hell
happened. When I saw my father getting castrated, I surely thought that I
would be castrated next! The nurse replied that the new law that came into
effect was there so that every man who has at least one child is to be
castrated and all of his sons get to see the castration as a kind of
preparation for their own castration when they became a father. So the reason
for me being here was actually that I was being given a kind of preview of
what would be happening to me after I became a father. The nurse let me out of
the booth and took me back to the changing room where I left my clothes. After
a few minutes my father was brought in.
The first thing he asked: are you in any pain? This meant that he still didn't
know that I wasn't castrated. I told him that and he actually seemed relieved.
Luckily! So you can continue the family line, I was a little afraid that the
Cooper family line ended right today. What did they do to you then he asked?
They strapped me into the same machine as they did you I guess and they let me
watch your castration when I was in the machine. What? You actually could see
me while I was in the booth? I couldn't see you said my father!
Clearly, the set-up of this all was to castrate my father and show the whole
procedure to me as a kind of preparation for when I was called to get
castrated.
I took my father home after that. Although he said that the castration hadn't
hurt as much as he had thought, he still walked a little funny on the way
home. I asked him what he was supposed to do now. Did he get any special-care
instructions? He just told me that they gave him a cream that he is supposed
to put on the scar so that it will heal more quickly, but other than that,
they didn't tell him anything.
After that day, the two of us discussed his castration a lot. After a week or
two, he told me that he hadn't had any more spontaneous erections since his
castration. I asked him if he had tried fucking mom since his castration and
he said he didn't, because he was still in pain. Just a few days later he and
mom did try to fuck he told me. He could still get an erection, but is sure
wasn't as stiff anymore. They had fucked for 2 hours and he hadn't cummed at
all he told me. My mother had asked him to stop, because her vagina began
feeling raw after 2 hours of continuous fucking.
So, that was the story of how it began. When I was 18 and went to college, I
met Allison. Allison was the first girl I made love to. After some 4 years we
got married and a few years later we had our first child. Just two weeks after
Allison gave birth to Jim, there was a letter addressed to me. It was my
castration notice. I was to report to the municipal castration center for my
automated castration as they now began calling it. I had to report within 10
days. I really freaked out at that moment, because I didn't want to lose the
ability to fuck my wife! Allison was also very much in shock, we hadn't seen
it coming that soon... We were even thinking about a second child... but that
wasn't going to happen with this bad news... That week we fucked a lot, really
a lot. I took a few days of work and although Allison had just given birth and
wasn't supposed to have any penis in vagina contact for a few weeks, we just
couldn't resist. We fucked like rabbits and the last day before I was to go to
the castration center, we fucked like 12 times. The last times, I didn't
really cum anymore, but I still got hard somehow, so we fucked.
The day I was going to the castration center, Allison woke me up by giving me
the best blowjob of my life. It was long, and she just did magic with her
tongue on my penis. When I blew my load, my wife really enjoyed my seed in her
mouth, I could see. Although normally, she doesn't really like to swallow, she
did it this time. She seemed to enjoy every last drop of it, as if it was a
very expensive foreign food that you only bought once in a while for special
occasions. We both got dressed and were very silent. When I left for my
castration she hugged me and told me to be brave.
When I arrived at the castration center, I identified myself to the clerk
sitting at the reception. She picked up the phone and a moment later a nurse
arrived that took my further into the complex. I was taken into a room where I
was told to undress. When I took everything off except my underwear, the nurse
told me: now don't go shy on me, I've seen many penises and set of balls here,
not only that of my husband! I laughed and took it off. Just follow me now and
lets get this over with the nurse said. I was taken to a booth that resembled
the one I was put in when my father was castrated and I was there to watch it.
Only now, as far as I could see the booth wasn't adjacent to another one. They
had castrated all the fathers that had sons that are old enough to watch the
procedure, so there was no need for those kind of setups any more. Now, the
only men that got castrated were fathers of young children. You now just got
your letter a few days after your child was born. Some got the letter after
their first child, while some other got their letter after their second child.
There were actually no more families with 3 children, that is something of the
past now. And in fact, the families that consisted of 2 children were also
pretty scarce: only a lucky few were picked out by a kind of lottery system to
have 2 children. I heard on the news once that the percentage of men that got
castrated after their second child was 7%.
The nurse called me back to the real world. She told me to spread my legs and
put my feet in the special places. She then pulled a large device from the
sealing of the booth. Just as before, the pole that came from the sealing had
two holes in it. The fucking hole and the castration hole as I would name
them. My penis was actually pretty flaccid I must say. The nurse saw that and
took some lube and quickly lubed my penis and stroked it a few times until it
began growing. She then guided my penis into the fucking hole. After that she
gently took my scrotum in her left hand and pulled the castration loop out of
the castration hole and put if over my ball sac. She whispered to me that I
had a really nice set of balls and that they reminded her of the set of balls
of her husband. She tickled the back of my scrotum a little and teasingly
said. Just remember, when you come out of here, you won't be feeling that
anymore, because this whole thing -- and now she had my entire scrotum in her
left hand -- will be mine. Enjoy your last few moments as a man and if you
can, you can fuck my after it. With that, she closed the booth and the machine
sprung to life. My now hard cock was being sucked on and soon I began humping
back and forth with my pelvis into the machine. I wanted to enjoy my last cum
as a man, so I didn't want it go happen to quickly! But there was nothing I
could do. Even though I had had so many orgasms the last few days, I was
already feeling my orgasm beginning after a minute or so. Just before I
started cumming, I could feel the heat of the wire beginning. A few seconds
later the heat was incredible and I hadn't had my orgasm yet. Now the wire was
beginning to tighten and a few seconds later I could feel the incredibly hot
wire touch the skin of my scrotum. Although it hurt enormously, just at the
time that the wire began eating into my skin, I orgasmed. The whole process
seemed to take forever. I could still feel my balls, but I could feel the heat
even more. At a certain moment I couldn't feel my balls anymore and a fraction
of a second later I could hear a plop. I looked down and I saw my bag on the
floor with a big red scar that was kind of welded shut. Strangely enough I
cummed again, right there and then. As if my body wanted to shoot it's very
last load.
The nurse came in and helped my step out of the booth. She quickly applied
some cream to my wound and then helped me walk back to the dressing room.
So, still in for some sex like I promised you, the nurse asked? She teasingly
undressed and stood there in front of my in her lingerie. A very revealing bra
with small cups and very nice stocking were part of the lingerie set. I
couldn't feel anything in my penis to be honest. Normally, it would spring to
attention immediately, but now it didn't even react. She turned around and got
dressed again. She smiled at me and told me not to expect any more erections.
The cream she had applied was a cream that quickly drained the remaining level
of testosterone out of my blood stream.
She helped me get dressed and showed me out. That was it. I was a eunuch now.
I didn't like the sound of it, but that is all I am now. A eunuch.
* * * |
A Boy's Journy: Part II - Into The Future | GAY, PENECTOMY | The 2nd of a three part story. All of the events in the first part are true. They happened exactly as recorded, to the best of my memory. Part II is fictionalized for your entertainment. | ` I missed Michael a lot after he moved away. It wasn’t just the masturbation,
although that was a big part of it. Part of it was just having access to
another penis besides mine. What I really missed, though, was having another
person who knew. Knew everything. How big I was. How I liked to masturbate.
How much I ejaculated. Someone I didn’t have to pretend around. I loved
talking about sex and with Michael I could say anything I wanted. I had even
told him my secret. The one about losing my penis. It didn’t matter of he took
me seriously or not. I had said it out loud. Another human being knew my
innermost desire.`
Michael being gone didn’t slow down my masturbatory habits; in fact I probably
did it even more often. It was always by myself after that though. Besides my
own, Micheal’s hand was the only way that I ever had an orgasm. I never had
the nerve to approach anyone else. My friends were all growing up and there
was no way to justify it as curiosity or childish exploration. Without a live
person to be with I needed something to fuel my masturbation fantasies.
Dreaming about classmates will only take you so far. I knew there was
something out there, but I wasn’t sure what it was. At least until I got my
first computer.
I was hooked on the computer from the first time I started to use it. I read
every book and magazine I could get my hands on and learned everything I could
about it. We lived in a pretty rural area when I was growing up – it was a
town of about 20,000 people and there sure weren’t any computer stores. These
were the days before the internet, so to grow my library of programs I turned
to dial up bulletin board system – BBSs. There was a magazine out at that time
called “Computer Shopper.” It was a huge magazine full of ads mostly, but with
a few good articles thrown in. One particular area that interested me was the
BBS listings in the back of the magazine. There were hundreds of them, maybe
thousands. I would pore through them, reading the names and trying to pick
ones that might have the largest selections of programs to download. One in
particular caught my eye. “The Men’s Room BBS”
Dialing into that BBS was another watershed event in my life. True to my hope,
it was an “adult” BBS. And more than that. It was a gay BBS. Up until this
point I had never given any thought to my activities with Michael, my
daydreaming about boys, or the fact that I imagined boys when I masturbated. I
didn’t have a label to put on myself. Or at least I didn’t want to. After I
started reading stories from The Men’s Room I had to re-evaluate myself and my
desires. I was 15 the first time I called myself what I really was: gay.
The Men’s Room had stories that users had submitted, and that included stories
from other bulletin board systems. There was one story posted called “Alice,”
and it was from a bulletin board system in California called “Feminet.” The
basic plot of “Alice” was that a boy got punished by his mother by her
changing him into a girl. Completely. I believe the reference was to “smooth
panties” and the fact that “Alice” wouldn’t be out of place at a girl’s swim
party – even in a bikini. There is was again. A boy without his penis. I was
torn because the feminism elements of the story didn’t interest me at all. But
the idea of a boy who had had the operation. I couldn’t get it out of my head.
What he must feel like to have some as special as his penis taken from him. To
never touch it. To never orgasm again. I masturbated to that story over and
over again. I finally got up the nerve to dial into Feminet to browse their
whole library of stories. There were a lot of stories of transvestites and
crossdressing, and even of sex changes. But the few that had normal boys
having the operation. Losing it. Those were the ones that drove me wild and
were the center of my erotic masturbatory fantasies.
Long distance bills were killing me. Well not me, specifically, but my dad.
Calling to Minneapolis and California all the time was getting expensive, and
I couldn’t very well tell him that I absolutely needed those calls or else I
would turn into a raving sex fiend. Just in time, along came my savior – the
internet. I dove into the internet with the same passion I had with BBSs, and
within a short time found out that there was even more interesting material on
the internet than I could have dreamed about on BBSs. My first brush with
destiny came in alt.eunuchs.questions. There was a story there simply titled
“Penectomy.” I didn’t even know what the word meant then but as I read the
story I understood. It was my word. It was my secret desire all wrapped up in
one word. At last I knew that I wasn’t the only one out there interested in
the subject. It was the most erotic thing I had ever read. All of the power of
a penectomy, the frustration of retaining the testicles, and most of all the
man stayed a man. A man without a penis.
It was another one of those times in my life where I had reached a turning
point. I approached it with my usual zeal. I read everything I could get my
hands on, both on the internet and off. I found sites like the Eunuch Archive,
where I felt at home. I became more and more convinced that I wanted, no
needed, to have a penectomy. I wanted to be a boy without a penis. I wanted
that sexual frustration. I also became convinced that there was no way I was
ever going to get one. I was 16, lived at home with my parents, and if that
weren’t enough even if I had the money and permission the only real doctors I
found performed sex changes. Not penectomies. I would lose my balls and get a
vagina. And I would have to wait two years to get the process started, and
then would have to face my family and tell them I wanted to be a girl. I
didn’t want that. I couldn’t go through that and still not get what I wanted
in the end anyway.
To use a term from the 60s, way before my time, I was a square. Virtually
invisible in high school, neither popular nor hated, I went about my business,
got good grades, was nice, polite, and smart. Just the way teachers liked it.
I was a realist about the chances of getting a penectomy and about the
terrible, wonderful results that would happen if I did somehow make it a
reality. Masturbation was my life. I did it at night, in the morning before
school, often a time or two during school, when I got home from school.
Masturbation was literally my hobby. It wasn’t even a case of being horny all
of the time. Often times when I would masturbate I would have to give myself
an erection. I wasn’t horny but I did want the feeling. I suppose you could
fairly say that I was addicted, although I wouldn’t attach the negative
connotations of that word to it. I enjoyed masturbating so it did it – a lot.
Even when I wasn’t horny, wasn’t erect I could feel my penis between my legs –
it was almost hypersensitive in a way that I have never heard another boy or
man describe. My mom never threatened to cut off my penis for masturbating or
anything of the kind. My desire for a penectomy was totally independent of my
masturbation except for the role it played in my fantasies. In other words I
wasn’t looking to punish myself for masturbating. Penectomy – and the sexual
frustration, the loss of masturbation and orgasm was a perverse gift I wanted
to give myself, even knowing that if I achieved it I would find my self in my
ultimate erotic situation, the one that had fueled my masturbation fantasies
for years, with no way to enjoy it physically, then or ever.
I really had no clue what to do next, but I approached it as I tried to do
every challenge in my life – logically. I knew whether I had a penectomy next
month, next year, or when I was 25 that it would cost money. It wasn’t hard to
convince my parents to let me get a job. They had bought me a car when I
turned 16 and got my license. We weren’t rich by any means, and it wasn’t a
new car, but it got the job done. I was honest with them … at least as honest
as I could be. I told them I was saving up to do something special when I got
to be a senior. And so I did. Evenings and weekends were spent helping the
uniniformed select computer hardware and software from Best Buy. The pay was
not great, but since I didn’t have anything else to spend the money on it
added up pretty fast. I worked full time during that summer, part time again
my junior year, and full time again in the summer before my senior year. My
parents kept asking me about my special plans and I told them the truth – that
I hadn’t made a decision yet.
A year and a half of online research and offline masturbation had proven to me
that what I wanted was real and obtainable. I had read so many transsexual
websites that I could have typed a directory of surgeons from memory, but that
still wasn’t what I wanted, and there was still the matter of my age. What did
intrigue me though were the fringes of the transsexual online community. Those
who lacked the money, or the patience, to go through normal channels – the
year wait, the letter from the psychiatrist, the hormone therapy – often
settled for clinics in places like Thailand and Mexico where even though the
techniques were substandard compared to someone like Biber, were not bound by
the same restrictions. They could get it done safely and quickly for anyone
that could pay the fee. So what if a transsexual man sacrificed the ability to
remain orgasmic in exchange for a quick pussy? If they were happy, my thought
was more power to them. I sure as hell didn’t care about staying orgasmic – no
that’s not true. I knew I couldn’t be orgasmic after the surgery or the whole
exercise would be wasted. If those doctors would perform quickie sex changes
operations, then there sure as hell had to be someone who would perform a
penectomy if the price was right.
In a year and a half of not spending a cent of my earnings I had saved close
to seven thousand dollars. I knew that even as cool as my parents were that a
trip to Thailand was out of the question, so that limited my search to doctors
and clinics in Mexico. Because the clientele these clinics catered to were not
the poor locals they all conducted business in English. Having believed at
first that ever arranging for the surgery would be impossible, I was prepared
for a long and difficult process. I had gone from thinking it was impossible,
to thinking it was far in the future, to thinking it was going to take a lot
of time and effort to get it done. All four of the clinics responded to my
emails within the week. All four performed penectomies and castrations in
addition to transsexual surgeries and each said that they would perform the
surgery even though I was not yet 18. The prices ranged from $3500-$5000 and
as long as the money was prepaid and I passed the physical when I arrived I
would get my operation. I actually called the clinics to find out as much as I
could about them.
Because of the very nature of the services they provided they all catered to
people flying in without friends or family with them. I ended up sending a
certified check for $5000 to a clinic called La Hacienda. They would pick me
up at the airport, provide lodging before and after the surgery and would
route phone calls from friends and family as “La Hacienda Hotel” using a
special 1-800 number Because of my grades I was on track to graduate from high
school a semester early – my last day of class was December 20th when the rest
of the school adjourned for Christmas break. I made my plane reservation for
Monday, January 3rd, allowing me to spend Christmas with my family (which they
would NEVER have let me be gone for) and avoid the rush of New Years’s
travelers on the 2nd, which was a Sunday.
I had requested that all communication be made by email, and within three
weeks of the time I sent them my travel schedule I had a patient number and a
check in time. I would arrive on Monday the 3rd on the 7 am flight and the
operation would be performed on Wednesday the 5th at 7am. I leaned back in my
chair and pulled my penis out of my fly. It was hard as a rock and I stroked
it as I read the itinerary over and over again. In a little over two months I
would no longer have a penis. I was really afraid … I was going to change my
body forever. I was going to give up the ability to ever have another orgasm.
I was going to give up the ability to be normal, to be able to stip in a
lockerroom and hit the showers. I had never even had my tonsils or appendix
out and I was going to have an operation to amputate my penis. I ejaculated a
huge load, hitting my shirt and dripping down onto my pants. I closed Outlook,
stood up and stripped my clothes off. I still had semen on my cock so I
grabbed my shirt and wiped it off, pulled on a pair of shorts picked up my
clothes hamper of dirty laundry, including my semen stained clothes, and
headed to the wash room.
I bet I averaged five times a day masturbating over the next two months. Five
times sixty is three hundred orgasms and it was still like I couldn’t get
enough. Every time I would think about the trip I would get an erection;
sometimes I just let them go to pretend like it was after the surgery. Finally
I would get desperate and pop into the nearest restroom to masturbate, all the
while thinking –knowing—that there would be no such escape valve after January
5th.
It was stange getting shorts and floral print shirts for Christmas when it was
15 degrees and snowing outside, but it was a nice gesture on the part of my
parents. I actually got the whole works – cloths, socks, and underwear. I was
going to be gone for a whole month – returning home on February 3rd so of
course mom wanted to make sure I had enough clothes. I assured here that the
‘hotel’ had a laundry service that was part of the cost. Both my parents were
happy that I had had the tenacity to work and save money for this trip – and
even though they didn’t know the real reason – were glad to see my hard work
paying off for me.
The day before the plane left I spent a lot of time in my room packing and
masturbating. Every so often I would just strip off all of my clothes and look
at myself in the mirror on my closet door. Watching my penis bouncing in time
with my heartbeat was fascinating. I tried to memorize every feeling, every
tickle, every detail of my penis. I stood sideways to look at it in profile
and flexed my cock muscle as hard as I could, leaning backwords to thrust my
hips and penis forward. I could see the glans swell and turn a dark purple
with the increased pressure and the veins on my penis stand out like those on
the arms of muscle bound men in the Mr. Universe contest.
The next morning at 5 am my mother dropped me off at the airport. I hauled my
luggage to the nearest restroom where I shed my coat and winter clothes in
exchange for khaki shorts and a floral print shirt. With my winter clothes
safely tucked into a suitcase I headed for the line at the airline counter to
get my bags checked and my boarding pass. That accomplished I headed to the
gate where I had to wait another thirty minutes before we began boarding the
plane. I threw my one carry-on bag over my shoulder and headed down the
jetway. I already had an erection in my pants but knew that it would be a
while before I could do anything about it. I sat down in my seat and buckled
my seatbelt. I started reading “The River God” by Wilbur Smith, a book that I
had gotten from Barnes and Noble the previous week and had been saving for the
flight. The central character is a slave castrated – penis and testicles – for
having sex with a girl. We soon were airborn on our way to Mexico, a four hour
flight. The seatbelt light was on the first three and one half hours so I
could do nothing but sit and suffer with my erection. When we were able to get
up and move around the cabin a line formed almost immediately and there was no
way I could get in and take care of business before we landed. That last bit
of the flight went quickly and soon we were on the ground in Mexico. I
debarked from the plane with the rest of the passangers and was hoping to find
a restroom in the airport to masturbate in until I saw that the driver from La
Hacienda was already there, holding a sign with my name on it. I went to the
bathroom, but didn’t want to take the time while he was waiting on me to jerk
off. I stood at the urinal and forced myself to urinate even though I was
still half hard. I looked down at my penis in my hand and gave it a tug and
thought to myself that it might be the last time I ever used a urinal.
The driver carried my luggage to the car, which was a nice sedan. The airport
was fairly large and sophisticated, being a port for incoming tourists, but
once we left there there was hardly any traffic at all and the ride to La
Hacienda took only about 25 minutes. We were close to the heart of the tourist
district and only about then blocks away from the beach itself. It was busier
here, but not as much as I expected. It finally dawned on me that the real
busy time of the year would come about March when the spring break crowd hit –
tons of horny boys and girls looking to strip down on the famous nude beached,
take advantage of the non-existant minimum drinking age and get down to having
sex in what ever combination or combinations turned them on. I thought about
those high school guys, sitting at home and jerking off every night at the
thought of getting laid in this young person’s paradise. I wondered what they
would think of someong coming here to have their penis removed. For the first
time in a while I thought of Michael and what he would think if he knew that
the penis he knew as well as his own wouldn’t exist in another day. All kinds
of weird thoughts ran through my head, like what it would be like to be back,
in front of my mom and dad and know even though they (I hoped!) didn’t
specifically think of my penis would assume it was still there. I thought
about how proud Dad must have been when he saw my penis between my legs – his
son! And the times that mom changed my diaper and gently wiped, cleaned, and
powered it. I even thought about the doctor who circumcised me … who took my
penis in his hand and with a scalpel took my foreskin and left my penis
beautifully clean and pretty. What would he think if he knew that less than
eighteen years later that another doctor would again be holding my penis in
one hand and a scalpel in the other, only this time the perfection of the
circumcisor would be destroyed, along with the entirety of the penis?
I was awakened from my daydream by the driver, who parked the car in the
building’s underground parking garage and unloaded my luggage for the
attendants waiting there for us. I threw my carry-on bag over my shoulder and
followed the driver into the building. The clinic was nicer than anything I
ever expected. I had nightmare visions of a third world type hospital with
civil war era equipment and dirt floors. La Hacienda rivaled any medical
facility I had ever seen in the states. Evidently it paid to be nice enough to
attract the right kind of clientele, and even though the speciality there was
cut rate castrations and sex change operations that five thousand dollars an
operation bought a nice facility in a country where the locals average about
eight dollars a day in wages. The place was clean and modern. We rode an
elevator up one floor, from the garage level to the main lobby where I would
check in. The lobby was nicely appointed with local plants and trees, a stone
tile floor, and a small fountain as the focal point of the room, whose three
story ceiling topped with a glass skylight was more than ample to encompass
it. The driver led me to an office off of the main lobby where he introduced
me to the admissions nurse, a man in his 30s, and bid me farewell. I pulled
the printout of the confirmation email I had been sent out and handed it to
him. He plugged the number into the computer, asked me my name and proceeded
to go through a standard list of health checkup questions – any problem? Any
medications? Any allergies to medication? After he was satisfied with the
answers he had me follow him into a small examination room where I stripped to
my shorts. He listened to my heart and lungs and ignored the obvious erection
in my pants. He drew blood and told me I could get dressed. That was it – the
doctors would review the results of the physical and the bloodwork and I would
get final approval for the operation by 1 o’clock the next day – the day
before the surgery if everything went as planned.
The nurse took me to the office next door where they completed the
registration paperwork and assigned me a room. The clerk handed me a map of
the building and my electronic key card and told me how to get to my room, and
assured me that my luggage would be there by the time I made it up the
elevator. I rode up to the third floor and was struck by how much this place
resembled an upscale hotel more than a hospital. You could see the necessities
of a hospital/clinic were there, but cleverly worked into the background so as
not to disturb the calming, amazing visual appeal of the place. Room 325 was
in cluster E in the third floor. Each cluster of five rooms faced a large work
area where the nurses could monitor their charges. I used my key card on room
325 and entered. I was blown away. It was as nice as any hotel I had ever
stayed in. There was a single bed in the room, a bathroom with a shower and a
whirlpool bath, and the floor was the same stone tile as in the lobby and
hallway except covered in a beautiful bound edge rug. I heard a knock on the
door and invited in what turned out to be the head nurse for cluster 3E.
Another man, again in his 30s, Jonathon was the first person to mention why I
was there. At first I was embarrassed because I had never talked about it with
anyone but Michael, and then only after we were close friends and had
experimented sexually with one another. Jonathon soon put my fears at easy by
acknowledgeing that many of his patients have gone through the same
embarrassment, but that I was here because I wanted to be here and certain
things had to be done before I achieved my goal. He asked me if I still wanted
a penectomy. I said yes. He told me that I would never have another orgasm if
I went through with it. He told me that I would have to sit to pee for the
rest of my life. He asked again if I was sure I wanted the surgery and I said
yes. He explained the risks of the operation – including death, and explained
the challenges I would face afterwards, physically – most notably being a
change of being incontinent and an increased chance of urinary infections for
the rest of my life. He asked me if I wanted to go through with the operation
and I told him yes. He was relieved and said he was happy that I sure about
what I wanted and was happy with the decision. He then explained how the
clinic worked and what would happen. The rooms are set up as hotel rooms when
guests first arrived. My room would look like it had when I got there for that
night and the next night. The next day at 1 pm I was to check back in with him
for the results of the physical. If given the go-ahead, I was to report back
to the hotel by 8 o’clock the next evening, after which I was to have nothing
to eat or drink. I would be given a sedative to help me sleep and would be
awakened at 5 am the morning of the surgery and an IV line would be started.
When the time came I would be wheeled to the operating theater where the
doctor would again inform me of the risks and ask if I wanted to proceed with
the operation. If I answered anything other than a categorical yes the surgery
would not proceed. If the answer was affirmative then the anesthesiologist
would inject the anesthesia into my IV line and the operation would take
place.
We walked next door and Jonathon showed me how my room would look when I awoke
from the surgery. He said it took about thirty minutes to convert the room
from a hotel room to a hospital room. The single bed would be replaced with a
hospital bed, the bound-edge carpet would be rolled up and stored, and the
card key lock would be disabled so the nursing staff could come and go as they
needed to care for me. Once I had recovered sufficiently not to need the
hospital room, the staff would come in and reverse the process and I would
have the hotel style room until I was ready to check out.
* * * |
The Flying Eunuchs Part 6: A Plan Becomes Reality | NULLIFICATION | Jeff tries his best to cover all the bases. Once satisfied that he has done that, he does what he has to do. | ` **The Flying Eunuchs Part 6**
A Plan Becomes Reality
`
“You really owe it to your parents to tell them you’ve won a medal, you know,”
Jeff said when they were settled in the Officer’s Mess, each sipping on a
bottle of coke.
“You know I can’t,” Steve replied. “I’d rather they be told I was killed in
action.”
“They almost were,” Jeff said as he recalled the dreaded task he almost had to
perform. “But Steve, I know your dad. Sure, he’ll be disappointed. I know
you’re disappointed. Dammit, man, I’m disappointed! But I still love you more
than a brother; surely you can’t think your parents would love you any less
just because... because of what happened. It’s not like it was your fault.”
“If I’d only taken my pants off, and my briefs. It hurt and burned so fucking
bad I thought about it, but... well...”
“You had no way of knowing, Steve. How could you possibly know that oil would
fry you like that? Your folks will understand.”
“Just the same, when they find out it’s gonna be from me, and face to face. I
can read their faces, Jeff. I’ll know just by looking at them what they really
think. Now can we please talk about something else?”
“So what are your plans?” Jeff asked. “I mean, there’s talk about ground
troops going in pretty soon, and the captain thinks our job’ll be done here in
another month or two. What’re you gonna do then?”
“I’m goin’ back to school,” Steve answered. “I thought that was our plan all
along.”
“That’s not exactly what I meant,” Jeff countered. “I mean... uhh... sexually,
what are your plans?”
“You’re kidding, right? You saw, Jeff,” Steve said somewhat bitterly. “So what
fuckin’ sexual plans are you talking about? I have no sex! So how the hell
could I have sexual plans?”
“Please don’t get mad,” Jeff defended. “I just want you to know I’m not gonna
leave you, and I wanna be a part of your future, and I’m planning to do
whatever... whatever it takes to make it... to... Dammit, Steve, I dunno what
I’m trying to say.”
“Ok, here’s the deal,” Steve said, a little more calmly now. “I had a long
talk with the doctor, several in fact. He offered to start feeding me hormones
as soon as I was healed and back on duty, but he recommended against it. You
see if I take testosterone, I’ll have the same sex drive I’ve always had,
maybe even more, but no outlet for it. He said that could get horribly
frustrating for me.”
“No outlet”? Jeff questioned. “None at all?”
“There’s only one way I can get off now. The doc told me that some men can
have anal orgasms, in fact lots of men who still have all their parts prefer
it that way.”
“You mean... like...”
“Yeah, that’s what I mean. They’re gay men, and they call themselves
‘bottoms.’ They like getting fucked up the ass. I told him that’s not an
option for me”
“Why not, Steve? I mean, before you decide, maybe you should try it.”
“With who, Jeff? You know the rules in the Navy. I can’t just walk up to
someone and tell them I wanna get fucked, can I?”
“You wouldn’t have to ask,” Jeff offered. “If you want to check it out...”
Steve eyed his friend strangely. He didn’t say anything for several minutes
while his mind processed the information he’d just received. It’s true that
not very long ago he and Jeff had decided that they were gay and in love; but
even back then they’d done nothing except touch and fondle, kiss and hug. It
wasn’t that they were afraid; they simply did not want to do those things they
knew most gay boys do, at least not yet. And that hadn’t changed. Besides,
that was a long time ago. Jeff had a girl friend now, and Steve knew that they
were sexually active. Steve had gone through a period of jealousy, or perhaps
envy, but had put those feelings aside as selfish and foolish. He had come to
the point that he was happy for his friend, albeit still somewhat envious. He
knew that his love affair with Jeff was over, that they would go their own way
eventually. He wasn’t particularly pleased with the situation, but it was for
the best, and he was happy for his friend.
“Jeff,” Steve said presently, “I think you know as well as I do that we can’t
do that. I appreciate the offer, but we can’t.”
“I don’t understand why not. Some drastic things have happened to you, and
that calls for drastic measures.”
“In the first place, I find the idea absolutely repulsive. In the second place
you have a girl friend now, and unless I miss my guess things are starting to
get serious. In the third place, I want to make a career in the Navy, and I
can’t do that if I’m being fucked in the ass by someone, whether it’s you or
someone else. They don’t like gays in the Navy, remember?”
“But you can’t just do nothing,” Jeff admonished. “What kinda life is that?”
“I won’t be the first eunuch to go through life without sex,” Steve replied.
“The doc provided me with all sorts of references to other eunuchs. They used
to castrate slaves, you know. And in Italy they used to castrate young boys so
they could keep their high voices. The Romans did it, lots of other cultures
did, some of them still do. There’s lots of evidence that some Arab countries
still castrate the men that take care of their harems. The point is, all I
gotta do is work out regularly to keep my muscle tone, maybe even take small
doses of steroids. I’m already getting so I don’t think about sex that much.”
“You’re not a slave,” Jeff pointed out. “You’re not a Roman, you’re not a
small Italian boy, and you’re certainly not an Arab. You’ve gotta do
something, Steve! You can’t go through life alone!”
“You just got through saying, I’ve got you. I won’t be alone.”
“You got me as a friend. That’s not enough and you know it. Not you, as loving
as you are. You know you’ll go nuts without someone to take care of you, for
you to take care of. Maybe... I mean... I really think you should try anal
sex, ‘cause I suspect there’s lots of gay men who would find you attractive,
and you might even get so you like it.”
“You’re trying to fuck me,” Steve accused. “Tell me that’s what you want, and
I’ll let you try. Look me in the eye and tell me you really want to spend your
life fucking me in the butt, and I’ll try it, for you. But you need to know up
front unless I learn something more than I already know, that’s not what I
want”
Jeff tried. He really tried to say the words, to convince his buddy that he
did indeed want to do that, but he couldn’t. There had been a time when the
thought of mutual sex play with Steve was not at all unattractive to him; but
for Jeff to always be the aggressor, always be the “top,” always be the one to
gush his sperm, to cum, while his partner, his best friend, his soul mate, had
to be content with an anal orgasm, assuming he could achieve such a thing, was
not attractive to him at all. He knew if he said the words that Steve would
bare his butt and bend over for him; but that wouldn’t be an act of love; not
in their cases. “I’m trying to come up with some compromises here,” he said
weakly. “I just can’t stand the thoughts of you going through life as a...
a...”
“A eunuch?” Steve filled in for him. “I really don’t see that I have a lot of
choice here, Jeff. But it’s a hell of a lot better than being dead!”
“What if... what if I was a eunuch too?” Jeff asked suddenly. Steve looked at
his friend in disbelief.
“I’ve often thought of that, believe it or not,” Steve answered. “We’d be
equals then and I think it might work, but I can’t ask you to do that.
Besides, you’d never get a doctor to do it anyway.”
“I know that,” Jeff said. “But you never know what might happen.”
“Jeff, you’re not thinking of doing it yourself! Surely you’re not...”
“Are you crazy?” Jeff retorted. I could never do that to myself! I’m no expert
on human anatomy, but I know enough to realize that’s a good way to bleed to
death. But things happen, Steve. I mean, it happened to you, didn’t it?
“I just want you to know, if you go cutting anything off I’m gonna be really
pissed! I know we can never be lovers and I’ve come to grips with that; but
not having you around at all, even as a friend, is just not acceptable. I need
you, Jeff!”
“I need you too, Steve,” Jeff said as he fought tears. “But I need you happy.
The thing with Becky isn’t going anywhere because I’m still in love with you,
Steve! My only concern is that our sex drives are so lopsided it could become
a point of irritation between us. I’m just trying to find some way to level
the playing field.”
“Does Becky know her thing with you is dead-ended?” Steve asked with concern.
“I think she knew it before I did,” Jeff replied. “She told me she was hoping
she was wrong and she’s disappointed she wasn’t, but she understands.”
“But... the things she said tonight in the mess hall... it didn’t sound to me
like she was giving up on you.”
“She’s not. But she knows how I feel about you, and she’s pretty sure you feel
the same about me. But as long as we’re all over here she’ll keep trying.”
“You think that’s fair to her?”
“She knows the score, Steve. I haven’t misled her. When we went to Africa I
honestly believed we might have a future; now I know we don’t, and I’ve told
her that also. My future is with YOU, Steve! I’m not sure what that’s gonna
look like or how it’s gonna work, but I want to spend my life with YOU!”
“The doctor offered me one other option,” Steve said with a distant look in
his eyes. “He told me that he could probably get the Navy to pay for surgery
to... to make me a woman down there. Then with the proper hormone
treatments...”
“NOOOOOO!” Jeff yelled so loudly he got the attention of several other
officers sitting some distance away.
“Jeff, they’re doing it all the time these days. With hormone treatment I
would even grow my own boobs.”
“I know they do it all the time,” Jeff answered urgently. “But they do it to
men who should have been born women! They do it to men who are not comfortable
being a man. That’s not you, Steve! You’re as male as anyone I’ve ever known,
balls or not.
“I remember reading about a little boy, a baby, who had his penis horribly
mutilated when they tried to circumcise him. They said he’d never be a man in
the sexual sense so they castrated him and turned him into a girl. He grew up
as a girl, Steve! He’s never known anything else! But still he says now that
he was never comfortable being a girl. He’s grown up now and he said he’s
always known, even when he was a little girl, that something wasn’t right.
They couldn’t change him, and they can’t change you! You can’t possibly be
considering such a thing!”
“To be perfectly honest, I have thought about it,” Steve admitted. “If I was a
woman, you and I could be lovers and the Navy wouldn’t say a thing about it.
I’d be a woman and you’d be a man, and the last I heard the Navy has no rules
against men and women getting together, long as we don’t do it on the ship.
Shit man, we could even get married! We can never do that as two men, even if
one of us is a eunuch.”
“But you could never be a woman,” Jeff countered. I know such things happen
and that’s fine; but it’s not you! You’re a man, Steve. You’d never be happy
as a woman, and you know it as well as I do. All we’ve gotta do is figure out
how you can live happily as a man with no balls. You said yourself you’re not
the first and probably won’t be the last. But PLEEASE, don’t even think of
getting them to put a pussy on you!”
“Since you put it that way, It does sound kinda grotesque,” Steve said with a
grin.
“Promise you’ll work with me?” Jeff pleaded. “Just don’t shut me out, ok?”
“I’m not shutting anyone out,” Steve replied. “But I’m not gonna let you keep
nagging at me either. I’ll do what I have to do, same as we both always have.
You know I love you and I’ll do anything for you; but please, unless you have
another idea, don’t keep on me about it, ok?”
“Fair enough,” Jeff agreed. “I got a couple ideas, but I’m not ready to share
them yet. Just so’s I know we have a future and you keep your mind open.”
In February 1991 the Internet as we know it was in its infancy. It was
available to very few individuals, and it was certainly not available aboard
an aircraft carrier. And even if it were available, there wasn’t near the
amount of information available then as there is now. There were few medical
web sites, no Eunuch Archive or other such sites; indeed, very few people
outside the academic community thought of the Internet as a source of
information at all. So the Internet was simply not an option for Jeff. There
was a small library aboard ship, but it didn’t take him long to learn there
was very little information on the subject of sexuality, and certainly none on
the subject of castration. So Jeff had to make his decision based on the
general information he already had, plus what little he could glean from the
ship’s doctor. That was easy, he discovered, because the good doctor was as
concerned about Steve as was Jeff; and everyone aboard the ship knew of the
two boys’ close relationship. So Jeff hugged his friend briefly and said good-
night; there was one more thing he had to do before going to bed.
When Jeff slid into the pilot’s seat in his Tomcat the next morning, he did it
very gingerly. His entire groin was on fire with the most excruciating pain he
could ever imagine. Before going to bed last night, he had wrapped his
genitals tightly and carefully with several layers of absorbent gauze
bandaging material stolen from a first aid kit, ripped up and old T-shirt and
applied several layers, then soaked the entire package with the only petroleum
product he could find in ample supply: jet fuel. A simple visit to the hangar
under the deck of the huge carrier was all that he needed to fill a small
container to take back to his quarters. Then to keep down the odor he enclosed
the entire package in two layers of plastic bags, held firmly in place by two
strong rubber bands. Jeff had no way of knowing this, but the addition of the
rubber bands had constricted the blood flow and consequently reduced his
genitals’ chance of survival as much as the kerosene he’d applied liberally.
At first he didn’t feel anything except the sensation of tightness provided by
his wrapped parts. Then after an hour or so his doomed balls began to itch and
tingle, then burn; before two hours had passed the burning had been so
excruciating it was all Jeff could do to keep from screaming. Naturally he
hadn’t slept at all, but lay on his bunk in the tiny cubicle he loosely called
his “quarters,” in absolute agony as the fuel began to work its way into the
pores in his skin. It had taken every bit of will power he could muster to
keep from tearing the bandage off his package, but somehow he managed.
He thought of taking some pain killers, and had even hoarded a few he had
pilfered as discreetly as he could; but the entire squadron had one rule above
all others: they would not fly a mission if their minds were clouded by drugs,
any drugs. Jeff didn’t know if he could concentrate on his flying or not, but
this was billed as a rather safe mission, so he decided to take the chance.
But as the big jet engines revved up to full power and the steam catapult
thrust the plane forward roughly, he again found that he had all he could do
not to scream in agony. He had never realized before how many jolts and
jostles, vibrations and bumps barraged their bodies while flying these
magnificent aircraft. But as he reached cruising altitude and joined the
formation of the five Tomcats, the ride thankfully smoothed out. That’s not to
say the pain was gone; that was a constant thing now, and one Jeff was
determined to live with for at least a week. That’s how long he estimated it
would take to kill the flesh of his genitals.
“You ok, Jeff?” Marty asked from the second seat as they escorted three
bombers out of Iraqi territory. The mission had been a long one - five hours
so far, and they weren’t done yet.
“I’m fine,” Jeff grunted. “Why do you ask?”
“I dunno, you just sound different.”
“Different? Different how?”
“Just not your cheerful self. You haven’t made a single comment about how nice
a day it is for flying... actually when I think about it you haven’t said
anything at all really, except what you’ve had to say.”
“I don’t feel very talkative,” Jeff answered irritably. “I’ve got a bit of
a... a headache and I guess it’s affecting my mood. Is that a crime?”
“No, I guess not. But something’s bothering you or you wouldn’t be snapping at
me.”
“You want a reason?” Jeff snarled. “We gotta do an inflight refuel, then head
back and get rid of some o’ these missiles before we go home. That’s enough to
piss anybody off!”
“I thought you liked doing inflight refuel.”
“Not today I don’t. I thought we could just escort those bombers home then go
home ourselves. But no, we gotta go give the ground troops some support. With
our shitty luck today the Marines’ll probably fire at us!”
Jeff was in no mood to admit it, but this extra long mission was precisely
what he needed, in spite of the constant pain and burning in his crotch. The
inflight fueling had gone well, and in spite of his mood Jeff couldn’t help
feeling elated every time he connected up to that filling station in the sky
and watched his fuel gauges rise in mere minutes. But the best part of the
entire exercise was that the process of filling his tanks at twenty thousand
feet gave him an idea; an idea that would hopefully save him from the court
martial that would be inevitable if the brass learned the truth about what he
had done.
Perhaps Jeff’s senses were more keen in general today because of his pain. He
didn’t know for sure the reason, but he noticed for the first time that the
refueling tube passed very close to his seat. He could actually feel the
vibration as the fuel gushed into his tanks at high pressure. He finished the
fueling process with a grin, then peeled off toward the ground troops that
were awaiting his arrival, much more cheerful in spite of his pain.
For the next week the entire flight crew aboard the ship had little time to
think of anything but flying planes and reloading ones that came in. They were
on a constant rotation now: They all flew at least one mission in formation
every day, then flew ground support for two or three more tankfuls of fuel.
Jeff was in the air so much he began to feel weird when he was on the deck.
They had all molded into a pretty good team now, all having flown with all
others so they knew what to expect from each other.
Jeff had not planned this intense activity, but it had worked into his plan
perfectly. No one questioned not having seen him in the showers for over a
week; no one thought anything of never seeing the young pilot dressed in
anything but his flight suit, which was heavy and bulky enough to hide the
slight bulge in his crotch. The fact that he was walking a little strangely
hadn’t been noticed by anyone; all the fliers were tired and sore from so many
hours in the cramped quarters of the F-14's and F-16's.
After three days of the worst imaginable agony, things had begun to die down
to a dull ache. Still Jeff did not remove the wrappings to examine the damage.
He had planned to remove the rubber bands and plastic bags once a day to add a
little more jet fuel, but the area was just too sore, so he just let the
concoction do its work.
Timing was everything in this mission. Jeff knew, or at least hoped, that he
would eventually lose all feeling in his genitals. That would be his signal
that the nerves and tissue were dead; then one more day of complete numbness
to make sure, and he could safely go to sick bay. Gangrene would more than
likely be getting a start by that time, but he dared not let it go too far or
a simple amputation wouldn’t catch it all. On the other hand if he reported to
the doctor too early, his genitals might be saved. After the pain had
subsided, he had pulled the plastic bags away from his skin just enough to
pour a little more fuel into the area. He had no desire to look; he knew it
wouldn’t be a pretty sight.
Steve and Jeff continued to drive themselves to the brink of exhaustion,
reasoning that they were, in the family sense, expendable. Their captain
watched the two young Lieutenants closely for signs of fatigue, probably
thinking they wouldn't have enough sense to stop when they'd had too much; but
he was wrong on that score too. Their training had drilled into them what
signs to look for, and they watched themselves diligently. Perhaps their
youth, together with their absolute love of flying, worked in their favor to
keep them awake and alert; so between the two of them they flew as much as any
three of the others pilot. Jeff also recognized the added benefit of all this
intense activity. He simply had no time to dwell on the aching in his groin.
He would be quick to admit that, had he simply been wandering around the ship
with nothing to do, he probably could not have withstood the intense pain. But
there was precious little he could do about it at thirty thousand feet flying
at over twice the speed of sound. He also had a little chore to perform during
the peaceful times while they were flying to and from their battlefield.
Each time he refueled in the air, Jeff took the little bottle of fuel he’d
smuggled on board and spilled it over the filler tube, making sure he got a
little in the crotch of his flight suit. Marty noticed the smell and commented
on three different occasions, to which Jeff replied that there might have been
a little spillage during the refueling. Then after six days, the pain stopped
as suddenly as it had begun. Time to implement the next phase of the plan.
He went again to his supply of jet fuel and soaked his briefs with it, after
removing the dressing around his genitals. They were ugly and angry looking,
and were almost black. He hoped that the marks of the elastic bands would
disappear in 24 hours; but even if they didn’t, the irritation around the rest
of his mid-section would hopefully draw attention away from the fact that the
entire thing had been engineered. He wasn’t stupid enough to think they
wouldn’t know, but knowing and proving are two entirely different things.
“What in the world were you thinking?” Captain Adams demanded when the
appalled doctor had called him to sick bay. It was now a full ten days since
Jeff had first applied the death poultice to his genitals.
“We were flying so much, I guess I didn’t think that much about it, sir,” Jeff
replied. He had no feeling in his personal parts now, and a visual inspection
had confirmed what he had suspected, what he had hoped for. His genitals were
dead, and gangrene was beginning to set in. “I guess some fuel got on my seat
somehow and I sat it in,” he added. “I didn’t really feel anything till after
I had launched, and there wasn’t much I could do about it then. After I landed
I kinda forgot about it.”
Captain Adams watched aghast as the doctor withdrew some fluid samples, trying
desperately to save some of the tissue. “I know what you’re doing, you know,”
the captain said after the doctor had taken his samples to analyze, to confirm
what he already knew.
“I don’t know what you mean, sir,” Jeff said innocently.
“Don’t fuck with me,” Adams said sternly. “This has to do with Price, doesn’t
it?”
“Yeah, right, sir,” Jeff answered sarcastically. “What does Steve have to do
with this? You think I want my balls to hurt like hell, just because Steve
doesn’t have any? I’m not that stupid, sir.”
“Enough with the sir stuff, Jeff! I know you’re not stupid. You’re too smart
for your own fuckin’ good! You did this to yourself, didn’t you?”
“If you knew how much it hurt, you would never accuse me of such a thing,”
Jeff countered. “Besides, what possible reason could I have?”
“I haven’t figured that all out yet, sailor, but I will. And when I do, you’re
gonna be sorry you ever had male parts in the first place. God, man! What on
earth could have been in your head?”
“They’re gonna have to come off,” the doctor announced when he returned. “I’m
setting up for surgery right away. I’d appreciate it if you’d get Dr. Hammond
over here from Bahrain right away. He did Price so he’s done it once already,
and I’ve never done what I’ve got to do as soon as I can. Gangrene spreads
really fast, you know.”
“Consider it done,” Adams said as he prepared to leave. “Just don’t let
anything happen to this crazy idiot. I want him in perfect health ASAP, so
he’ll be perfectly conscious when I put him over my knee and give him a damned
good spanking!”
There was one flaw in Jeff’s plan. He had wanted Steve to be with him when he
had his surgery, but as he was heading for sick bay Steve had been called on
yet another mission. It was a long one, involving an overnight flight with two
midair refuelings. By the time Steve arrived back on the carrier, Jeff had
already had his surgery and was in recovery. “My God, Jeff, what happened?”
the concerned but exhausted pilot said when he entered the room where Jeff was
recovering.
“Same as you,” Jeff replied groggily. “I guess we know now, that freakin’ jet
fuel is as hard on the nuts as crude oil.”
“But how?” Steve demanded. “How did you get exposed to that much jet fuel? And
why didn’t you say anything?”
Jeff didn’t answer his friend’s questions, he merely grinned sleepily, but it
was enough; Steve recalled the conversation he’d had with Jeff ten days ago,
and he understood it all. “You did that for me, didn’t you Jeff?” he accused.
“For US, Steve,” Jeff replied happily. “I really had no choice, you know. I
felt I was losing you, and that was simply not an option. It would never have
worked, me having everything and you having nothing. It was either you or my
nuts, and that was a no-brainer.”
Steve tried valiantly to be angry as hell, but he failed. Having just been
through it he realized what a sacrifice Jeff had made for him; he could also
see the method in his friend’s madness. They were two of a kind again, just as
they’d been before they’d ever set foot on US Navy property.
“But why everything?” Steve questioned. “Couldn’t you have achieved much the
same thing by a simple castration? You’ve gotta know you’ll have to sit down
to pee now for the rest of your life, and frankly that’s a pain in the butt.”
“I thought of that,” Jeff whispered. “But to make it look like an accident, I
couldn’t very well treat only part of the package. And besides, you’re dealing
with it, so I can too.”
“You’re absolutely out of your mind,” Steve declared. “I woulda never done
that voluntarily in a thousand years! If I’d known that was your ‘other idea’
I’d a gone ahead and let you do... you know...”
“It would never work, Steve. Neither of us wanted that, and I don’t think
that’s the sort of thing you can make yourself like. You’re either gay or
you’re not, and I don’t think we are, at least in the usual sense of the
meaning.”
Jeff made a remarkable recovery, but even so he was grounded for over a week.
That time lying in sick bay with nothing to do but read and entertain
visitors, his fellow flyers, was almost more torture for him than having his
now gone genitals wrapped in fuel soaked gauze. During that time he made a
full confession to Adams, with the understanding that he was talking son to
surrogate father, not Lieutenant to Captain. “But I still don’t understand
why,” Adams said in his confusion. “How can your getting yourself nullified
possibly help Steve?”
“Because we’re lovers,” Jeff explained. “I realized that I’d been right all
the time when I saw Steve facing a life without sex, and more than likely
without anyone really close to him. It was just so unfair! Here I was romping
around having sex with Becky, and Steve had never had sex, and never would!
Then it dawned on me, like a brick hitting me on the head. I would rather live
my life with Steve, and no sex, than a life with Becky and sex every single
day. I really am in love with him, Sir!”
“Jeff, you know I have to act on that. You know the rules. I hate to do it...
God how I hate to do it! But the Navy says...”
“The Navy says no homosexuals,” Jeff said defiantly. “Define homosexual,
Captain!”
“Well... err...”
“Sex with one of your own gender!” Jeff supplied. “You’re a homosexual if
you’re a man and have sex with another man, or you’re a woman and have sex
with another woman. How the hell can we have sex? That rule is pretty clear to
me, and it doesn’t apply to us.”
“You’re splitting hairs,” Adams observed.
“You’re damned right I am,” Jeff agreed. “I split hairs every day in the
cockpit of that Tomcat and nobody minds. That’s why I’m an ace pilot at 20!
That’s why I’m a Lieutenant on a carrier in the Gulf instead of being a
student in North Carolina, because I can split hairs with a jet plane. And I’m
abiding by the Navy’s own rules! So if you want to have me court martialed,
then you go right ahead, and we’ll see who comes out best. I haven’t broken
any rules and I’m not going to as long as I’m on this ship. I thought that’d
be good enough for you.”
“Haven’t broken any rules? What about the rule that says you’re supposed to
take care of your body and not abuse it? During the time you’re active in the
Navy, the Navy owns your body, you know.”
“Who says I abused my body? I know there’s gonna be an investigation, and I
think that will show that I was a victim of circumstance.”
Adams sat and eyed his favorite junior officer for all of three minutes. Even
though Jeff was dressed in nothing but a hospital gown, his groin bandaged, he
was still defiant and full of fight. He knew what he wanted, as usual, and he
was willing to go to the wall for it.
As usual.
“You conniving little shit,” Adams declared, still not sure whether to be
angry or amused. “I’ve got a good mind to make good on that spanking I
promised you.”
“If you don’t mind, sir,” Jeff said smugly, knowing he had won, “would you
mind waiting a few days? I’m kinda sore already down there.”
There was an investigation, of course. They found traces of jet fuel in the
cockpit, seemingly centered around the pilot’s seat. There were also stains
and even a little fuel on the filler pipe that went from the inflight fueling
nozzle directly past the pilot’s seat. They could find no leaks, no evidence
of where the noxious fluid could have come from; but it was after all a very
complex machine, and one that required frequent maintenance. The results of
the investigation were inconclusive but the fuel, the report stated, was more
then likely spilled during one or more inflight fueling maneuvers. That was at
best a very poor explanation, but no one on the investigating team could bring
himself to believe that anyone, especially a young twenty year old, could
possibly have done such a thing to himself; no one, that is, but Captain
Adams, who knew better.
As a precaution Jeff’s plane was taken into the hangar and all joints and
gaskets were taken apart and cleaned thoroughly, then new gaskets and seals
were applied. The mechanics found absolutely no evidence that there’d been a
leak anywhere, but as any experienced mechanic will attest, the fact that they
didn’t find the leak didn’t prove there hadn’t been one.
Back in the air, the two eunuchs soon demonstrated that a lack of genitals or
hormones was certainly no impediment to getting the job done. On the contrary,
as the hormones drained from their systems they seemed to become more calm and
controlled, less volatile, always in control no matter what their situation.
Neither of them had ever heard the expression “eunuch calm,” nor, for that
matter, had anyone else on the ship. But all who worked with them or flew with
them soon learned that the affects of castration are not all bad. Both young
pilots had lost the one characteristic that could be considered undesirable:
in a crisis they could remain calm and cool, and deal with whatever
predicament they found themselves with a cold logic that was almost
frightening. They could control their tempers now a lot better than they ever
could before. They still had emotions and feelings, opinions and values; but
they were much more in control of those things than they had ever been before
in their lives.
By the end of February, the war was over. Jeff and Steve stayed on the carrier
for another month, helping out patrolling the “no fly zone,” trying to enforce
the conditions of the coalition’s cease fire. Finally, in late March, the two
young officers, along with four other pilot/second seat crews, flew their
Tomcat’s back to home base in Langley, Virginia. Jeff and Steve said good-bye
to their comrades and returned to school at NC State, having been removed from
active duty and placed back into the reserves.
On their way home, the two young eunuchs finally got a chance to consummate
their relationship. They lay together in a moderately priced hotel on the
outskirts of Richmond, Virginia, and they made love. It was certainly not the
hot sex scene one might expect from two healthy young men, but it was no less
rewarding for two eunuchs who loved each other intensely.
They didn’t have penises so there were no erections; neither of them had
hormones so there was no urgent desire to cum. Neither inserted any part of
his body into any cavity of the other, unless of course one counts their
tongues. Yes, they still had tongues and mouths, hands and feet. Even without
all the equipment one normally expects to be used when making love, the two
eunuchs did just fine. Despite what they didn’t have, what they did have was a
love so deep, so intense, so sacrificial, they simply couldn’t get enough of
each other. For over an hour they lay together, just kissing, relaxing,
relishing the fact that they could finally be together with no worries about
being discovered or reprimanded or accused of breaking rules. Then they began
exploring.
Jeff found to his absolute delight that Steve’s groin was exactly like his,
and at almost the same time Steve made the same discovery: the same oil that
had killed their genitals had obviously destroyed the hair follicles in their
groins. Both boys were completely, totally smooth and hairless. They also
discovered that the nerve endings in the area had either survived or
regenerated. Thanks to their exhausting schedule on an aircraft carrier that
had included working out every day, they both had bodies to die for; yet the
two groins, both devoid of hair, one a chocolate brown, the other white, were
as soft as velvet and as sensitive as raw nerves, in an erotic sense.
Some time during the night, Steve had an orgasm. Neither had expected it, nor
even cared really, but there it was nevertheless and an added bonus for him.
Jeff didn’t, and Steve felt badly about that until Jeff assured him that it
could be considered payback for all the times he had cum inside Becky while
Steve did without. “But I gotta tell ya,” Jeff said as he kissed his lover yet
again, “lying here with you, orgasm or not, is sweeter than making love to
Becky all night long. I really loved Becky in a way, and I hope someday to see
her again; but I’ve got what I want. I love you so much, sailor!”
To be continued...
* * * |
Subsets and Splits